“My papa was never a rolling stone / my papa’s a firm rock that stayed in our home.”
“I was raised on stories of return and that hope is still alive in my father’s eyes.”
“I had fears of picking up my son, I thought my hands were too rough and I would scratch him but my fears had to go.”
“He was happy to be no quite happy, happy enough for his daughters so that they could have a life with more opportunities than his had full bellies.”
Make life as easy as pulling out of bed
Pulling quiet from the thunder
Pulling drama from the joker
Like a rabbit from a hat
Mutating from a mouse to a rat
Life is as easy as smiling
when you’re a dollar from poverty.
I’m remembering when God let neighbors smack your hand for stealing
when God had you squealin’ cause Grandmama pinched you under the armpit
Sit still in church / Cross your legs / is what she told you the first four times
Grandmama knew all that and more!
I’m remembering God being there
Broke ankle / sprained back / cracked finger bone / car wreck
She would whisper, “thank you God, you’re still here”
when I found homemade hooch in the cellar
and decided to take a sip or two
God was there / so Grandmama knew!
she washed it down with a capful of castor oil
I never did that again.
For daughters who hate mothers for
not being Grandma
For mothers who hate daughters
Cause she thinks she know it all
If only they’d not played with baby dolls
maybe both wouldn’t be disappointed
This is for the daughters from mothers
Who are now mothers of daughters
That meet at the shore of unforgiving
whose hearts are prematurely laid to rest
Tomb stone reading.. fear
This is for mothers who hate daughters for being just like them
This is for daughters who hate mothers for not teaching them any better
For mothers with old tricks that no longer separate the sun from recycled patio air
For daughters with paper doll necks held upright with duct taped thoughts of suicide
both parked on one way streets without life’s permission to do so
…faces marked hourly with tears
This is for way too tired mothers
Who have true dreams of stress ridden daughters with sunflower crowns
This is for mothers & daughters
who stuff their wounds with spider webs
and catch men with two legs, four lives and a thousand lies
This is a prayer for time to cancel judgment from the memory bank of what was important
For daughters and mothers facing sad reflections
Digging deep regrets
At the shore of unforgiving.
nikki skies copyright 2014
I am the great great grand daughter of
Reversed breath and dared visions…
Gulps of darkness
and wind drifts of honey tamed coagulated blood
with sounds heavy / held in hallow fields.
I let life stain my ashen legs
with streams of flowers and foul
Ball cramp symbols under the folds of my toes
So the scorpion trails are sensible to children’s eyes.
Great grandmother’s conversations with a pine tree snake
He feared her gray eyes as I did
So we both kept our distance / mesmerized with her patience to catch a fly.
She was magic
And one day I sold her show for a rollercoaster ride
And a tongue kiss
I bought it back with my grandmother’s apron
…the one smeared with fish scales and rabbit guts
now I pay $6.89 a pound for whiting fillets
it used to be free after an afternoon at the lake
I am still her granddaughter
And her mother’s great grand daughter
And her mother a great great sunrise before…
dreamt of me.
20 Life Lessons My Mother Taught Me