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Text of the page (random words):
radfemisphere skip to content menu radfemisphere twitter facebook instagram pinterest rss feed cobbler subscribe to continue reading subscribe to get access to the rest of this post and other subscriber only content type your email subscribe already a subscriber by radfemisphere july 25 2025 249 words morning poem in my seventy first year there was tumult and the taste of salt on my upper lip turnings and airplanes and cold beds with multiple siblings where was i and when would it stop the night air raids were the worst begun with swift pulling down of blackout drapes dinner and early lights out no exceptions because they could see our quarters if revealed from the air if we even peeped out for a moment and we would be reported and my father black marked they had their exercises their military preparedness oiled the machines marched the soldiers in lines rumbled the old tanks for some general s visit these dressup military games were the business of the base children ran amongst the converted wwii barracks and grass grew in sidewalk cracks and behind chain link fences one night the low flying bombers came roaring overhead was this the night was this it little heart pounded but i must not stir to wake my older sibling goliath for she would shame me for my tears cold tracks slid down the side of my face and filled my ears so still did i become in order for her not to know i held my breath that a nightmarish world war terror flew overhead at night in daytime i read of nuremberg war trials the stars and stripes newspaper reported details in tiny print and black and white with a finger i could string together the few words someone had taken off their skin while alive how could this happen where could we be mother said we were invited and defeated a great enemy who might still pop out of a bunker we could not be sure but we stayed strong because we were from land of the free and home of the brave somewhere far away and oceans apart my body remembered those long hours planked inside military transport prop planes over cement gray waves oceans to cross and worlds away the daddy s stayed strong we had won a war mommy told me and now the world is safer but not for long she had to tell me the rest that war is caused by greed and she told my tear stained face that she did not see an end to greed in my lifetime i m glad my mother told me the truth i did have two feet and if war broke out at school i could always run home she said don t let them catch you my two feet have been running ever since they are the only things which have travelled with me through continents and mountain ranges and treadmill of time my same two feet are with me now and what if mommy what if a melting weapon comes and there is no home to return to it is gone she said the answer is the same thing honey to look at our two feet and know those two feet are the only things that go with us on our road and if we someday find our homes blown and our town gone to make peace with our same good feet to make our new home where i stand and out of that tornado of early years like rock out of hobbyist gem tumbler we are all tumbling together like this small chips on shoulders grazed off by friends if we are lucky enough the decades sculpt around us a geode of angles and prismatic lights like looking in a dressing table mirror where faces multiply and images spill into each other forever the kaleidoscope of childhood settles in old age vignettes of colored glass captured in stained glass i can remember being seven years old and knowing that adults kill children in war and nobody seems to care or listen to the children that child is within me still she is the voice i never let go i will never forget what it is like to be a child and see how our world is killing children i never lost my dog tags nor forgot the children i have carried them with me to this day i have run from danger and fought life threatening mud over decades i have come to see the world is the same our planet is still burning with hate and also coral bells now bloom in the spring the fire is still burning and the children are still home by radfemisphere may 18 2024 june 10 2025 736 words leave a comment pink moon easter pink moon easter i ve come home again to my secret place my forest crying tree the years i released my tears on her sturdy bark shoulders in those old days with a young family at home i could jog in this forest and actually feel my heart by the second mile in i felt so deep in the woods i barely made it stumbling to that tree i leaned in on that trusty trunk for dear life my knees buckling and letting my tears go but quietly so as not to alarm the neighbors nobody heard those muffled sorrows but the crying tree and me she always held me as long as i could not stand on my own there was a hillock of duff at her root so soft on my knees i am now very grateful for all of life s gifts these many years later my secret place is now grown round and full under a pink moon by radfemisphere june 8 2023 162 words leave a comment pink moon easter pink moon easter i ve come home again to my secret place my forest crying tree the years i released my tears on her sturdy bark shoulders in those old days with a young family at home i could jog in this forest and actually feel my heart by the second mile in i was also deep in the woods i barely made it stumbling to that tree i could lean in on that trusty trunk for dear life my knees buckling and letting my tears go but quietly so as not to alarm the neighbors nobody heard those muffled sorrows but the crying tree and me she always held me as long as i could not stand on my own there was a hillock of duff at her root so soft on my knees i am now very grateful for all of life s gifts these many years later my secret place is now grown round and full under a pink moon by radfemisphere april 22 2022 163 words 2 comments you know who you are flat tires fire ants phone solicitation we think of you with dread anticipation slapstick turtle sex tomato jello aspic you re as funny as worn out elastic nightmare pickled pigs feet irs we d be pleased if you forgot our address queen bees arthritic knees balding pates remember everything gets replaced root canals bus exhaust gelatinous spam must we repeat it once again charley horses mother in laws old retriever bones we d be happier if you just left us alone by radfemisphere april 18 2021 73 words 1 comment last night in magnolia full moon lays a lacy wreath below a shadowy seckle pear tree red fruits shone on branches bent heavy with full season weight pearl night all the better to see a clear parting show always observe fully what is lost before embracing new gains by radfemisphere april 18 2021 44 words 2 comments summer evening remembrance i remember my father with hose in hand a spray of water arched expertly over new lawn his curve of smile held me spellbound on the steps maybe he was happy like that at bowling alleys too when constant irritation at six kids and three jobs receded his bull neck and clenched jaw slacked in momentary relief i didn t know then that he was from a state called illinois his people weren t farmers just poor field hands just as we always were in those army dog years everywhere we moved he d test the soil lift palmful of dirt to his nose for inspection sifting and sniffing in wordless appraisal my father could grow green grass on any continent new blades obediently rose to heed his command tonight i stand and water my new garden smell the dampening earth and aid seedlings take hold my own smile of deep satisfaction comes bittersweet for there is now so much i know so very much too late by radfemisphere april 18 2021 163 words leave a comment legacy when i was seventeen and irksome you knocked at my bedroom door swore through gritted teeth that no matter what i did no matter what my father s booming voice decried that i could always come home later you were fifty five and stupified slouched and spreading in tacky polyester your red rimmed eyes were dulled and i came to know what price your words that kindness born only after many tears see how the ground bulges each spring and listen to the migrating birds call their return a recurring miracle like your gift to us of an angel sister or your bedtime readings of the rhymes and wild tales written by brothers grimm i shall always feel your soft hands on my back this march in stone light the season of my birth i am coming back to you just as i will always come back to you with memories of tulips and spoken books and your fountain in the backyard from its center spouts a blue stream by radfemisphere april 18 2021 april 18 2021 166 words leave a comment three pink roses for my mother anita i picked these long stemmed pink roses turning each branch three times checking for its best side before i cut each stalk trimmed to perfection the thorned rubbed off a tiny white plump spider dislodged from this bouquet the best that i have got i took care to smell the opened petals they were sweet now i have a five year old firstborn bright as a july day who prints her name with your old letter press set a special set of wooden stamps you let me first use as a child you printed anita janice there in nineteen twenty eight she has added her olivia jane below your own on the inside of the 64 year old cardboard lid anita and olivia today i watched you walk away together up the ramp off the ferry rhododendron roses in hand a seamless branch between generations by radfemisphere april 18 2021 145 words 1 comment posts navigation older posts create a free website or blog at wordpress com menu menu home about contact twitter facebook instagram pinterest rss feed radfemisphere blog at wordpress com subscribe subscribed radfemisphere sign me up already have a wordpress com account log in now privacy radfemisphere subscribe subscribed sign up log in report this content view site in reader manage subscriptions collapse this bar loading comments write a 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