I don’t know..
I don’t know… I hardly know what to doWith all those yearsWe spent together -You looking after meTaking care. Me in pain. Faced with theChoice of: would IDie? Would ourbaby survive? IfI conceivedour child. A fate socruel to my mind,Now – seems Imust live yearspassing withpeople bearingchild. It’s like the wholeworld can haveA child and…
Infertility is a life-long journey
Poems dedicated to the life-long journey of infertility. Om Shanti Stella Raven
Two Three
It’s been a longtime Since – Saw your sudden faceIn glimpse -Shocked head turnYour visageGrey – tinged withthose foreverBlue eyes. The lightSurroundingcrystal whiteclear -Like you’d polishedEvery surface withCrystal polished clothWhite – Scrubbed, scuffMarks -Clean. All these yearsWe’veBeenSeparate pieces. Dedicated your timeTo looking atThe mark.Assessed itsNeed.Thought -How to rub its surface clean. Crossed your mind:that you…
Apple
Once upon a late SundayAs afternoon turns to evening,Spring shows green beforeSummer. I saw youSat In an oldArmchair Turning an appleOver and overIn your hand – Left – not right.Twist its sheen skinRed flecked with greenComplexion that fillsThe palm of yourHand – Neglected to turn theStalkUntil it snapsShe loves meLoves me not. The mind wandersWonders…
I found you.
In my morning meditation – he and I are on a sofa – leather -In a room – wallpaper flowered dark and country patterned -Like you see in all those homes. I am wearing a skirt, high heels – black .I stand up – he says I just love you, you’re special, I don’t want…
I Could Spend
I could spend daysSitting in our old garageshed, studiowatching you shornEdges off wood, weld whiteSparks from melting metalTwist clamp into exact position. Us -Enclosed behind an uncleaned window- glass -murky from winter raindried by April sun – UsInside warmed brickencased in the memoriesOf our times spent togetherYears lived outTears wept for misunderstandings.Or arguments still notUnderstoodRegretsOver…
Wolf
Wolf My mother was a wild wolfBrought me upIn the woods of winter -Showed me how to forage for foodSmall voles, white duck eggs warm with yellow yolk. Pawed at hard red berries, soft fruits fallen from trees.She’d sniff the air above the windfall with her snout -Gently lift between her sharpened teethand devour: two…
Things I Have Given You
Gifts I may have given youthingsIn our time of knowing. When our paths crossedSuddenly – unexpectedly.Serendipitous. If I have. You will know.My gifts are unusualUnlike others -Worthless -Against the normal world. My gifts, they came from aA troubled manWhom I sat byAll my life. Watched him catchGlimpses of strangeSaints – Angels and glimpses of GodWhile…
I am …
I am woman Once girl At times child Always – perhaps. I am a mother -withoutThat has traversed plainsenabled me to scream – From a top of the mountain. I am artist. Hear me. I am woman without definition of children and family. I am here. I am artist. I am woman – still. https://youtu.be/UkKo-jXl2CQ…
Self Portrait
2021 I’ve never drawn myself in words. Of all the images I have hadThese are the ones I recall. The artist on Shaftesbury Avenue who drew meat 19 on soft paper with charcoal.I looked at it for ages wondering ifThat was me? Another -outside Notre Dame, hair long, clippedand held back at the fringe -…
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Stella McHugh – Writer 