mama
Posted: January 20th, 2013, 10:56 am
she was an actress- from a small amish town in pennsylvania- it was the depression- when she grew up-heard her daddy crying because his hands hurt from working so hard-grandpop always worked-- her two sisters and her parents and janet lived in a trailor-she was real pretty and did two vogue covers before she was 18 years old. a cheerleader-at sixteen with a bullhorn with a giant p on it for POTTSTOWN -grandpa worked at goodrich tire co- mama just wanted out of that trailor park- and she was doing just that- getting female actresses equal pay and smoking cigs on billboards all over los angeles-someone took a picture of her in front of a natural gas billboard while she was pregnant with my sister- she was pregnant a third time but lost it due to the rh negative- posative blood thing and a very old man she said= somewhere in there with her paintings she had framed that and put it away= or torched it =sculpted it into something else- she could do that- she was my mother, the artist and part magic- but magic never lasts-
when it wears off- it is a struggle to focus- to find something that will fill up=replace what she walked away from- i see her in resturants with my sister in her bitch mode'' Tell me about the salmon' my sister and i roll our eyes and look away from each other- as if mom didnt know we thought -since then we have brazenly let her know- every little things she ever did wrong- my sister and i always cut up on her- why? it was wrong- we were not perfect either- we just didnt know it yet. Way back--------when, i want love- i have to think of these things-because that is where it seems to live- in the red 450sl mercedes with my hair blowing in the wind and mom with her hard hat on-and her gallery s name on it- she told me one of her landlords took her dog for the rent- not everything was coming up roses for my mother-but i was her daughter -see- and no matter how hard i tried to 'not like' my mom-and with as much effort i tried to like her love her-
i always felt like i didnt know how- that she was beyond my reach- locked in her thoughts or in someplace i could not go- i could talk to her in a spirit voice- she does not think 'anything is out there' and she is afraid now-all that pretty has kind of spread out like watercolor paintings in paris-fading in value- the summons to her after all these years- i had myself convinced that i was 'the last thing on her mind' and as it turns out - all the things i think about most things are erronous - but of one thing i am sure- real love like that is vaporous-foggy and mysterious-- mama in the mists of what you feel- there is more than what we see-do not be afraid, let my blanket cover you---for now- your first born daughter-
when it wears off- it is a struggle to focus- to find something that will fill up=replace what she walked away from- i see her in resturants with my sister in her bitch mode'' Tell me about the salmon' my sister and i roll our eyes and look away from each other- as if mom didnt know we thought -since then we have brazenly let her know- every little things she ever did wrong- my sister and i always cut up on her- why? it was wrong- we were not perfect either- we just didnt know it yet. Way back--------when, i want love- i have to think of these things-because that is where it seems to live- in the red 450sl mercedes with my hair blowing in the wind and mom with her hard hat on-and her gallery s name on it- she told me one of her landlords took her dog for the rent- not everything was coming up roses for my mother-but i was her daughter -see- and no matter how hard i tried to 'not like' my mom-and with as much effort i tried to like her love her-
i always felt like i didnt know how- that she was beyond my reach- locked in her thoughts or in someplace i could not go- i could talk to her in a spirit voice- she does not think 'anything is out there' and she is afraid now-all that pretty has kind of spread out like watercolor paintings in paris-fading in value- the summons to her after all these years- i had myself convinced that i was 'the last thing on her mind' and as it turns out - all the things i think about most things are erronous - but of one thing i am sure- real love like that is vaporous-foggy and mysterious-- mama in the mists of what you feel- there is more than what we see-do not be afraid, let my blanket cover you---for now- your first born daughter-
