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Array ( [sid] => 99461 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Back Porch Blues [time] => 2005-06-28 03:42:45 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Mom once told me she couldn’t go to my basketball games
because she didn’t want to cut herself on those metal chairs
and bleed sick blood where eight-year-olds played.

She cut herself, once, on the edge of the dishwasher,
and cried for two hours while she sponged down the floor,
yelling at me to keep away from her and the metal things.

My sister could manage a smile when she walked in on
my mother in the bathroom, trying on her first wig and
asked “how’s your bald mother look now?�

Sometimes I remember she’s going to die either in pain
or drooling on her nightgown from the morphine or oxycontin,
and only then do I feel guilty for ignoring her after my games.

Mom says she only wants one thing in life—a big porch,
somewhere she can hum like old people should, and remember
when her life was as clean as my Sunday morning handkerchief.
[comments] => 3 [counter] => 194 [topic] => 43 [informant] => nosoup4crr [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
Back Porch Blues

Contributed by nosoup4crr on Tuesday, 28th June 2005 @ 03:42:45 AM in AEST
Topic: oops



Mom once told me she couldn’t go to my basketball games
because she didn’t want to cut herself on those metal chairs
and bleed sick blood where eight-year-olds played.

She cut herself, once, on the edge of the dishwasher,
and cried for two hours while she sponged down the floor,
yelling at me to keep away from her and the metal things.

My sister could manage a smile when she walked in on
my mother in the bathroom, trying on her first wig and
asked “how’s your bald mother look now?�

Sometimes I remember she’s going to die either in pain
or drooling on her nightgown from the morphine or oxycontin,
and only then do I feel guilty for ignoring her after my games.

Mom says she only wants one thing in life—a big porch,
somewhere she can hum like old people should, and remember
when her life was as clean as my Sunday morning handkerchief.




Copyright © nosoup4crr ... [ 2005-06-28 03:42:45]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Back Porch Blues (User Rating: 1 )
by KantKureLyfe on Tuesday, 28th June 2005 @ 06:34:37 AM AEST
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This is a really beautiful poem. It just goes to show that we never really know what we have until its gone, and why its so hard for us to apprieciate the small things that matter. I loved it.


Re: Back Porch Blues (User Rating: 1 )
by deadheadpoet on Tuesday, 28th June 2005 @ 10:55:09 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
This was very touching and I like the fact it's so raw feeling. Made me sad to read it. great write. Peace.


Re: Back Porch Blues (User Rating: 1 )
by brew on Tuesday, 28th June 2005 @ 12:59:35 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Hm......very very differ, yet from the heart of finally seeing. We cant alswyas know .till things aretaken from one self. Thanks for sharing the post.

Brew~




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