Poetry

Cappucino drive-thru

Cappuccino drive-thru,
No thoughts about you.
My life is picking up momentum
And yeah, I wanted to share it with them,
but emotionally, they have nothing to give.

Thoughts of sending an email.
But now, I’d rather just leave you guessin’
what I am thinking.
‘Course it’ll happen again.

Music pumping, speakers thumpin,
Screaming out the lyrics because I can relate.
You love ‘em because you’re supposed to,
when what you really feel is hate.
Either I walk away
or accept this fucked fate.

Can’t be different than who I am
This desire to please them is wearing thin

Years accepting all the blame
till I had enough
and stopped playing their warped game.
Three years went by,
my child growing and
time flying.
I figured,
why not try,
just one more time.

Interactions are fine until they’re not.
Backhanded compliments I simply shrug off.
Nothing new,
nothing’s changed,
they’re still the same.

A power struggle under the surface.
They pushed and pulled
revealing the worse in themselves.
And I’m not sticking around to see how it plays out.

The pain I feel is my internal shout.
A piercing pain through my heart.
Whether they’re in my life or not.
Forever grieving the parents I never got.

Mara McWilliams 2006 ©

Used on Estrangements.com with the permission of Mara McWilliams. This poem and artwork may not be used without the explicit permission of the author.

Mara's website: Recovery Through Art.

Estrangement

Family estrangement
so much better
than strangulation

Tired of the lies
like flies
That swarm around you
and your murky presence.

Altered reality isn’t
just your perception of it.
Trying to manipulate me,
Controlling every situation.
Everything you claim to be
Is completely contrary
To how you behave.
Yet I am expected to act loyally?
As what,
A testament to your insanity?
Aren’t the scars an my arm
reminder enough?

I’m my parent.
Now and always.
Jealous of kids
Whose parents are dead.
Stuck in the ground and DONE.
No more nothing
Sign, sealed, dead and delivered.
Haullejalluah free at last
Outta my head
Outta this reality
Would I then be
Free of how you damaged me?

Mara McWilliams
Copyright 2006©

Used on Estrangements.com with the permission of Mara McWilliams. This poem and artwork may not be used without the explicit permission of the author.

Mara's website: Recovery Through Art.

The Divorce of the Mother and Daughter

Ginny Caputo

I loved coffee,
She loved tea.
We were family
And I loved her.

I love parrots.
She likes dogs.
We were family and
I loved her.

She voted one way.
I voted another.
We were family and
I thought she loved me.

She liked alternative rock.
I like the blues.
We were family
and I thought she loved me.

I like indie films.
She likes scary films.
We were family and
I thought we loved each other.

I could cook.
She couldn't.
We were family and
I thought we loved each other.

She visited
I got a migraine
She told me I was a bore but
I still thought she loved me.

So then ...

I got anxious
And she got angry.
We were family
But I thought she still loved me.

I sent an email.
I got no reply.
I sent another.
She told me I was nagging.

She said go to hell.
She called me a waste of ink.
I said let's take a break.
I needed time to think.
We were family
and I loved her.

I suggested a therapist.
She told me to see one
By myself.
I wrote her letters.
Silence was her reply.
I knew I was losing her.
We were a broken family.
The years went by.
We never spoke.
I missed her
And still I loved her.

I like coffee.
She likes tea.
I liked Ferlinghetti.
She likes to ski.

I like Thomas Moore.
She likes Danielle Steele.
We're mother and daughter.
We're black and white.
We're Bush and Clinton.
All we can do is fight.
She is salt.
I am pepper.
I'm day and she's night.
She's up
When I'm down.
There is no getting off
This merry-gp-round
Of accusation and hurt.
It's all hit the fan
We can't repair
The damage has been done.
There's no winning or right
No one has won.
We've called the whole thing off
But I'll always love her.

Estrangement

Mary Alice Manley

Oft have I watched a glorious sunset form,
Till all the west was brightened into gold;
Till all the east gave back the colors bold
In softened, mellowed hues, yet rich and warm.

And I have turned my eyes from such a sight,
Rather than watch the black usurp the gold;
And waited till the stars in myriad fold,
Has come to deck the peaceful brow of night;

I see, O friend whom I thought mine for years,
Your love which was the glory of my day,
Begins to wane; oh! let me turn away,
Nor bid me gaze until it disappears.

Let me remember that I had your love,
And what that love was, at its brightest hour,
Till looking up, I recognize the power
Of stars of comfort, shining from above.

Estrangement

Clark Ashton Smith
1893-1961

I have forgot, who once had part
In autumn and in autumn's grief;
Still the red year illumes the leaf,
But not the silence of my heart.

When poplars take the passing fire
And fling it on the windy skies,
I listen, hushed with lone surmise,
In hope to hear a vanished lyre.

Bravely, on some autumnal morrow,
The topmost leaf shall flame and die;
But in my heart an alien sigh
Wakes only with an alien sorrow.

In vain the falling leaves caress
A lute among the roses lost;
And the frail touch of petals tossed
Will leave it mute and tremorless.

Estrangement

William Watson
1858-1935

SO, without overt breach, we fall apart,
Tacitly sunder—neither you nor I
Conscious of one intelligible Why,
And both, from severance, winning equal smart.
So, with resigned and acquiescent heart,
Whene'er your name on some chance lip may lie,
I seem to see an alien shade pass by,
A spirit wherein I have no lot or part.

Thus may a captive, in some fortress grim,
From casual speech betwixt his warders, learn
That June on her triumphal progress goes
Through arched and bannered woodlands; while for him
She is a legend emptied of concern,
And idle is the rumour of the rose.

She's a long way from home

by Paula Nico

She never called
She never came
I waited.
As sunset's orange magnificence
cast a loving shadow
On her, I hold out
Hoping for some sort of amends,
A reconciliation.
While gathering my strength.
I purposely ignore her.
Impatiently I am carried
Off into a new and better way
Far away
From her presence, a cold bitter
Warning hardens her
I see time flickering away.
I endured many winters without her
All alone then and now
I pity her.
And when I traveled far away from her
She did not know how really close we were.
I often peered at her from my tiny window
Praying that she would sense my longing.
I knocked ever so softly just testing
To see if she would open up to me.
If she could have somehow found her way back
I would have gladly received her.
But she is blind and her days are in denial.
I would have flown to be by her side
And I would have rescued her, if only
If only I knew ...
She never called
She never came
I waited.

Printed here with permission from Paula Nico © 2000
This poem appears in The Love Book, Healing Poems for Broken Hearts, written and illustrated by Paula Nico.

Talk to Me

by Ginny Caputo

The drain is running
Slow in the bathroom sink.
Talk to me.

The weather has been rainy, cold and grey.
Talk to me.

The stuff I see on TV
Bores me half to death.
Talk to me.

Talk to me.

Damn it, talk to me!

What's new?
Are you blue?
Do you miss me?
Are you mad?
Are you glad?
Where's your head?
I'm your mom.
Where have you gone?
Talk to me.

Anything will do.
Bore me to death.
Say something.
Tell me what your cat did
In his litter box today
If necessary.
Just talk to me.

"Hope is the thing with feathers-
That perches in the soul-
And sings the tune without the words-
And never stops-at all."

-Emily Dickinson

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