I recall sitting on your knee, Even then it was all hush-hush. Your facemask comes to worry me, You held me tight as though to crush
You mock and say ungrateful child, With cruel mouth so tightly sewn. My thoughts recall being reviled, Many a night I cried alone.
Now you seek me out from your grave, How hurtful it is for me. Me, ungrateful child n'er forgave, You scald my heart then laugh with glee.
The stars shudder and fade away, The earth quivers as you spoke. This ungrateful child asked and taunt, You lied back then the truth I sought.
This has voodoo crawling all over it, Mr. Cajun Man! The "facemask" made me go back and read it a few times. Each time with more enjoyment!You dug deep to bring all of this out but it beats going to a shrink!! Fantabulous!!
I've known such hateful people. Even from their grave, their tentacles reach for me. But we must be strong and forget them. Only then, will they be truly gone.
People talk about "tough love" but this is really about "tough hate", whose tentacles still cling. Truly heartfelt. "You lied back then the truth I sought," and still seek.
This collection of poetry addresses the nature of time, reflections on the natural world, the difficulty of loss,
contemporary social issues and gratitude for life.
Early Works is an exhaustive compilation of the first decade of the poems and stories of Z.B.McClure. Included are family photos, rare personal photos, photos of 1st draft manuscripts of many of his early poems. Also some biography and memoir materia
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Love ya!
Jane