i hold broken children

By ruthless48

kansas keeps a wind up clock
in a jar
a child's kaleidoscope and a little
crashed toy car
named after a place
she's never been
waiting for someone she's
never seen
she runs through dark woods
from the page of a book
she rolls to her room from curious looks
kansas' wheat fields sway waist high
kansas' gold hair flys as she goes by
hands on wheels
back slightly swayed
don't come too close
kansas winds take her away



pasty pie was seldom far from fur
or a spider
twistied hair and
coal stains on her stockings suited her
she liked rain
a faceless doll with one leg
dressed in rags
kept her secrets
papers in an orphanage drawer
kept her name
she seemed a paltry waif to most
but patsy pie's gift held her head high
tornado heart loneliness
came up through her eyes
their gaze tripped you up as you walked
to turn and meet
nearly dropping you to your knees
your warm hand on her bony shoulder
were only spiders crawling as she pulled away
but she reached you
moved things deep inside 
with her eyes
pasty pie was never far
from a meal or a new friend
her soul survived  the heart
she would never let mend


menopause made mama crazy
daddy said not an onion will be found in his home
frost came early so the spare room is
piled high with beans to shuck
my hands, brown from tobacco,
will be pearls on soap making day
ginny says boys will kiss yu
if yu have a dab a vanilla behind yur ear
im practicing all my writin
since they sent me here past fall
not much else to tell cept
can yu send mama's county queen pictur
from the bureau top drawer?


respitory flotsam
thin, dragging an oxygen canister
green cracked paint
while your mother chokes a cough
your hair dull from food pantry sup
your mom's beauty on fun
and cigarettes all used up
when will your hair
in the sun   shine
kept in the dark at home
away from allergens
do 'you' have any friends?
i see you with a cracking smile
try to break free
but then you bow your head
and balance the O2 tank
on your scabbed knee


moppet haired muppets move quick
to keep up with mom
one,  two  they follow
as one,  two  the 'MD' badge
swings from her jacket hem
hitting her boy hips
back down the hall
elevator  door  closes
formalin holds mom's homework
as muppets scratch out theirs
opposite the microscope
slyly kicking each other
without a sound
under the table



Hamza al-Khateeb
bloated, electrocuted, gunshot
still in plastic wrap, without your penis
only 13
on youtube
paramount for the poor
your spirit flys now with your homing pigeons they say
do you know, now, how you inspired a country
starting from Daraa to all of Syria
a cry for for an end:
to torture, instead now freedom
to rape, instead now respect
to death, instead now free mind
more than half a million 'like' you
we are all Hamza al-Khateeb




© ruth follmann




 

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2012 ruthless48
Published on Friday, April 17, 2015.     Filed under: "Reflective" and "Poetry"

Author's Note:

happy birthday, daughter and step son
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Comments on "i hold broken children"

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  • dwells On Sunday, April 15, 2012, dwells (4288)By person wrote:

    Don't quite know what to say except this was all too real and marvelous in the stark pictures you painted with sparse words of wonder, thanks for sharing.

  • ruthless48 On Tuesday, April 17, 2012, ruthless48 (173)By person wrote:

    thank you sincerely, every day encounters provide us with our characters, we are just sometimes reporters. always carry paper and pen!

  • A former member wrote: The images in this are so sharp. I really enjoyed the sweeping scenery and little details too. You made it intimate and surreal. Great piece here.

  • ruthless48 On Sunday, April 15, 2012, ruthless48 (173)By person wrote:

    thank you, still feel it was too unripe to realease, but had to get it out for my kids' birthdays! thank you again


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