Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Faith's Remembrance

My mother never packed me a lunch with something special in it. We were poor, then we were under tight budget and such things were not budgeted. I remember other kids getting such things in their lunch. What did happen, I failed to observe anything to get all envious about in that scenario. The kids took their little presents so much for granted that they were bored with them. I never put it together that that should be something to cherish. I imagine now that the kids who did cherish such things kept it to themselves. They would have been teased otherwise. That’s what I remember so clearly about childhood in my neck of the woods. We all were pressed to avoid the possibility of being teased. For my part, the first two years of high school were bleak because I was a target. The last two years I got my growth and stopped being an overt target but I was not well liked by any means. I never had a real girl friend in my school. Instead my girl friends came from the church group I was associated with, or neighboring schools.

In this poem, I would point out that “turning to depart” doesn’t have to mean for good, perhaps just for the day, and “journey” the same, maybe even as small as going to the store, or like a kid going to school.

Faith's Remembrance

To find particles
of your passing through my life,
like finding kisses
left under my cloak
when I take it up to wear
on my next journey,
I remember you
as you stood in the doorway
turning to depart.

April 19, 2009 11:05 PM


  1. Christopher this is so poignant and beautiful

  2. am with Linda!
    also i add sublime...
    the image is so real and palpable but the feeling it creates is so unworldly and beautiful...

    yes... it's never for good... never...
    those particles that radiate forever...

  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

  4. Very tender. And you brought to mind, some 15 years ago, when school lunches were part of my morning, and the absolute stealth with which I packed special treats and smiley faced their napkins. Such joy in it for me, anticipating their surprise. For them...probably embarassment.

  5. the beauty of nature is its simplicity.

    and in my oppinion this work of your, is just that.
    it is something that I, myself, have always thought about.

    thank you.
    for sharing.


  6. Linda and HB, thank you for your kindnesses toward my work.

    Welcome, Maha.

    Annie, I think that there were kids who cherished the attention, but just tried not to share it so they wouldn't get the flack.

    Jesus, is that you?? Thanks for making a comment. Thank you for your kindness. You are right I think, that my voice may be mine but what I write about belongs to many people.

  7. sometimes i take your mother's never packing your lunch for granted as well.... it could have been something special to appreciate at the time. perhaps something of which you were so fond that you would have to hide if from your classmates so they won't tease you and call you a "Momma's Boy".

    but you do remember what she never did, and in some way there is a fondness in that too...

    of course, i never said this.....

    i remember
    what you never did
    now that you're not here
    i flip these pictures in my head
    until you're motion's clear
    remembering what you did not
    to assuage some fear
    remembering what
    you never did
    is how i hold you dear

    it was nothing

  8. I like this; I feel as if I truly understand the sentiment.

  9. Ghost, she did pack my lunch. I am sure of it. She did not pack special little things in my lunch. It was just lunch. There were plenty like me, most kids I think, though there were a bunch of kids who ate cafeteria food and also a bunch who ate snack food. We had a snack bar too.

    I like your poem, kind of ectoplasmic if I may not say so.

  10. In The Moonshine

    I don't know if you
    can get how this is for me
    as you stand beneath
    the moon in silver
    rays, unearthly as you are
    in this raw moment.

    You said you just might
    understand me this one time
    and the ache in me,
    the ache in my bones
    has begun to part like reeds
    on the verge of things.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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