The Avenue
White clapboard house, nightlight burning:
elder couple stockpiling
canned goods
for impending wars, real or imagined,
disappearing behind drawn curtains, hiding from hope
Brick bungalow, green tiled roof
ghostly visitations, nightly apparitions
appearing in twisted dreams of tormented child
when Ouija board is played
Single story house, yard of dirt
filled muddied toddlers, urine soaked diapers
young mother earning wages
providing day care by television
Brick house, occupied by “Born Again” fanatics
preaching “Good News” to all passers by...
children know different, seeing Devilish signs
in dark marks upon the young one’s flesh
Three story green house, full of secrets
where big dogs roam and shit throughout
yard too small, family too big, ignoring crap
what is not seen, or discussed, is simply not there
Yellow house with stone porch
Grandpa enjoys walking around in underwear
calling out to children at play to come play games
while Grandma’s away (shhhh, don't tell)
Red house, large back yard with climbing tree
Little old ladies, within, caring for the neighborhood
providing pink candies and respite
for those hiding from demons
Beige house, a porch swing to share
while the wise witch whispers gently
healing spells of
love and kindness
for lost little girl visiting daily
Copyright 2011-all rights reserved
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
12 comments:
I apologize for the profanity included in this piece. I felt it warranted for truth is truth and if I wrote poop, droppings, or other such euphemism, I'd just be sugar coating the the harsh reality of this writing.
Guess you decided to change it back to "poop." My thought, as I read it, was that it detracted from the poem to edit yourself.
My next thought was to understand why you made the edit.
It's hard to be a writer when you don't use "bad" words. Sometimes, I yield to the writer in me. Sometimes, I don't.
;)
ha. change it back...smiles.
i know that tension...i just went through being questioned by my church of being too controversial...smiles.
but i like your description of the avenue...smiles.
Sue...Thank you for the critique. I actually changed the subsequent line as I like the harsher sound of "crap" better than "poop" in this piece.
Im glad I dont live in that neighborhood It sounds terrible
Woe, what an intense poem! This definitely doesn't sound like an avenue I want to venture down. Good writing!
Startling, yet brought back some memories. How many of us took parents and other family members for granted as they stole a little piece of our lives?
Well done!
Made me think of my old neighborhood. Very cool, Sis.
haha..no need to apologize. I generally try to use "gentler" language...I think crude language tends to demeans us, but then you have to balance that with what's real and not sugar-coated when you're writing... I enjoyed this piece.
I like it a lot. Foul language and all. I like nebbing on what people are up to in their houses.
Polly, it is what it is. There is no need to sugar-coat it any more.
Polly. Your writing is so profound. I always feel like I'm walking inside your soul when you share things like this.
And I always want to take you on my lap and rock you and sing you a comforting little song.
Not in a weird, stalking sick kind of way, but in a Mom way.
Whatever words you feel most comfortable using, this is truly powerful.
Hugs and A+
Post a Comment