Tag: writing

The Time, Mother

Terah Van Dusen4 Comments

The time you changed your name from Darlene to Brenda

The time you gave me a blonde baby doll and told me I had a brother on the way

The time you tied a friendship bracelet on my wrist and said now I’ll always be with you

The time we stopped to pick a rose on the shoulder of the highway…and it came with a bee

The time you made long, dangling hippie earrings–for a living

The time my room flooded and you cried because you felt bad

The time you bought ten hamburgers from McDonald’s and for the first time we all got full

The time we looked at a house we couldn’t afford and we all picked out bedrooms anyway

The time you took me to the Bayshore Mall and bought me an eggshell-colored Easter dress

The time you put barrettes in my hair (I don’t remember it but I saw the pictures)

The time you sang You Are My Sunshine to Cloud and I looked out the window and held back tears

The time you volunteered at my school library and I was embarrassed because of your short, slutty shorts

The time you lit a cigarette, looked at me and said don’t ever do this

The time I stole 2 cigarettes from you and you never found out

The time I realized our hands and fingernails look exactly alike

8:05 p.m. the time you gave birth to me, far too young

The time you failed to meet the expectations of your adopted mother

The time I knew exactly how it felt

The time your dad died and if you hadn’t already lost all hope, you really did then

The time you tried to wriggle your way into societies mold but it just didn’t work

The time you introduced yourself as Moonbeam and it all made sense to me

The time you socked my dad through the pick-up truck window

The time we left you in the dust

All the times you left me in the dust

The time you cried and said you’re sorry

The other time you cried and said you’re sorry

The many other times you cried and said you’re sorry

The time you googled me everyday for five years but never called or emailed

The time you said I’m so proud of you and in my mind I said for fucking what?

The time you said Enough already! and I said Okay

Little Girl Me

Terah Van Dusen2 Comments

Little girl me
wore yellow rubber
gloves Dad bought at
Safeway along with Sun
yellow dishsoap
I would knee-stand
on the vinyl and metal
chair in front of the sink
in front of the small trailer
window looking out on the
ducks and geese and rabbits
in their cages
A kerosene lamp was lit
as the sun went down and the
night would come alive with sounds
Almost every night Dad had me do
the dishes while he would read
to me from the Holy Bible
They were nights I enjoyed
and miss.

Spilled Yet Contained

Terah Van Dusen10 Comments

Today is an
in-between moon
my mood reflected
in the sky
A hot night
turning all the
ladies faces and
necks red melting
the glue that holds
together the teeth
of the man who
loves to speak
bubblegum pink
is the paste that
keeps his teeth
on the top and
his teeth on the
bottom
as for me
I think I’ll
stop speaking
for a while.
I’m applying
for a cashiers job
at the market and
between that and nights
I’ll be all talked out, the
energy settling less between
the sheets–less in the space
I’ve created for something
else, for someone else, less.
I went to a benefit concert
where I bumped elbows and
shoulders and some kid
put on a jacket and his zipper
hit me in the face
Today
Tonight
is a pretty blouse
a flower
on a wrecked girl
and I don’t know if I mean
me or someone else but either
way I’m coming around to her

I Love to Give Not to Greed

Terah Van Dusen1 Comment

Is this romantic business?
Is this business romantic?
Put your worries in the wind
Make
This
Make
Sense
I am again
offering my plate
of sweets and dreams
and no I do not do this for kicks
No I do not
prefer torture
I do not love to
fool myself
Impulsive yes
but I am not
I am not
self-destructive
nor malicious
hanging heads on the wall
like prizes
I am doing this for you
not for me
I love to give not to greed

I Want To Be

Terah Van Dusen16 Comments

I want to be forgiven
for what I’m about to do
to you
catch and release
you’ll be guy number five
I’ll be your girl number two
your first
your last
your mystery
I want to be whipped
into shape
taught a lesson
fondled and driven
to madness
wined and dined
I said wined and dined
I said wined and dined
I said tell me
to put on a dress
I said ask me
to take down my hair
I said
I want to be whipped
into shape
I want to be tamed
lead me
guide me
I want a man
I’ve never seen a man
I’ve rarely seen a man
I thought I saw a man once
but he walked into the day
and by night he was all gone away
I saw a man once
who had It
I saw a man who
could tame me
but he didn’t want a thing
to do with this woman
with this body
with this piece of work
right here
I want to be forgiven
I want to be whipped
I want to be tamed
I want to be a girl
who is chased
but women like me
are so bold
so brass
women like me are
more of a man
than you’ll ever be
chew on that
and when
you’re a man
come back to me
cause I want to be
whipped
hard
I want to be tamed
and pregnant
I want to be
forgiven

Anatomy of a Good Woman

Terah Van Dusen4 Comments

Eyes that open wide

Nose that does not turn up

Mouth that speaks the truth

Neck that holds the head high

Arms that do good deeds

Stomach with high self-esteem

Legs that are faithful

Knees that bow in humility

Feet that travel freely

Mind that dares to dream