32 Reflection of You

32 Reflection of You

A Chapter by TL Boehm
"

this is a repost of poem from the vault

"

Thirty Two Years

I'm built like a burlap sack full of mongrel pups.

Too bad the arroyo is dry

I live in a stucco mudpile  where the kitchen linoleum peels up like iguana skin.

I wanted wicker and stained glass.

Too fragile for the lions that roar on my savannah.

I can drink and curse most men unconcious.

I'm nothing like that drunken S.O.B. you married

Whose every nasty habit crawls out of my skin unbidden.

So unlike your high school sweetie.

How amazing that genes can lie.

 

I sing seventies soul in the shower.

Cry poetry in twilight

This tenor voiced soprano warms with age.

When I'm forty I'll sing like Tina Turner.

WishI was black so I'd have legs like that.

I wanted a spotlight.

 

Drowning in a testosterone saturated puddle

Of synchronized farting, moco noses

And hot wheels sprouting from the carpet

I nurture till it hurts

Yes, you can raise tadpoles in the baby pool

Say "please and thank you".

Blow that nose in your tissue not your sleeve.

I love you, I'm so proud you can count to infinity.

Your eyes are bluer

You'll be taller

You're smarter than I was at your age.

 

Mama, you never let me be better than you

Ten fingers and toes, all you said you wanted - wasn't enough to make you whole.

I am a bogle in your basement

What color is the bad sheep when she's the only one?

A faded white reminder of your own failures

Captured in those curling Kodak moments

Your lithe arms draped over me

Your eyes focused on the Guy du Jour

Never felt my own small heart beating

Above the thunder of your own.

My mouth full of lava soap and spaghettios

Never able to question your omnipotence.

 

You still shriek in my dreams, Mama.

A jade eyed banshee screaming for a soul I cannot give you.

I never close my eyes.

 

I kiss my boys damp curls while they sleep

One tousled froth of lemon merangue

One butterscotch sweet against my lips.

Perfect love.

I wonder if you ever felt that ache in your heart  for me?

As you yanked that wire brush through my bristley mane

Or smacked my young a*s with it?

Give me one more chance to nuzzle against you

And look up into eyes as bright as new leaves.

Let me see myself as a perfect reflection of you.

In my heart, we are whole...

 

TL Boehm

3/18/98

 




© 2016 TL Boehm



Author's Note

TL Boehm
I was reminded of this while reading Frieda's poem "Dread of Night" http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/friedapickle/1244088/
I won't go into details beyond the poem - except to say that I wonder if my terror of dying in my sleep is due to perhaps sleep apnea all my life - or if the sleep apnea stems from things that happened when I was a child that I simply dismissed as "it is what it is" The picture is of my mom when she was about 32 - I wrote the poem when I was 32

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Featured Review

A serious tribute to the one person that is supposed to give us the most. But who made up that rule anyway? That influence is so big and so powerful when we are young, and the resulting remnants hang on for many years. Even at 32 you show bitterness along with recognition of your unique self as rising above, as recognizing her faults and insensitivity, and accepting them, even imagining her reasons and motivations. No doubt you will always be able to blame moments of loss of control, negative results from impulsive actions, and maybe even a little addictive tendency on her, but you've grown way beyond this with your love and attention and sensitivity to your own children. I celebrate that with you and congratulate your reflection and writing. I was feeling a little lonely tonight, thought of reading you, and have been greatly rewarded. Peace

Posted 3 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

TL Boehm

3 Years Ago

thank you so much papaed. I do love her. I just don't like her most of the time.



Reviews

poignant tragedy ...how very important those younger years ..to have the safety of a home with loving parents ..the damage done can be devastating ..sometimes the best one can do as they carry such weight is to pack it into a manageable tool box; put everyone into a hotel where they must stay .. and carry on ... my very closest friend has suffered so ... from childhood through abusive marriage and five children ... she has been forever scarred ..no healing will change it; but she manages .. with a beauty and compassion i have rarely seen ... your poem is raw as it gets in my opinion ... real and relevant in any age or time .. i feel the sadness pressing my chest so well done says i! well done indeed
E.
ps thank you for the link to Frieda :))) it still works ..nice to revisit her poem

Posted 12 Months Ago


That felt intense. The imagery peeling back in the opening hooked me. Fantastic imagery, history, and emotion. It gave me chills.

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

TL Boehm

1 Year Ago

thank you. I appreciate the read.
From the begining till the end your poem took me in your home, all i view like movie that is truly magic of your writting:)

Posted 3 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

TL Boehm

3 Years Ago

Thank you so much for that kind comment.
Terrifically emotive with fantastic metaphorical imagery within this powerful write, perhaps you learned from your mother's hardship and your own upbringing, how much to love, value and appreciate your own beautiful family!

A riveting read !

Posted 3 Years Ago


Incredibly poignant expressive and simultaneously explosive, having got this off your chest I hope you are able to sleep at least with one eye open. I found this to be a paradoxically exhilarating literary experience.... All Good Things, Neville

Posted 3 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

TL Boehm

3 Years Ago

you are much too kind. thank you.
Neville Pettitt

3 Years Ago

My pleasure entirely. N
A serious tribute to the one person that is supposed to give us the most. But who made up that rule anyway? That influence is so big and so powerful when we are young, and the resulting remnants hang on for many years. Even at 32 you show bitterness along with recognition of your unique self as rising above, as recognizing her faults and insensitivity, and accepting them, even imagining her reasons and motivations. No doubt you will always be able to blame moments of loss of control, negative results from impulsive actions, and maybe even a little addictive tendency on her, but you've grown way beyond this with your love and attention and sensitivity to your own children. I celebrate that with you and congratulate your reflection and writing. I was feeling a little lonely tonight, thought of reading you, and have been greatly rewarded. Peace

Posted 3 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

TL Boehm

3 Years Ago

thank you so much papaed. I do love her. I just don't like her most of the time.
You have projected your childhood phobia wonderfully with appropriate vocabulary and unique style which mark the greatness of gifted poet

Posted 3 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

TL Boehm

3 Years Ago

Thank you so much. I appreciate your kind review.
powerful and sad story written really well enjoyed it

Posted 3 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

TL Boehm

3 Years Ago

Thank you Stanley
The poem told a powerful and sad story.
"I am a bogle in your basement
What color is the bad sheep when she's the only one? "
I like the journey you took me with in your words. Hard to have redemption with a parent who cannot see the good in their child. I like the way you ended the poem. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

Posted 3 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

TL Boehm

3 Years Ago

thank you so much for reading it

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Author

TL Boehm
TL Boehm

a stones throw or two from Big Blue, MI



About
Reinventing the wheel or perhaps the millstone I"m female, 50, "Rubenesque" (google it if you don't know) married and have spawned two male one married and one eyeing the girls from afar. I'm sudde.. more..

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