Bogen Today and Tomorrow 13 (My World and Welcome To It)

Bit of the old paranoia taking up residence in my frontal lobe, did not want to blog for fear of ¬†_____________(fill in the blank). I’m not responsible, I didn’t mean it. Really.

 

Just need to finish this entry (number 13) so I can begin with a  more auspicious number.

 

Endit.

 

 

 

 

 

Bogen Today and Tomorrow 12 (My World and Welcome to It)

 

 

After an overwhelming 6 weeks, I’m back online. The world has been too much with me. Confusing to be sure. Kinda depressing, kinda exhilarating — leaving me and Sir Chumley trying to figure out where I belong on this spinning orb. Things I thought I felt, thought I knew, somehow have been coming up to bite me in the leg. An example: my mother.

One of the things that kept me alive has been that I have been able to stick her in a compartment in my brain named Cruella DeVille/Malificent the witch. She was EVIL. And as long as I could think of her as that only, I could be OK. Lately, however, I remember things, the good things, we used to do together, the things that made me feel like she did love me the best, maybe the only way, she knew how to. Not like the way that haunts my nightmares. The nightmares that are peopled with the merciless, the failed.

The Mother’s Room

and this too is me
the dull sheen of purple jersey
daughter as crone
and behind that door
the mother’s room
unknown women tend her
blonde mother of the plains
silent girls offer reflections to kiss
a cord to my abdomen glistens and throbs

and she spins that cord
and she spins and she twists
and when she is old
she spins
and when she is dead
she spins

2 thoughts on “Bogen Today and Tomorrow 13 (My World and Welcome To It)

  1. Laurel Ann–
    Just read your mother poem on your blog…fabulous! And here’s my mother poem…could they have been twin sisters?

    Visitation

    I’m in dark, soft depths of sleep

    Suddenly my mother’s scream
    a scream from out of my past
    pierces the calm
    penetrates the night
    has my name on it

    I sit up shaking
    in steaming cold sweat
    can’t catch my breath
    I know that finely tuned cry

    Listen, Mom, I say
    I can’t help you
    there in the Other World–

    You’re on your own

    But let me tell you
    if it’ll make a difference

    you don’t have to worry–
    You’ve done your work

    You’re with me
    all the time
    # # #

    Big hugs,
    Leah Schweitzer

  2. Dear Leah…

    Perhaps they were separated at birth? Thank you very much for the poem and note. Hope this finds you well and happy. xxx

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