Open Poetry #6 |
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Was I? |
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Rosemary J. Gwaltney Senior Member
since 1999-08-26
Posts 997northern mountains, Idaho ![]() |
* * Nearly half a century ago I was born with the right parts. I was the girl my mother wanted. ~ ~ ~ Yet never good enough, Never smart enough, Never tidy enough, Never a hard enough worker, Never dutiful enough taking care of her. ~ ~ ~ Too noisy, Too emotional, Too quick to give up; Too many needs of my own, Too exploratory, too rambunctious. ~ ~ ~ Yes I was born with the right parts. I was the girl my mother wanted. [This message has been edited by Rosemary J. Gwaltney (edited 04-10-2000).] |
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© Copyright 2000 Rosemary J. Gwaltney - All Rights Reserved | |||
Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California |
I can relate to this one only too well. I never was anything "good" to my mother but I'm sure I could tab a long list of what I wasn't that I should have been. My empathies... Michael |
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Meadowmuse Member Elite
since 1999-12-27
Posts 3263 |
Rosemary, what a heartfelt piece of writing...pure unfeigned emotion emanating from just a few matter ~ of ~ fact words. You've so aptly expressed frustration and feelings of futility here, and I can relate to both. Thank you. ~ Claire |
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lucky Senior Member
since 2000-01-17
Posts 1601Idaho |
“Persian Pussy,” Well, this seems to be as close to that Persian fur ball I’ve been for a while. They say nothing is more determined than a Persian on one of her hot curiosity pursuits. You leap up in the semi-opened window of my heart where you force out a squeaky, barely audible mew. Then you sit there walleyed in the rain, watching eagerly, making sure you’ve got my attention tearing me from my private little sea of thought, not to mention the shrouded ones I should'nt ought thinking. But then, as I must take notice, you've put on one of them innocent poses and naturally I must get up and let your teary rain soaked tush in the sliding transparent glass window of my life. Of course, you don’t just bounce right in but must make a couple exotic glamour turns, maybe get your motor purring as you sashay around the perimeter of my room. Wherever there’s an open window, there’s your little squeaky meow. It strikes me funny. I wonder what you’re really doing because you know my door is always open. I like the fresh air. Howbeit you still want me to get up and come over and give you a personal invite. Ha! WHAT’S UP BABY BUB-BA? I hope you know, you’re not fooling me with any of that sexy innocent sashay aura of grace about you which ironically emerges as a sweet snowy blond feline longing for any and all of my hugs & kisses. By the way, did you know it works? |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Rosemary--very powerful and heartfelt poem...funny how that little girl still insists on traveling around with us after we are grown. Hugs! Lucky, quit playing with your err cat? |
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wayoutwalt Member Elite
since 1999-06-22
Posts 4870TEXAS (it's all big) |
i like this its deep o course ...lot said in the last stanza All Day I Dream About Stanzas!! |
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Elizabeth Santos Member Rara Avis
since 1999-11-08
Posts 9269Pennsylvania |
This poem did say alot. And Martie's right. People continue to carry that baggage for the rest of their lives. It is sad to be demeaning to a child. Very well presented, Rosemary Liz |
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