John (anamacha) wrote,

regarding my mother, and my memoirs

okay -- although the initial response was positive, I got precisely zero response to the first installment of my memoirs. No response, positive or otherwise. Whereas that's perfeclty okay, I'm not yet on a roll and am unsure if I should continue.

Also, I recently started thinking about ways in which I could bring in some income to my family -- which desperately needs it; we have another kid under our roof for an indeterminate time (it's been two weeks already), and Gina's check is no longer enough by itself.

But the idea of me getting a joe-job, flipping burgers or whatever -- that leaves me cold. I'd love to make some income on my own. So posting my things to a blog, that sounds appealing to me, at least a little. So I think I'm going to save my memoirs for that, and I'll post here when I have them up there, once I've created a there for them to be on.

In the meantme, please enjoy this poem that I wrote recently.

she is gone
she is gone,
she is gone
just as I was beginning
to find her,
connecting the dots,
finding myself.

She is gone
the person shaped hole
in my heart
wails with the loss,
a keening lament of grief and loneliness.

Twelve years
was not enough --
but nor would twenty four more
on and on,
progressions spiraling to nothingness.

When I close my eyes
I can feel my mother's presence
in a way I have not before
perhaps this is what she wanted
to never hold me again,
to never hear my voice,
in exchange
for always being with me
unbound to this world,
completely in spirit.

5pm 9.21.11
Tags: memoirs, poems, poetry
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