Letter to Grandma – Kiran A. Thakare

Leaving you There in the jaw of cruel niyati thousands of miles away I came here to strengthen my beliefs and to return to fight your war my war at home.   Now three years have passed you wrote me “I am anxious to see you come home soon” I lied to you, saying “Aattya I can’t come home now I have some last moments’ work to do.” I hide from you Yes Aattya! I am trying to make some money to buy you a gift.   The thought of my return rejoices me how proud you will be to…

Read more

The Last Time I Tell This Story

This is the last time I will tell this story. I need my mother’s love. I knew this all of my life and It is still true today. I need my mother’s love. She was beautiful and I would have told her so if I wasn’t so afraid she’d hit me. I need my mother’s love. I didn’t like Ice Capades but I would’ve joined her to watch a show about Barbara Ann Scott, her favourite skater. I need my mother’s love. When she scooped me up in her arms after Dad kicked over the coffee table and scalded me…

Read more

Eighteen Years

When we first got together, I found myself making rules for us, upon which we both agreed. When one or both of us crossed those lines, I was furious. But one day when I broke a very minor promise, With no disrespect toward you, I realized that those thick triplines Had faded into dazzling filaments under the sun. At once, with great joy, I knew how much I had grown. I trusted someone: You.

Read more

Paranoia

What do you want? What is it you want? As your amethyst eyes Slither over my face Paw my neckline Denting my nonchalance My demeanour so cool — You’d swear I drank milk. What do you want? What is it you want? Do you assume me Your answer, so easily? Wet nurse, lost sister Your other half gone missing So vital but unnoticed Till you’re about forty-three. What do you want? I must know what you want! As you approach me with gall– Crossing unspeakable lines. At last the secret spills … From a sooo-kissable mouth What is it you…

Read more

Warning

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me, And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells And run my stick along the public railings And make up for the sobriety of my youth. I shall go out in my slippers in the rain And pick the flowers in other people’s gardens And learn to…

Read more

Self-Esteem by Virginia Satir

I am me In all the world, there is no one else like me. There are persons who have some parts like me, but no one adds up exactly like me. Therefore, everything that comes out of me is authentically mine because I alone chose it I own everything about me my body, including everything it does; my mind, including all its thoughts and ideas; my eyes, including the images of all they behold; my feelings, whatever they may be anger, joy, frustration, love, disappointment, excitement; my mouth, and all the words that come out of it, polite, sweet or…

Read more

My Hope Is In The Mountain, by Nancy Wood

My help is in the mountain Where I take myself to heal The earthly wounds That people give to me. I find a rock with sun on it And a stream where the water runs gentle And the trees which one by one give me company. So must I stay for a long time Until I have grown from the rock And the stream is running through me And I cannot tell myself from one tall tree. Then I know that nothing touches me Nor makes me run away. My help is in the mountain That I take away with…

Read more

My Poem – “Hard” – Originally Entitled “Fourteen” – True Story

HARD If only I had known How tough it would be to be jump-started daily by a vacuum cleaner hose Cracked over my legs And Mom’s shrill tones Yelling, accusing. Frantic, I fall out of bed still shaking and sweating ice from being locked up Alone, last night in the attic. Hope crystallizes and evaporates I love yous and hugs do not exist Only the verbal machete, punctuated by blows from my own baseball bat. While somewhere, laughter echoes from A joke only I could not grasp. At school, peer pressure dealt me another nerve-grating punch Piercing and curious eyes…

Read more

Denial

  The instant the enormity of your suffering, of your spirit deflating, Crashed  against Incalculable skies — I knew I hadn’t been listening.   Terry Gibson 1993. ************ The poems from this year were written when I attended UBC’s Creative Writing Department. While I was doing what I loved, my oldest brother’s sudden death–within one and a half years of my Dad–sent me spiralling into a deep depression. Given that, I’d love to hear from people on something. Do you see images in this? Anything? I’m trying to tap into my poetic self but am struggling. It helps to know that…

Read more

Your Friend Always

I will be your friend always, no gaps, no forgettings. Not until the mountains are worn away and the rivers are nothing but sand and rocks, not until it thunders and lightning comes in winter or until it snows in the summer, or until heaven and earth are the same, not until then will I leave you. First century Chinese Friendship Oath.

Read more