Poem, snippets and essays of my life
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Category: Healing
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My Mother gets Religeon or…
When my mother was dying she began to wonder about religion. My Mom had a great way of putting things. Once, when we went to Walmart for picture hangers, she told me I was too competent and that was why there was no man in my life. I found this hysterical but also probably accurate. […]
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Love and Work
Love and Work Nothing makes me madder than people disrespecting my work. Well, that’s not completely true. Injustice and cruelty and abuse make me really mad. In my personal life, however, nothing makes me madder than someone saying to me “You know if you do this it’s going to require a lot of focus […]
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Child
Integration There’s a moment when a child stops playing in her imagination as there is “Another” watching. The play become something other than sole imaginary play and is now “observed” play. The child comes out of her unconscious and is now conscious of her presence in the world .No one really remembers this moment except […]
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Words
I think if there was one rule in life it should be that no one can say anything about anyone else unless they’re standing there in front of them. This fails to apply if you are saying very complementary things about someone else but it’s nicer to say it to their face. It seems to […]
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She had to stay home
She realized she had to stay home from here on out. When she went out to social events the words hurt her ears and penetrated her brain. She was no longer one of them and had become “other”. Generally this meant instant social ostracism but they made excuses for her. She was fragile . If […]
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My Birth
My mother’s father, Samuel Joseph Cawley, died three days before I was born and was buried in a paupers grave in Van Nys, California, alone and still drunk so the embalmer had it easy. My mother went into labor etherized and alone, and, hearing “ it’s a girl”, sighed into her peignoir and turned her […]
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“The Red Kerchief” Claud Monet
I wanted him to notice me. It wasn’t that difficult to see what I wanted. In winter he stayed inside all the time. Painting. He was. All the time. Winter, always a danger to everyone, young and old. No freedom in winter. Too much freedom for him. I wandered by that day wearing red, A […]
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House
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William Carlos Williams
This Is Just To Say BY WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMSI have eatenthe plumsthat were inthe icebox and whichyou were probablysavingfor breakfast Forgive methey were deliciousso sweetand so cold
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