lots of "E"

expressing emotions telling the audience;

previous times where absolute exhilaration, existed

ever changing feelings,
emplore me
"write, write write"

examining death
desiring life

ending poems, in delight,

negatory,

reading personal poems  requires fearlessness
exploring
fear

exploring
fear
fearlessly

However excluding the letter "E"?


exceedingly, challenging


All the previous words all had at least one letter "E".

the next poem has none.

no "E"

"Look Grandpa you did it" my grandchild said.

and I said "It is you on his back,
you had control,
you and your old stallion did it, I was just standing as a position on a map"

On an animal just short of my six foot-four, my grandchild sits.

An old stallion,
an animal with many hardships during his long survival
with hurtful, barbarians,
also known as humans,

and now in scrub lands
his coat is so scraggly, .hard to touch
his hoof so frail,

Arizona sand, hot and brutal, has not hurt his will to stand up tall and carry a small child.

A kind animal, skillful at instructing a young girl,
how to work with,
how to control,
control an animal so tall and so strong.
his will is calm around a such a small girl

with only spring and fall to go,
this stallions vitality will cusp,

a young girl has his load, his trust, and his pain.
his spirit is high, with a young girl, known as Kay, on his back


his strong back, mood and humanity,..
joins with Kay,
in harmony.
in thought
in spirit
in trust


so stubborn an animal, who gladly, allows, a young girl, on his back

and a young girl who awards him with many hours of joy.



fall is now upon Kay and Stallion,
days short
his back is not so strong now
Parting is to soon.


a look from Stallion to Kay that says
"too much ,....   pain,...  now"

Kay starts sobbing.


bound by trust
both downcast
sick with sorrow
both know, but don't say, how this will finish.


Mom calls animal doctor
Stallions own doctor
doctor says,...
doctor says,..
doctor says,... no light,...
his condition is fatal
now only thing to do is lay him down.



sobbing by all
sobbing too much,
sobbing for loss,

sobbing for too long until grandma says,

call to mind,
this past spring and fall,


this past spring and fall
full of joy,
and instructions,
and trust

and most of all

this past spring and fall
so full of humanity


and Kay's first crush?
now and always
Is this old stallion

mantra

Mantra:

hummmm
Be averaeeeeeeeege (average)
don't trust yourseeeeeeeeelf (yourself)
they,.. are out to get youuuuuuuu, (you)
so don't trust themmmmmm (them)
and hate your job.

This is the mantra I grew up with.

I was stuck in a cycle that was generations in the making
Poverty, hardships, abuse and failure that span from the old country to the new
and funneled into me and my childhood.

My sister was hit with it four years before my arrival,
her regret to me is the same regret I have to her,
that we could not have absorbed more of   "it"   for the other.

My sister was the bastard child that forced my parents to marriage.
and I,
I was the unwanted baby caused by my fathers grunt in when he should have pulled out.


unlike many today, I did have two parents,
but, most of my friends had two parents
dads worked, mom stayed home or worked part time.
it was an acomplishment of the times,... not of my parents.


living as the unwanted son,
famished for affection
I ate with greed every one of my parents regrets,
digesting thier failures as nourishment
and
drinking in their Cynicism as sustenance


and the mantra continues:
hummmm
Be averaeeeeeeeege
don't trust yourseeeeeeeeelf
they,.. are out to get youuuuuuuu,
so don't trust themmmmmm
and hate your job.


A childhood full of the extremes of
total absence-of-acknowledgement and
abuse-of-many-kinds
deeply embed the mantra.


I became the perfect loser,
a shell of a child,
numb,
socially inept,
that kid in school who smelled really, really bad,
hands filthy
clothes mismatched and stained.

I was that kid,... that did nothing when he was spit on.


I was bred to achieve that highest level of mediocrity reserved only for the
mentally ill,... numb from their medications.


My sister internalized the same mantra,
she too, had a stench about her
and she had already proven her failure
failed attempts of suicide,
failed attempts at running away,
failed at school
failed at keeping a job.


and the mantra continues, in us both.


hummmm
Be averaeeeeeeeege
don't trust yourseeeeeeeeelf
they,.. are out to get youuuuuuuu,
so don't trust themmmmmm
and hate your job.


The school nurse, knowing something was horribly wrong in my life,
took me aside, and tried to get me to open up to her,
but mantra line number 3 "they are out to get yoouooooo" protects me
so I say nothing of the truth.


Then an English teacher assigned a daily journal to the class.
we were to write daily events,
thoughts,....
and feelings.
she said we could ask any questions,.. share any issues with complete confidentiality,...
manta line number 4 "dont trust themmmmm" comes to my defense so,.. I wrote fiction.


Fiction of happy family

Fiction of family dinners with laughter in the air and everyone eyeing that last piece of
cake and pitching together to do the dishes,

Instead of the truth of the dishes being pitched in the air with the shattered pieces just
missing our eyes.


I wrote fiction of having friends come over to my house, and doing homework and playing
catch.

Instead of the truth that no one really wanted to be my friend, and those that did try  were afraid of what they would catch playing with me at my house.



I wrote fiction that my sister would be out of school for 4 days because she failed to see
a piece of broken glass on the ground that slit her wrist as she tripped over a plastic tub..

Instead of the truth that the failed suicide attempt number 4;  was her breaking a hand mirror
and grinding the broken glass into her wrist while she sat in the bathtub.



And of course I wrote fiction of "honor thy parent,"
Even though there was a 3:am every day.



The English teacher never commented on my words,
my hidden feelings,
my disguised torment
my fiction, that protected the truth.

One day she told me she would guarantee me a "C" for the class
If, I.
wrote a poem and submit it to be considered for the yearly school art and poetry
publication.


She said she liked the stories in my journal
and
that poetry can be fiction or truth.
and
that she wanted me,
to write the truth,..
but make it look like fiction.


Write the truth but make it look like fiction,
I thought to myself,... that, sounded like an easy "C".


I said I'd write her a poem!


and so with only the truth, I started
and it was hard,
the words
the fear
the secrets
the feelings
that was the hardest


But one assignment to get me a "C" for the class.
all I had to do is.
 hide the truth in a lie
I pushed on until I had one poem.


The poem was called Quazimoto,
the poem started with the line
"Quazimoto you poor lost soul with a grotesque hump on your back"
the poem talked of loneliness
and being an outcast
and not fitting in.
and the poem ended with him having the brazenness, and most of all the gall to live with
his deformity.


The poem was accepted into the publication.


The nurse said "congratulations",
and mantra line number 3 "they are out to get youooooo" lost some of its power


The English teacher gave me the "C", as she said whe would,
and mantra line number 4 " so dont' trust themmmm" released some of its hold.


and in a quite moment, where it was just the english teacher and I,
the english teacher said
that everyone that read the poem was very impressed,
with the flow,
the words,
and most of all the emotion.


a week later in the hallway as I was getting books out of my locker.
A girls two rungs higher on the social ladder said
to one of her friends loud enough for me to hear,

that Quazimoto was in the top three of her favorite poems.

and
Then
slowly
very slowly at first
the mantra,
the foundation of unhappiness and failure
that destroyer of childhoods'

that mantra started to go away

and writing

Writing poetry took its place.

under the surface

surface stretched tight is strong and must not tear

there is work to do
deals to make
kids to take care of
And pain to push down


three little ones will survive,  but will pay,
the cost is pain
the cost is fear


Parents not in love
still teach
teach by example

teach of loneliness
example of emptiness
teach of fear
example of confusion
teach of anger withheld


the foundation split into two,
the only house they have ever known,..
soon to be Gone!!!


but the surface is strong and the pain is momentarily burried

but the tension can be tasted by all,..

tongue curling bitter..
Bitter, like unsweetened bakers chocolate.

The same chocolate that only a few months ago was mixed with love and sugar,... and
became,...
hot brownies
and family movie night
and ice cream.
and giggles
and everyone falling asleep in the family room


That chocolate is now the bitter reminder of how there is,.. no room for family


but that surface stretched so tight,
is tough
marine tough
leather strong
keeps all the emotion in
inside
in tightly


but emotions are like a wild cat in a small cage
clawing and spinning out of control


hitting a surface that does not budge it is
the inside that takes the punishment
Ripping
tearing
mutilating organs
Lungs that used to inhale beauty
Heart that would skip a beat when they touched
Stomach that used to flip flop like it was full of butterflies.

now all are indistinguisable one from the other
shredded beyond recognition like Filet Mignon  through a meat grinder.


but the surface is tough
no evidence of the wounds
no evidence of the pain
no evidence of the shredded beef that used to be a heart.
no evidence of the now collapsed lungs that used to exhale confidence.


but like war has its propaganda to demoralize and crimes to humiliate
the enemy is attacking the surface
slowly weakening
slicing,
poking,


a facebook post of,...  "them together"
the posting "my soul mate has been found"
a former best friend,...  "liking the post"
and then the comments on "how cute they look together"



soon the surface will be shredded too much to hold
hold in the pain
hold in the sorrow
hold in the anger
and hold in the betrayal

And then the-one will curl up like a baby and the tears will flow
like a cold shower that never runs out of water

Tears will come from deep inside trying to fill the void that has been avoided,
for these past many months

and when the tears have momentarily dried up,
the organs can begin to put themselves back together.
the flesh will begin to heal

and then a random scent of chocolate will waft in the air,
and the tears will start again.


to a person named Matt.