Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 Hey guys, I've been taking a poetry class this fall. We recently presented our last poem, and it seems as if only one person from my class really " got " my last poem. One guy, whom I consider to be pretty astute, said it was the most confusing poem he'd ever read and that he really wanted to understand the point, but it was lost on him. So what I'm really dying to know, is, if a group of people with experiences like mine read my poem, would it resonate with them? Also, how does reading it make you feel? The poem is about a time that I watched my mother prepare a chicken. The Chicken In a roasting pan on the counter It sits, naked Under the bright lights And I watch as she plays This chicken, she plays it like the bongos Sharp smacks of flesh on flesh She shoves her hand deep into This chicken's cavity Pulls out a fistfull Of paper-wrapped organs She tosses one to the cat, Who is obligated to eat it Then, with uncharacteristic glee, and Because she can, She turns back to this chicken and I watch as she makes it dance, Holding it by its footless nubs She sings, " doot do do doot doot " It's a one-chicken Rockette When she's done, she plops This chicken back in the pan And it's ready for the oven For her, it's just dinner Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 Wow. Well done. That hit a cord with me. It made my skin crawl and an excellent analogy of being the child of a BPD. I too have felt like the chicken. The cord that hit is the unawareness of it all by the mother with her behaviour. Unfortunately in my life at the moment I am still being the chicken. Not with Nada anymore I'm NC. It has happened in my business with staff controlling me. The chicken is sick of being " stuffed " around. lol Thanks for this today as I am on a mission to get myself back and I am yet again clearing out what doesn't work and eliminating what is unhealthy for me. Suceeded in my personal life now just need to work out the working life. Practice makes Perfect. Kazam x > > Hey guys, I've been taking a poetry class this fall. We recently presented our last poem, and it seems as if only one person from my class really " got " my last poem. One guy, whom I consider to be pretty astute, said it was the most confusing poem he'd ever read and that he really wanted to understand the point, but it was lost on him. > > So what I'm really dying to know, is, if a group of people with experiences like mine read my poem, would it resonate with them? Also, how does reading it make you feel? > > The poem is about a time that I watched my mother prepare a chicken. > > > > The Chicken > > In a roasting pan on the counter > It sits, naked > Under the bright lights > And I watch as she plays > This chicken, she plays it like the bongos > Sharp smacks of flesh on flesh > > She shoves her hand deep into > This chicken's cavity > Pulls out a fistfull > Of paper-wrapped organs > She tosses one to the cat, > Who is obligated to eat it > > Then, with uncharacteristic glee, and > Because she can, > She turns back to this chicken and > I watch as she makes it dance, > Holding it by its footless nubs > She sings, " doot do do doot doot " > It's a one-chicken Rockette > > When she's done, she plops > This chicken back in the pan > And it's ready for the oven > For her, it's just dinner > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 Thanks Kazam. It is definitely a creepy poem! Deanna > > > > Hey guys, I've been taking a poetry class this fall. We recently presented our last poem, and it seems as if only one person from my class really " got " my last poem. One guy, whom I consider to be pretty astute, said it was the most confusing poem he'd ever read and that he really wanted to understand the point, but it was lost on him. > > > > So what I'm really dying to know, is, if a group of people with experiences like mine read my poem, would it resonate with them? Also, how does reading it make you feel? > > > > The poem is about a time that I watched my mother prepare a chicken. > > > > > > > > The Chicken > > > > In a roasting pan on the counter > > It sits, naked > > Under the bright lights > > And I watch as she plays > > This chicken, she plays it like the bongos > > Sharp smacks of flesh on flesh > > > > She shoves her hand deep into > > This chicken's cavity > > Pulls out a fistfull > > Of paper-wrapped organs > > She tosses one to the cat, > > Who is obligated to eat it > > > > Then, with uncharacteristic glee, and > > Because she can, > > She turns back to this chicken and > > I watch as she makes it dance, > > Holding it by its footless nubs > > She sings, " doot do do doot doot " > > It's a one-chicken Rockette > > > > When she's done, she plops > > This chicken back in the pan > > And it's ready for the oven > > For her, it's just dinner > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 Thanks Kazam. It is definitely a creepy poem! Deanna > > > > Hey guys, I've been taking a poetry class this fall. We recently presented our last poem, and it seems as if only one person from my class really " got " my last poem. One guy, whom I consider to be pretty astute, said it was the most confusing poem he'd ever read and that he really wanted to understand the point, but it was lost on him. > > > > So what I'm really dying to know, is, if a group of people with experiences like mine read my poem, would it resonate with them? Also, how does reading it make you feel? > > > > The poem is about a time that I watched my mother prepare a chicken. > > > > > > > > The Chicken > > > > In a roasting pan on the counter > > It sits, naked > > Under the bright lights > > And I watch as she plays > > This chicken, she plays it like the bongos > > Sharp smacks of flesh on flesh > > > > She shoves her hand deep into > > This chicken's cavity > > Pulls out a fistfull > > Of paper-wrapped organs > > She tosses one to the cat, > > Who is obligated to eat it > > > > Then, with uncharacteristic glee, and > > Because she can, > > She turns back to this chicken and > > I watch as she makes it dance, > > Holding it by its footless nubs > > She sings, " doot do do doot doot " > > It's a one-chicken Rockette > > > > When she's done, she plops > > This chicken back in the pan > > And it's ready for the oven > > For her, it's just dinner > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 I got it. Totally got it. But I can see why hardly anyone in your class would have - to them it sounds like seeing something homely, amusing and comforting in a wierd light that they arent used to. I think youve put the exact feeling of watching an abusive parent toy with something the same way they toy with you. They see you exactly the same as a chicken. Its just a thing, youre just a thing. I can actually imagine you, watching from a bit of a distance, saying nothing, and certainly not finding it funny. Perhaps a little glad that the attention is off you for a bit. Perhaps tell them to imagine how a murderer would prepare a chicken, in front of their intended victim. Then get them to read the poem again. I bet it makes sense then. Then say its very similar to how a young child views their mother who has BPD. Good luck with the rest of your class - Ive always wanted to have a crack at poetry but never really had a chance. Youve got a flair for it! Any others you could share with us? > > Hey guys, I've been taking a poetry class this fall. We recently presented our last poem, and it seems as if only one person from my class really " got " my last poem. One guy, whom I consider to be pretty astute, said it was the most confusing poem he'd ever read and that he really wanted to understand the point, but it was lost on him. > > So what I'm really dying to know, is, if a group of people with experiences like mine read my poem, would it resonate with them? Also, how does reading it make you feel? > > The poem is about a time that I watched my mother prepare a chicken. > > > > The Chicken > > In a roasting pan on the counter > It sits, naked > Under the bright lights > And I watch as she plays > This chicken, she plays it like the bongos > Sharp smacks of flesh on flesh > > She shoves her hand deep into > This chicken's cavity > Pulls out a fistfull > Of paper-wrapped organs > She tosses one to the cat, > Who is obligated to eat it > > Then, with uncharacteristic glee, and > Because she can, > She turns back to this chicken and > I watch as she makes it dance, > Holding it by its footless nubs > She sings, " doot do do doot doot " > It's a one-chicken Rockette > > When she's done, she plops > This chicken back in the pan > And it's ready for the oven > For her, it's just dinner > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 I got it. Totally got it. But I can see why hardly anyone in your class would have - to them it sounds like seeing something homely, amusing and comforting in a wierd light that they arent used to. I think youve put the exact feeling of watching an abusive parent toy with something the same way they toy with you. They see you exactly the same as a chicken. Its just a thing, youre just a thing. I can actually imagine you, watching from a bit of a distance, saying nothing, and certainly not finding it funny. Perhaps a little glad that the attention is off you for a bit. Perhaps tell them to imagine how a murderer would prepare a chicken, in front of their intended victim. Then get them to read the poem again. I bet it makes sense then. Then say its very similar to how a young child views their mother who has BPD. Good luck with the rest of your class - Ive always wanted to have a crack at poetry but never really had a chance. Youve got a flair for it! Any others you could share with us? > > Hey guys, I've been taking a poetry class this fall. We recently presented our last poem, and it seems as if only one person from my class really " got " my last poem. One guy, whom I consider to be pretty astute, said it was the most confusing poem he'd ever read and that he really wanted to understand the point, but it was lost on him. > > So what I'm really dying to know, is, if a group of people with experiences like mine read my poem, would it resonate with them? Also, how does reading it make you feel? > > The poem is about a time that I watched my mother prepare a chicken. > > > > The Chicken > > In a roasting pan on the counter > It sits, naked > Under the bright lights > And I watch as she plays > This chicken, she plays it like the bongos > Sharp smacks of flesh on flesh > > She shoves her hand deep into > This chicken's cavity > Pulls out a fistfull > Of paper-wrapped organs > She tosses one to the cat, > Who is obligated to eat it > > Then, with uncharacteristic glee, and > Because she can, > She turns back to this chicken and > I watch as she makes it dance, > Holding it by its footless nubs > She sings, " doot do do doot doot " > It's a one-chicken Rockette > > When she's done, she plops > This chicken back in the pan > And it's ready for the oven > For her, it's just dinner > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 I got it. Totally got it. But I can see why hardly anyone in your class would have - to them it sounds like seeing something homely, amusing and comforting in a wierd light that they arent used to. I think youve put the exact feeling of watching an abusive parent toy with something the same way they toy with you. They see you exactly the same as a chicken. Its just a thing, youre just a thing. I can actually imagine you, watching from a bit of a distance, saying nothing, and certainly not finding it funny. Perhaps a little glad that the attention is off you for a bit. Perhaps tell them to imagine how a murderer would prepare a chicken, in front of their intended victim. Then get them to read the poem again. I bet it makes sense then. Then say its very similar to how a young child views their mother who has BPD. Good luck with the rest of your class - Ive always wanted to have a crack at poetry but never really had a chance. Youve got a flair for it! Any others you could share with us? > > Hey guys, I've been taking a poetry class this fall. We recently presented our last poem, and it seems as if only one person from my class really " got " my last poem. One guy, whom I consider to be pretty astute, said it was the most confusing poem he'd ever read and that he really wanted to understand the point, but it was lost on him. > > So what I'm really dying to know, is, if a group of people with experiences like mine read my poem, would it resonate with them? Also, how does reading it make you feel? > > The poem is about a time that I watched my mother prepare a chicken. > > > > The Chicken > > In a roasting pan on the counter > It sits, naked > Under the bright lights > And I watch as she plays > This chicken, she plays it like the bongos > Sharp smacks of flesh on flesh > > She shoves her hand deep into > This chicken's cavity > Pulls out a fistfull > Of paper-wrapped organs > She tosses one to the cat, > Who is obligated to eat it > > Then, with uncharacteristic glee, and > Because she can, > She turns back to this chicken and > I watch as she makes it dance, > Holding it by its footless nubs > She sings, " doot do do doot doot " > It's a one-chicken Rockette > > When she's done, she plops > This chicken back in the pan > And it's ready for the oven > For her, it's just dinner > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 OMG Deanna, This totally rings true for me. I could also see how, without a " set up " it would be hard for regular joes with regular parents to make any sense of it. This put a chill in my spine. My nada had a few " back on the farm " stories that she would tell. One of them was of her mother cutting the heads off the chickens and watching them run around the yard. It was actually one of those gross, giggly, stories but my mind totally took me there after reading your poem. This was how my nada and animal stories surfaced - in the context of, that was how we did things on the farm. Ok, I had chicken for dinner tonight. I may just become a vegan too Deanna, with this running through my head...LOL. Do you have a chicken story that I am forgetting or that may have prompted this poem? patinage > > Hey guys, I've been taking a poetry class this fall. We recently presented our last poem, and it seems as if only one person from my class really " got " my last poem. One guy, whom I consider to be pretty astute, said it was the most confusing poem he'd ever read and that he really wanted to understand the point, but it was lost on him. > > So what I'm really dying to know, is, if a group of people with experiences like mine read my poem, would it resonate with them? Also, how does reading it make you feel? > > The poem is about a time that I watched my mother prepare a chicken. > > > > The Chicken > > In a roasting pan on the counter > It sits, naked > Under the bright lights > And I watch as she plays > This chicken, she plays it like the bongos > Sharp smacks of flesh on flesh > > She shoves her hand deep into > This chicken's cavity > Pulls out a fistfull > Of paper-wrapped organs > She tosses one to the cat, > Who is obligated to eat it > > Then, with uncharacteristic glee, and > Because she can, > She turns back to this chicken and > I watch as she makes it dance, > Holding it by its footless nubs > She sings, " doot do do doot doot " > It's a one-chicken Rockette > > When she's done, she plops > This chicken back in the pan > And it's ready for the oven > For her, it's just dinner > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 Hi Patinage, I don't have a chicken story. I've seen little things...like her cutting the cockatiel's nails and never failing to make several bleed. I cut my cats' nails all the time and have never made them bleed. I just watch what I'm doing. But she never seemed remorseful when it happened. I was probably 16 or 20 when I saw her prepare this chicken, and it creeped me out in the moment. She was unusually happy while doing it, and that always was weird. She was actually giddy while she did this. I did feel like, " Geez, the bird is dead already. Do you have to humiliate it? " When I showed this to my therapist, she just GOT IT right away, and I suddenly felt exposed. Hey, it's OK to eat the chicken, just don't make it dance first! Deanna > > > > Hey guys, I've been taking a poetry class this fall. We recently presented our last poem, and it seems as if only one person from my class really " got " my last poem. One guy, whom I consider to be pretty astute, said it was the most confusing poem he'd ever read and that he really wanted to understand the point, but it was lost on him. > > > > So what I'm really dying to know, is, if a group of people with experiences like mine read my poem, would it resonate with them? Also, how does reading it make you feel? > > > > The poem is about a time that I watched my mother prepare a chicken. > > > > > > > > The Chicken > > > > In a roasting pan on the counter > > It sits, naked > > Under the bright lights > > And I watch as she plays > > This chicken, she plays it like the bongos > > Sharp smacks of flesh on flesh > > > > She shoves her hand deep into > > This chicken's cavity > > Pulls out a fistfull > > Of paper-wrapped organs > > She tosses one to the cat, > > Who is obligated to eat it > > > > Then, with uncharacteristic glee, and > > Because she can, > > She turns back to this chicken and > > I watch as she makes it dance, > > Holding it by its footless nubs > > She sings, " doot do do doot doot " > > It's a one-chicken Rockette > > > > When she's done, she plops > > This chicken back in the pan > > And it's ready for the oven > > For her, it's just dinner > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 Thank you so much. Yes, I can see why a normal person wouldn't get it, I guess. I also did a time line of my life events for another class, and got marked off because some things I said were " normative " (happen to many) were actually " non-normative " ! I KNEW I would get marked off for not knowing what normal is! LOL! I posted this one a few months ago, but I have since rewritten it: should have tried harder i should have tried harder to be a good daughter to not make her angry to swallow her rage to look in her eyes as her fingers dug in me face full of disgust i should have tried harder i should have tried harder to feel love for my mother, no matter that her gaze was not tender her touch made me cringe i should have tried harder I should have sat still when the curling iron burned me saying " ouch " made her hit me I tried to cry quiet I should have sat still I should have stayed longer when she needed an ear as she bemoaned my father my brother my aunt the air glutted with rage I should have stayed longer I should have talked longer when she demanded an hour a day on the phone when she mocked when i hurt and wailed we weren't closer I should have been stronger than to hang up that phone and never call back should have held myself tighter and swallowed my rage I should have been stronger than to fear my big brother his e-mails so damning telling me that i'm shit just suck it up bitch, you need a spanking if he has sad feelings, they are just hiding under the jack and the weed and the rage and the gambling and choking his daughter when she says i hate you and just who the fuck is he to judge me? i should have healed faster for $110 an hour my father's hand trembles he can't remember my name i should have healed faster i should have tried harder to be a good daughter to be what she wanted, not what she sowed i tried to be stronger but i should have tried harder > > > > Hey guys, I've been taking a poetry class this fall. We recently presented our last poem, and it seems as if only one person from my class really " got " my last poem. One guy, whom I consider to be pretty astute, said it was the most confusing poem he'd ever read and that he really wanted to understand the point, but it was lost on him. > > > > So what I'm really dying to know, is, if a group of people with experiences like mine read my poem, would it resonate with them? Also, how does reading it make you feel? > > > > The poem is about a time that I watched my mother prepare a chicken. > > > > > > > > The Chicken > > > > In a roasting pan on the counter > > It sits, naked > > Under the bright lights > > And I watch as she plays > > This chicken, she plays it like the bongos > > Sharp smacks of flesh on flesh > > > > She shoves her hand deep into > > This chicken's cavity > > Pulls out a fistfull > > Of paper-wrapped organs > > She tosses one to the cat, > > Who is obligated to eat it > > > > Then, with uncharacteristic glee, and > > Because she can, > > She turns back to this chicken and > > I watch as she makes it dance, > > Holding it by its footless nubs > > She sings, " doot do do doot doot " > > It's a one-chicken Rockette > > > > When she's done, she plops > > This chicken back in the pan > > And it's ready for the oven > > For her, it's just dinner > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 Hey, and also, if you want to take a crack at poetry, take a class or join a group! Give it a try! Deanna > > I got it. Totally got it. > But I can see why hardly anyone in your class would have - to them it sounds like seeing something homely, amusing and comforting in a wierd light that they arent used to. > > I think youve put the exact feeling of watching an abusive parent toy with something the same way they toy with you. They see you exactly the same as a chicken. Its just a thing, youre just a thing. I can actually imagine you, watching from a bit of a distance, saying nothing, and certainly not finding it funny. Perhaps a little glad that the attention is off you for a bit. > > Perhaps tell them to imagine how a murderer would prepare a chicken, in front of their intended victim. Then get them to read the poem again. I bet it makes sense then. Then say its very similar to how a young child views their mother who has BPD. > > > Good luck with the rest of your class - Ive always wanted to have a crack at poetry but never really had a chance. Youve got a flair for it! Any others you could share with us? > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 Wow - I get it. So many responses we have are due to the experiences we've had in life. Poetry is like that. A poem can really hit a nerve, we can think that it's nice or it may be a total blank to us. I think this is graphic and makes complete sense to anyone who's been the naked chicken having their guts ripped out and then tossed aside as nothing more than a piece of meat. > > Hey guys, I've been taking a poetry class this fall. We recently presented our last poem, and it seems as if only one person from my class really " got " my last poem. One guy, whom I consider to be pretty astute, said it was the most confusing poem he'd ever read and that he really wanted to understand the point, but it was lost on him. > > So what I'm really dying to know, is, if a group of people with experiences like mine read my poem, would it resonate with them? Also, how does reading it make you feel? > > The poem is about a time that I watched my mother prepare a chicken. > > > > The Chicken > > In a roasting pan on the counter > It sits, naked > Under the bright lights > And I watch as she plays > This chicken, she plays it like the bongos > Sharp smacks of flesh on flesh > > She shoves her hand deep into > This chicken's cavity > Pulls out a fistfull > Of paper-wrapped organs > She tosses one to the cat, > Who is obligated to eat it > > Then, with uncharacteristic glee, and > Because she can, > She turns back to this chicken and > I watch as she makes it dance, > Holding it by its footless nubs > She sings, " doot do do doot doot " > It's a one-chicken Rockette > > When she's done, she plops > This chicken back in the pan > And it's ready for the oven > For her, it's just dinner > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 That one is so gut-wrenching... brutally honest. At the very least, your poetry teacher is getting an education on BPD. Well done on being brave enough to bear your soul to others in such a way. > > Thank you so much. Yes, I can see why a normal person wouldn't get it, I guess. I also did a time line of my life events for another class, and got marked off because some things I said were " normative " (happen to many) were actually " non-normative " ! I KNEW I would get marked off for not knowing what normal is! LOL! > > I posted this one a few months ago, but I have since rewritten it: > > should have tried harder > > i should have tried harder > to be a good daughter > to not make her angry > to swallow her rage > to look in her eyes > as her fingers dug in me > face full of disgust > i should have tried harder > > i should have tried harder > to feel love for my mother, > no matter that > her gaze was not tender > her touch made me cringe > i should have tried harder > > I should have sat still > when the curling iron burned me > saying " ouch " made her hit me > I tried to cry quiet > I should have sat still > > I should have stayed longer > when she needed an ear > as she bemoaned my father > my brother > my aunt > the air glutted with rage > I should have stayed longer > > I should have talked longer > when she demanded > an hour > a day on the phone > when she mocked when i hurt > and wailed we weren't closer > > I should have been stronger > than to hang up that phone > and never call back > should have held myself tighter > and swallowed my rage > > I should have been stronger > than to fear my big brother > his e-mails so damning > telling me > that i'm shit > just suck it up bitch, > you need a spanking > if he has sad feelings, they are just hiding > under the jack and the weed and the rage and the gambling > and choking his daughter when she says i hate you > and just who the fuck is he to judge me? > > i should have healed faster > for $110 an hour > my father's hand trembles > he can't remember my name > i should have healed faster > > i should have tried harder > to be a good daughter > to be what she wanted, > not what she sowed > i tried to be stronger but > i should have tried harder > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 That one is so gut-wrenching... brutally honest. At the very least, your poetry teacher is getting an education on BPD. Well done on being brave enough to bear your soul to others in such a way. > > Thank you so much. Yes, I can see why a normal person wouldn't get it, I guess. I also did a time line of my life events for another class, and got marked off because some things I said were " normative " (happen to many) were actually " non-normative " ! I KNEW I would get marked off for not knowing what normal is! LOL! > > I posted this one a few months ago, but I have since rewritten it: > > should have tried harder > > i should have tried harder > to be a good daughter > to not make her angry > to swallow her rage > to look in her eyes > as her fingers dug in me > face full of disgust > i should have tried harder > > i should have tried harder > to feel love for my mother, > no matter that > her gaze was not tender > her touch made me cringe > i should have tried harder > > I should have sat still > when the curling iron burned me > saying " ouch " made her hit me > I tried to cry quiet > I should have sat still > > I should have stayed longer > when she needed an ear > as she bemoaned my father > my brother > my aunt > the air glutted with rage > I should have stayed longer > > I should have talked longer > when she demanded > an hour > a day on the phone > when she mocked when i hurt > and wailed we weren't closer > > I should have been stronger > than to hang up that phone > and never call back > should have held myself tighter > and swallowed my rage > > I should have been stronger > than to fear my big brother > his e-mails so damning > telling me > that i'm shit > just suck it up bitch, > you need a spanking > if he has sad feelings, they are just hiding > under the jack and the weed and the rage and the gambling > and choking his daughter when she says i hate you > and just who the fuck is he to judge me? > > i should have healed faster > for $110 an hour > my father's hand trembles > he can't remember my name > i should have healed faster > > i should have tried harder > to be a good daughter > to be what she wanted, > not what she sowed > i tried to be stronger but > i should have tried harder > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 Awww thanks! > > > > Thank you so much. Yes, I can see why a normal person wouldn't get it, I guess. I also did a time line of my life events for another class, and got marked off because some things I said were " normative " (happen to many) were actually " non-normative " ! I KNEW I would get marked off for not knowing what normal is! LOL! > > > > I posted this one a few months ago, but I have since rewritten it: > > > > should have tried harder > > > > i should have tried harder > > to be a good daughter > > to not make her angry > > to swallow her rage > > to look in her eyes > > as her fingers dug in me > > face full of disgust > > i should have tried harder > > > > i should have tried harder > > to feel love for my mother, > > no matter that > > her gaze was not tender > > her touch made me cringe > > i should have tried harder > > > > I should have sat still > > when the curling iron burned me > > saying " ouch " made her hit me > > I tried to cry quiet > > I should have sat still > > > > I should have stayed longer > > when she needed an ear > > as she bemoaned my father > > my brother > > my aunt > > the air glutted with rage > > I should have stayed longer > > > > I should have talked longer > > when she demanded > > an hour > > a day on the phone > > when she mocked when i hurt > > and wailed we weren't closer > > > > I should have been stronger > > than to hang up that phone > > and never call back > > should have held myself tighter > > and swallowed my rage > > > > I should have been stronger > > than to fear my big brother > > his e-mails so damning > > telling me > > that i'm shit > > just suck it up bitch, > > you need a spanking > > if he has sad feelings, they are just hiding > > under the jack and the weed and the rage and the gambling > > and choking his daughter when she says i hate you > > and just who the fuck is he to judge me? > > > > i should have healed faster > > for $110 an hour > > my father's hand trembles > > he can't remember my name > > i should have healed faster > > > > i should have tried harder > > to be a good daughter > > to be what she wanted, > > not what she sowed > > i tried to be stronger but > > i should have tried harder > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 Awww thanks! > > > > Thank you so much. Yes, I can see why a normal person wouldn't get it, I guess. I also did a time line of my life events for another class, and got marked off because some things I said were " normative " (happen to many) were actually " non-normative " ! I KNEW I would get marked off for not knowing what normal is! LOL! > > > > I posted this one a few months ago, but I have since rewritten it: > > > > should have tried harder > > > > i should have tried harder > > to be a good daughter > > to not make her angry > > to swallow her rage > > to look in her eyes > > as her fingers dug in me > > face full of disgust > > i should have tried harder > > > > i should have tried harder > > to feel love for my mother, > > no matter that > > her gaze was not tender > > her touch made me cringe > > i should have tried harder > > > > I should have sat still > > when the curling iron burned me > > saying " ouch " made her hit me > > I tried to cry quiet > > I should have sat still > > > > I should have stayed longer > > when she needed an ear > > as she bemoaned my father > > my brother > > my aunt > > the air glutted with rage > > I should have stayed longer > > > > I should have talked longer > > when she demanded > > an hour > > a day on the phone > > when she mocked when i hurt > > and wailed we weren't closer > > > > I should have been stronger > > than to hang up that phone > > and never call back > > should have held myself tighter > > and swallowed my rage > > > > I should have been stronger > > than to fear my big brother > > his e-mails so damning > > telling me > > that i'm shit > > just suck it up bitch, > > you need a spanking > > if he has sad feelings, they are just hiding > > under the jack and the weed and the rage and the gambling > > and choking his daughter when she says i hate you > > and just who the fuck is he to judge me? > > > > i should have healed faster > > for $110 an hour > > my father's hand trembles > > he can't remember my name > > i should have healed faster > > > > i should have tried harder > > to be a good daughter > > to be what she wanted, > > not what she sowed > > i tried to be stronger but > > i should have tried harder > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 5, 2010 Report Share Posted December 5, 2010 Awww thanks! > > > > Thank you so much. Yes, I can see why a normal person wouldn't get it, I guess. I also did a time line of my life events for another class, and got marked off because some things I said were " normative " (happen to many) were actually " non-normative " ! I KNEW I would get marked off for not knowing what normal is! LOL! > > > > I posted this one a few months ago, but I have since rewritten it: > > > > should have tried harder > > > > i should have tried harder > > to be a good daughter > > to not make her angry > > to swallow her rage > > to look in her eyes > > as her fingers dug in me > > face full of disgust > > i should have tried harder > > > > i should have tried harder > > to feel love for my mother, > > no matter that > > her gaze was not tender > > her touch made me cringe > > i should have tried harder > > > > I should have sat still > > when the curling iron burned me > > saying " ouch " made her hit me > > I tried to cry quiet > > I should have sat still > > > > I should have stayed longer > > when she needed an ear > > as she bemoaned my father > > my brother > > my aunt > > the air glutted with rage > > I should have stayed longer > > > > I should have talked longer > > when she demanded > > an hour > > a day on the phone > > when she mocked when i hurt > > and wailed we weren't closer > > > > I should have been stronger > > than to hang up that phone > > and never call back > > should have held myself tighter > > and swallowed my rage > > > > I should have been stronger > > than to fear my big brother > > his e-mails so damning > > telling me > > that i'm shit > > just suck it up bitch, > > you need a spanking > > if he has sad feelings, they are just hiding > > under the jack and the weed and the rage and the gambling > > and choking his daughter when she says i hate you > > and just who the fuck is he to judge me? > > > > i should have healed faster > > for $110 an hour > > my father's hand trembles > > he can't remember my name > > i should have healed faster > > > > i should have tried harder > > to be a good daughter > > to be what she wanted, > > not what she sowed > > i tried to be stronger but > > i should have tried harder > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 6, 2010 Report Share Posted December 6, 2010 I once wrote a short non-fiction story for one of my college classes...and my teacher told me that my writing, although excellent with lots of detail and imagery, was not based in reality. It was about my mother. my teacher told me that I needed to write about the truth in non-fiction. he didn't know my mom. i think teachers should be trained in spotting abuse and taught how to gently intervene if there are warning signs. some people are just screaming out for help, silently. Amy Re: Poem: The Chicken Awww thanks! > > > > Thank you so much. Yes, I can see why a normal person wouldn't get it, I guess. I also did a time line of my life events for another class, and got marked off because some things I said were " normative " (happen to many) were actually " non-normative " ! I KNEW I would get marked off for not knowing what normal is! LOL! > > > > I posted this one a few months ago, but I have since rewritten it: > > > > should have tried harder > > > > i should have tried harder > > to be a good daughter > > to not make her angry > > to swallow her rage > > to look in her eyes > > as her fingers dug in me > > face full of disgust > > i should have tried harder > > > > i should have tried harder > > to feel love for my mother, > > no matter that > > her gaze was not tender > > her touch made me cringe > > i should have tried harder > > > > I should have sat still > > when the curling iron burned me > > saying " ouch " made her hit me > > I tried to cry quiet > > I should have sat still > > > > I should have stayed longer > > when she needed an ear > > as she bemoaned my father > > my brother > > my aunt > > the air glutted with rage > > I should have stayed longer > > > > I should have talked longer > > when she demanded > > an hour > > a day on the phone > > when she mocked when i hurt > > and wailed we weren't closer > > > > I should have been stronger > > than to hang up that phone > > and never call back > > should have held myself tighter > > and swallowed my rage > > > > I should have been stronger > > than to fear my big brother > > his e-mails so damning > > telling me > > that i'm shit > > just suck it up bitch, > > you need a spanking > > if he has sad feelings, they are just hiding > > under the jack and the weed and the rage and the gambling > > and choking his daughter when she says i hate you > > and just who the fuck is he to judge me? > > > > i should have healed faster > > for $110 an hour > > my father's hand trembles > > he can't remember my name > > i should have healed faster > > > > i should have tried harder > > to be a good daughter > > to be what she wanted, > > not what she sowed > > i tried to be stronger but > > i should have tried harder > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 6, 2010 Report Share Posted December 6, 2010 Wow Deanna, I found your poem incredibly powerful. Thank you for sharing it. You really summed up what it is like for us. I love reading and writing poetry as well. I think it has its own rhythm like music and can be incredibly powerful. Mostly I have written happy poems for my family, but haven't really shared some of the others I keep for myself. I wanted to share one that I wrote a few years back. This mask I wear Doesn't cover my face But protects me from my fears It keeps me safe And hids my feelings And protects me from my tears This masquerade is no ball And does not bring me joy It hides me from friend and foe alike It does not help me to stand tall It is my wall to keep me safe And my prison that I cannot leave Instead of protecting me It pushes away those that would stand by me It buries the true strength I have inside And keeps my true self locked away It blocks my true feelings and expressions And seals my lips on what I truly want to say This mask I wear to keep me safe Protects me from everything From love, from joy, from happiness From all the good that makes you want to sing This mask I wear to hide my face And protect me from my tears Hides me from all the good in the world Even though I built it to hid me from my fears It protects me from the hatred and pain I have experienced in my past From sadness, tears, cruelty and loss I built it, so I could last But this mask I wear to be strong Only makes me weak It keeps me from being myself And facing up to what I have feared all along This mask I wear I want no longer But I don't know how to take it off To feel what is truly inside of me And no longer be afraid to show it I want to show the world Who I know I can be To share the love and beauty I know is dep inside of me I want to walk the path of life Hand-in-hand with friends and true family To live life to the fullest No longer being aftraid to just... be ... me! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 6, 2010 Report Share Posted December 6, 2010 Tala, that was a gorgeous and painful poem. So true to your belief system and true to mine too. It's been a horrible way to live...and I also have sealed my lips with being the personality I know I can be. I am still behind a mask although nobody would ever know it. Amy Re: Poem: The Chicken Wow Deanna, I found your poem incredibly powerful. Thank you for sharing it. You really summed up what it is like for us. I love reading and writing poetry as well. I think it has its own rhythm like music and can be incredibly powerful. Mostly I have written happy poems for my family, but haven't really shared some of the others I keep for myself. I wanted to share one that I wrote a few years back. This mask I wear Doesn't cover my face But protects me from my fears It keeps me safe And hids my feelings And protects me from my tears This masquerade is no ball And does not bring me joy It hides me from friend and foe alike It does not help me to stand tall It is my wall to keep me safe And my prison that I cannot leave Instead of protecting me It pushes away those that would stand by me It buries the true strength I have inside And keeps my true self locked away It blocks my true feelings and expressions And seals my lips on what I truly want to say This mask I wear to keep me safe Protects me from everything From love, from joy, from happiness From all the good that makes you want to sing This mask I wear to hide my face And protect me from my tears Hides me from all the good in the world Even though I built it to hid me from my fears It protects me from the hatred and pain I have experienced in my past From sadness, tears, cruelty and loss I built it, so I could last But this mask I wear to be strong Only makes me weak It keeps me from being myself And facing up to what I have feared all along This mask I wear I want no longer But I don't know how to take it off To feel what is truly inside of me And no longer be afraid to show it I want to show the world Who I know I can be To share the love and beauty I know is dep inside of me I want to walk the path of life Hand-in-hand with friends and true family To live life to the fullest No longer being aftraid to just... be ... me! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 6, 2010 Report Share Posted December 6, 2010 Tala, that was a gorgeous and painful poem. So true to your belief system and true to mine too. It's been a horrible way to live...and I also have sealed my lips with being the personality I know I can be. I am still behind a mask although nobody would ever know it. Amy Re: Poem: The Chicken Wow Deanna, I found your poem incredibly powerful. Thank you for sharing it. You really summed up what it is like for us. I love reading and writing poetry as well. I think it has its own rhythm like music and can be incredibly powerful. Mostly I have written happy poems for my family, but haven't really shared some of the others I keep for myself. I wanted to share one that I wrote a few years back. This mask I wear Doesn't cover my face But protects me from my fears It keeps me safe And hids my feelings And protects me from my tears This masquerade is no ball And does not bring me joy It hides me from friend and foe alike It does not help me to stand tall It is my wall to keep me safe And my prison that I cannot leave Instead of protecting me It pushes away those that would stand by me It buries the true strength I have inside And keeps my true self locked away It blocks my true feelings and expressions And seals my lips on what I truly want to say This mask I wear to keep me safe Protects me from everything From love, from joy, from happiness From all the good that makes you want to sing This mask I wear to hide my face And protect me from my tears Hides me from all the good in the world Even though I built it to hid me from my fears It protects me from the hatred and pain I have experienced in my past From sadness, tears, cruelty and loss I built it, so I could last But this mask I wear to be strong Only makes me weak It keeps me from being myself And facing up to what I have feared all along This mask I wear I want no longer But I don't know how to take it off To feel what is truly inside of me And no longer be afraid to show it I want to show the world Who I know I can be To share the love and beauty I know is dep inside of me I want to walk the path of life Hand-in-hand with friends and true family To live life to the fullest No longer being aftraid to just... be ... me! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 6, 2010 Report Share Posted December 6, 2010 Hi Amy! I'd go one better and say that not just teachers, but everyone, needs more awareness of BPD/NPD. It's almost like there's a conspiracy of silence around these disorders, which allows those to have it to run riot over the lives of others, especially children. I'm very sorry that teacher devalued your writing. He/she was obviously in a state of denial. If you still have the piece, why don't you pull it out and consider showing it (or a portion of it) to us? We'll give you the real feedback!!! AFB > > > > > > Thank you so much. Yes, I can see why a normal person wouldn't get it, I guess. I also did a time line of my life events for another class, and got marked off because some things I said were " normative " (happen to many) were actually " non-normative " ! I KNEW I would get marked off for not knowing what normal is! LOL! > > > > > > I posted this one a few months ago, but I have since rewritten it: > > > > > > should have tried harder > > > > > > i should have tried harder > > > to be a good daughter > > > to not make her angry > > > to swallow her rage > > > to look in her eyes > > > as her fingers dug in me > > > face full of disgust > > > i should have tried harder > > > > > > i should have tried harder > > > to feel love for my mother, > > > no matter that > > > her gaze was not tender > > > her touch made me cringe > > > i should have tried harder > > > > > > I should have sat still > > > when the curling iron burned me > > > saying " ouch " made her hit me > > > I tried to cry quiet > > > I should have sat still > > > > > > I should have stayed longer > > > when she needed an ear > > > as she bemoaned my father > > > my brother > > > my aunt > > > the air glutted with rage > > > I should have stayed longer > > > > > > I should have talked longer > > > when she demanded > > > an hour > > > a day on the phone > > > when she mocked when i hurt > > > and wailed we weren't closer > > > > > > I should have been stronger > > > than to hang up that phone > > > and never call back > > > should have held myself tighter > > > and swallowed my rage > > > > > > I should have been stronger > > > than to fear my big brother > > > his e-mails so damning > > > telling me > > > that i'm shit > > > just suck it up bitch, > > > you need a spanking > > > if he has sad feelings, they are just hiding > > > under the jack and the weed and the rage and the gambling > > > and choking his daughter when she says i hate you > > > and just who the fuck is he to judge me? > > > > > > i should have healed faster > > > for $110 an hour > > > my father's hand trembles > > > he can't remember my name > > > i should have healed faster > > > > > > i should have tried harder > > > to be a good daughter > > > to be what she wanted, > > > not what she sowed > > > i tried to be stronger but > > > i should have tried harder > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 6, 2010 Report Share Posted December 6, 2010 AFB!!, Thank you. I would love to share some of my writings. I was an English writing major...and taught English at a major university when i was 20. Now all I need to do is find them! I have about 50 poems of sadness, pain and escape...many essays just crying out for help. None of my professors ever asked me if there was anything wrong. When I taught, I scheduled appointments with the kids whose words were screaming " HELP ME, " and we spoke and many things were revealed. It's truly astounding how us humans survive, seemingly alone, through the most horrible and torturous challenges without ever asking for help. Haha...and I know you guys will give me the feedback on how you really feel!!! Amy Re: Poem: The Chicken Hi Amy! I'd go one better and say that not just teachers, but everyone, needs more awareness of BPD/NPD. It's almost like there's a conspiracy of silence around these disorders, which allows those to have it to run riot over the lives of others, especially children. I'm very sorry that teacher devalued your writing. He/she was obviously in a state of denial. If you still have the piece, why don't you pull it out and consider showing it (or a portion of it) to us? We'll give you the real feedback!!! AFB > > > > > > Thank you so much. Yes, I can see why a normal person wouldn't get it, I guess. I also did a time line of my life events for another class, and got marked off because some things I said were " normative " (happen to many) were actually " non-normative " ! I KNEW I would get marked off for not knowing what normal is! LOL! > > > > > > I posted this one a few months ago, but I have since rewritten it: > > > > > > should have tried harder > > > > > > i should have tried harder > > > to be a good daughter > > > to not make her angry > > > to swallow her rage > > > to look in her eyes > > > as her fingers dug in me > > > face full of disgust > > > i should have tried harder > > > > > > i should have tried harder > > > to feel love for my mother, > > > no matter that > > > her gaze was not tender > > > her touch made me cringe > > > i should have tried harder > > > > > > I should have sat still > > > when the curling iron burned me > > > saying " ouch " made her hit me > > > I tried to cry quiet > > > I should have sat still > > > > > > I should have stayed longer > > > when she needed an ear > > > as she bemoaned my father > > > my brother > > > my aunt > > > the air glutted with rage > > > I should have stayed longer > > > > > > I should have talked longer > > > when she demanded > > > an hour > > > a day on the phone > > > when she mocked when i hurt > > > and wailed we weren't closer > > > > > > I should have been stronger > > > than to hang up that phone > > > and never call back > > > should have held myself tighter > > > and swallowed my rage > > > > > > I should have been stronger > > > than to fear my big brother > > > his e-mails so damning > > > telling me > > > that i'm shit > > > just suck it up bitch, > > > you need a spanking > > > if he has sad feelings, they are just hiding > > > under the jack and the weed and the rage and the gambling > > > and choking his daughter when she says i hate you > > > and just who the fuck is he to judge me? > > > > > > i should have healed faster > > > for $110 an hour > > > my father's hand trembles > > > he can't remember my name > > > i should have healed faster > > > > > > i should have tried harder > > > to be a good daughter > > > to be what she wanted, > > > not what she sowed > > > i tried to be stronger but > > > i should have tried harder > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 6, 2010 Report Share Posted December 6, 2010 I have news for your classmate -- this poem is not confusing at all, at least not to me. It sends an icy chill right down my body, as I feel like that chicken: exposed, cold, manipulated, gutted, played with, made to " dance " and " sing " against my will, examined, mocked. I was born with a " birth defect " (as they were called back then) that involved my legs and hips, so that from infancy to age five, I was constantly having these parts of my body manipulated, handled, and moved by adults -- parents and doctors. I wore a hip brace. People were always " listening " to my hips to hear whether they still " clicked " (a bad sign). I relate to that chicken -- being handled, discussed, its legs seized and it can't escape. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 6, 2010 Report Share Posted December 6, 2010 Wow. That is outstanding. And profound to boot. Yeah . . . it resonates. And it captures so much. The slapping, the violation, the manipulation, her glee at such an odd moment, and how she is so totally disconnected. The last time a piece of writing made me feel like this, I was reading Flannery O'Conner--one of my favorites. You are very good. And it's not surprising it wasn't easily understood by your class. That often happens to great poets and writers! Blessings, Karla > > Hey guys, I've been taking a poetry class this fall. We recently presented our last poem, and it seems as if only one person from my class really " got " my last poem. One guy, whom I consider to be pretty astute, said it was the most confusing poem he'd ever read and that he really wanted to understand the point, but it was lost on him. > > So what I'm really dying to know, is, if a group of people with experiences like mine read my poem, would it resonate with them? Also, how does reading it make you feel? > > The poem is about a time that I watched my mother prepare a chicken. > > > > The Chicken > > In a roasting pan on the counter > It sits, naked > Under the bright lights > And I watch as she plays > This chicken, she plays it like the bongos > Sharp smacks of flesh on flesh > > She shoves her hand deep into > This chicken's cavity > Pulls out a fistfull > Of paper-wrapped organs > She tosses one to the cat, > Who is obligated to eat it > > Then, with uncharacteristic glee, and > Because she can, > She turns back to this chicken and > I watch as she makes it dance, > Holding it by its footless nubs > She sings, " doot do do doot doot " > It's a one-chicken Rockette > > When she's done, she plops > This chicken back in the pan > And it's ready for the oven > For her, it's just dinner > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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