Re: Mums Toast -- Unicorn

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Date Posted: 11:46:45 01/25/04 Sun
Author: Highlander
Author Host/IP: pD9037FC3.dip.t-dialin.net / 217.3.127.195
Subject: Re: Mums Toast
In reply to: Raphaela 's message, "Re: Mums Toast" on 11:00:18 01/24/04 Sat

Thanks Raphaela,

this is indeed a true person I am writing about and her experiences, as you know I am not that good at fiction, I prefer fact and the truth so although it was a very hard and emotional thing to write I am told by the life owner that it touched her so much she has this piece on her wall.
(some people are easily pleased huh???), ah well if our work can reach and touch people then it makes it all the worthwhile to keep on writing.

Thank you greatly for your very positive reply.
Highlander x

>Good to see you here again Highlander!
>
>This is one of my favourite's of yours and with each
>subsequent reading I discover something new.
>
>It is a moving narrative poem, which I think becomes
>all the more poignant due to the contrasts of the more
>comforting memories of a child. The use of senses
>also involves the reader.
>
>Look forward to reading more from you soon.
>
>
>>Slurping soggy coco pops in the lighted corner
>>giggling at cartoons,
>>I am oblivious to the bills that pop through the front
>>door,
>>cushioned by the shreaded carpet weighing down the
>>kitchen table
>>as Mum escapes out the back one.
>>
>>I have no need for a haircut,
>>my survival kit a pencil crayon,
>>a soap dish and anything from my favourite colour
>>keeps me company in the trenches filled with jagged
>>nettle.
>>
>>I was born not knitted like my teddy in brown
>>so I am bound to make mistakes if I move
>>and not like him lay still.
>>
>>The slide at the playground is not nearly glazed or
>>fast enough but at least it gives me height
>>to see my house from a distance,
>>it looks so close but still far away...
>>how can it be I can still smell Mums toast
>>and familiar soup from another world?...
>>and feel the blows as a giant fist lands hard on her
>>cheek.
>>
>>I am still nerved by crashing glass
>>and jump even when the waiter at our local restaurant
>>loses grip of pastella.
>>
>>I am moved by shades of light green and insect yellow
>>in summer,
>>it reminds me of the rich children in the country and
>>the smell of posh jam....
>>stirring my nostrils and even at my age concern
>>I still sniff the air like a curious pup
>>when bramble bushes bare fruit profits.
>>
>>Mum has passed a long time ago,
>>a single mother no more than 60 kg,
>>barely touched 23,
>>beautiful, hazel eyes like mine
>>and a smile to die for
>>
>>which literally speaking she did!
>>
>>I never understood life,
>>never will,
>>and that is why I stand here at Mums grave
>>watering the willows
>>and isn�t it funny...
>>
>>how I can still smell Mums toast?

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