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Monday, June 26, 2023

Waking Up Screaming

 


At first I thought I didn't know noir
having more of a blanc mange kind of heart,
but then I remembered I lived it once,
with an alcoholic con man
who burned down my store, which was 
also where I and my children lived.
We lost every stick we owned
in a single night.

He drank with criminals
and gangsters. I remember
one face, out the car window,
see it still, the dead steely eyes,
the jowls, the hard stare,
as money passed between them
for some malfeasance he wished
me to be an accessory to,
to cover his butt.

Noir: the day we were camping
poor, with the kids: no proper
warm camping equipment,
just a sagging tent that fell
on top of us when it rained,
the three year old slithering out
the tent flap, once,
in his sleep.
Note: Noir can be so cold.

He was angry because he hadn't
had a drink for too long, and
his life was shit. That night
malevolent forces attacked me in the tent.
The bedding puffed up, then pressed down,
hard, on me. I screamed and fought it off.

We got out and sat watching the dregs
of the campfire, and the dregs of my hope,
though there was more noir
to live before we were done.
But after I cast the darkness off,
there was blue sky again,
and a cute little house we rented
from my mother. There was a garden,
and leggy children laughing in the sun.

I wanted a song with every colour but black,
turned my face to the sky like a sunflower,
and never looked back.

for Desperate Poets: I Wake Up Screaming

9 comments:

  1. Overwhelming!! Sharing truth frees us in innumerable and profound ways. What a journey you have traveled ... many miles to go.

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  2. This is a great addition to the noir choir, Sherry. We rarely hear from the innocent in these stories, but they are here. 'Tis truly a puzzlement how some people must go so low -- and how vulnerable the innocent are to them. Quite a tale. Reminds me some of my mother with my dishonest father.

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  3. "turned my face to the sky like a sunflower,
    and never looked back."

    What a beautiful, hopeful ending.

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  4. A tale of hardships uncalled for and difficulties brought by another...hard to read until the ending wraps us up in Blue Sky...Of course it does. Thanks for sharing Sherry.

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  5. Note: Noir can be so cold.... that line underlines the story in such a heartbreaking way. What a journey you've had, Sherry... and there you are still fighting for earth and nature and showing your heart and generosity. Inspiring.

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  6. People seem to carry and spread their own noir, don't they, and some so happy about it in a way that makes happiness obscene. Excellent writing, Sherry, and plenty noir enough for me, tho the ending gives the light and hope that comes with a warming sun..

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  7. Sherry, this is one of your finest -- in its gut-level realness. I could feel it, as you told it. It rang true....and hard. But like your poems of reality often do, you ended on a hopeful note. Always looking up!

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  8. I, too, wondered if i could really write about noir, but we both managed it, eh? I'm so glad for the uplifting ending here, because unrelenting gray is just too dispiriting to deal with. The image of the child squirming out into the rain really got me. I'm glad about the "leggy children' later in the poem.

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