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"hotplate" poems
I don’t have faith.   I just know that I belong to my Savior Jesus.  I met her once when I was 11, at her humble single wide in a cramped trailer park and she made candied walnuts on a hotplate.  I didn’t find out until years later that she paid for my scholarship.  She had passed on by then; I wish I could have thanked her. He arrived at Juvenile Hall at 7:00 pm looking like Mrs. Santa Claus, to take me into her home for a year.  I made some sarcastic teenage comment about the stupid country music on her car radio, and she tolerated it with a smile; saying ‘its not stupid, its simple.’ She showed me what a caring family looks like and didn’t kick me out for being a ******** gave me chores and a curfew to show me I belonged. When I had no family or boyfriend in my life, I lived in a maternity home until my baby would be adopted.  Jesus was the stranger in the hushed hospital room holding my hand, after the medics couldn’t find the heartbeat in the ambulance, which was confirmed on the maternity floor, and I was taken to another floor so my crying wouldn’t upset the other mothers.  The room was small and dark and alone, and the clock on the wall took an eternity to move two minutes, for the entire night that I was in labor, the longest night in my life.   I didn’t remember someone holding my hand; I was so drugged for pain.  She showed me her arms two days later, so bruised because she didn’t leave me. Jesus was the woman from Planned Parenthood on the other end of the phone, listening to me when I called the Women’s Clinic asking how I could find a doctor.  ‘ I just moved here, and I work at a minimum wage job, and I lost my baby a month ago, but how do I get a post-partum exam when I don’t have a doctor, or any money, or insurance?’  I was very matter of fact about it, I mean this was my circumstance and what to do?  She arranged a birth control exam because the state would pay for that, by a doctor who would give me the post-partum.  She also referred me to a support group.  I had been alone but she found me people who understood and could sympathize and help me accept grief.   I look back on that now; there were no sign-carrying Christians or Churches arranging the adoption who helped me, she was the only one who cared.
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Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 2:36 AM UTC
Jesus held my hand
I don’t have faith.   I just know that I belong to my Savior Jesus.  I met her once when I was 11, at her humble single wide in a cramped trailer park and she made candied walnuts on a hotplate.  I didn’t find out until years later that she paid for my scholarship.  She had passed on by then; I wish I could have thanked her. He arrived at Juvenile Hall at 7:00 pm looking like Mrs. Santa Claus, to take me into her home for a year.  I made some sarcastic teenage comment about the stupid country music on her car radio, and she tolerated it with a smile; saying ‘its not stupid, its simple.’ She showed me what a caring family looks like and didn’t kick me out for being a ******** gave me chores and a curfew to show me I belonged. When I had no family or boyfriend in my life, I lived in a maternity home until my baby would be adopted.  Jesus was the stranger in the hushed hospital room holding my hand, after the medics couldn’t find the heartbeat in the ambulance, which was confirmed on the maternity floor, and I was taken to another floor so my crying wouldn’t upset the other mothers.  The room was small and dark and alone, and the clock on the wall took an eternity to move two minutes, for the entire night that I was in labor, the longest night in my life.   I didn’t remember someone holding my hand; I was so drugged for pain.  She showed me her arms two days later, so bruised because she didn’t leave me. Jesus was the woman from Planned Parenthood on the other end of the phone, listening to me when I called the Women’s Clinic asking how I could find a doctor.  ‘ I just moved here, and I work at a minimum wage job, and I lost my baby a month ago, but how do I get a post-partum exam when I don’t have a doctor, or any money, or insurance?’  I was very matter of fact about it, I mean this was my circumstance and what to do?  She arranged a birth control exam because the state would pay for that, by a doctor who would give me the post-partum.  She also referred me to a support group.  I had been alone but she found me people who understood and could sympathize and help me accept grief.   I look back on that now; there were no sign-carrying Christians or Churches arranging the adoption who helped me, she was the only one who cared.
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5
When love sat neatly on the stove Bubbling with content. I never dreamt a fuse would blow And leave such discontent. When all my cakes were browning well And soufflé neatly risen. I never dreamt the heat would cool And leave me in derision. For many years my cooker worked I was proud of all I made. I never dreamt the power would fail And leave me so dismayed. But when the hotplate starts to cool And pots refuse to simmer I never dreamt your love would die And leave without a glimmer. My thermostat no longer clicks My tiny red lights gone. I never dreamt I’d miss them so And depend so much upon. The food of love that fed my heart Is suddenly all-cold. I never dreamt I’d lose it Until I grew quite old. Now I’ll starve and grow quite weak I’m living on stale crumbs. I never dreamt we’d come to this No longer are we chums. I cannot find the right fuse wire My circuit breakers stuck I never dreamt my torch would go I’ve run right out of luck. Oh God! Send someone to fix it Before I’m without light I never dreamt a love like that Could leave us over night.
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Dec 26, 2009
Dec 26, 2009 at 9:13 AM UTC
HEARTBREAKER
Life is about hands. It is about you, Staring at them The first time you burned your fingertips Because you were so curious and it was forbidden to touch the hotplate. It is about you Staring at them When they are all blue and numb From the icy touch of snow After you had a snowball fight With your best friend from kindergarten. It is about you Staring at them When you are supposed to write an essay But they won't write anything down Because you are not at school with your thoughts. It is about you Staring at them The first time you fell for someone And your burn for the idea of touching them But you cannot Because you don't want to be foolish. It is about you Staring at them When they hold alcohol After you drank your first beer And it tasted disgusting But you are one of the cool ones now. It is about you Staring at them In the dark at 3am Holding your own hand Because there isn't somebody else who would do this And you feel so lonely. ...
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Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 9:10 AM UTC
Hands (Part 1)
I put a face on to make a place on the night shift for me, but the darkness sees through me into the shadows that await me when the morning breaks into my door. **** it I'm sore, been beaten and shanghaied, cried out to my God and he did not want to know. Below me Beelzebub in a hot tub I'm dripping while God's ripping the contract apart. All heart or he could be if we all believed in the final solution, E=Mc and it's finally Squared.
0
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 4:46 PM UTC
*** on a hotplate