Taped to the wall of my cell are 47 pictures: 47 black
faces: my father, mother, grandmothers (1 dead), grand-
fathers (both dead), brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts,
cousins (1st and 2nd), nieces, and nephews.They stare
across the space at me sprawling on my bunk.I know
their dark eyes, they know mine.I know their style,
they know mine.I am all of them, they are all of me;
they are farmers, I am a thief, I am me, they are thee.
I have at one time or another been in love with my mother,
1 grandmother, 2 sisters, 2 aunts (1 went to the asylum),
and 5 cousins.I am now in love with a 7-yr-old niece
(she sends me letters in large block print, and
her picture is the only one that smiles at me).
I have the same name as 1 grandfather, 3 cousins, 3 nephews,
and 1 uncle. The uncle disappeared when he was 15, just took
off and caught a freight (they say).He's discussed each year
when the family has a reunion, he causes uneasiness in
the clan, he is an empty space.My father's mother, who is 93
and who keeps the Family Bible with everbody's birth dates
(and death dates) in it, always mentions him.There is no
place in her Bible for "whereabouts unknown."
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From guest poetryality (contact)
I am one for family. Even when locked away we can see their smiling faces. I have a sofa table and all my end tables, and the wall in my computer room hold hundreds of eyes starring at me, no matter what mood or circumstance. I love the feel of this work. Thanks Dez for leading me here! The funny thing is, I posted this poet here. LOL Much Love ♥ -
Devastatingly realistic, when the world is reduced to the temporary wallpaper of a cell, yet the mind and spirit can embrace life in in its many flavors of experience, and can want..want more than we have...more love more caring, there are no dead ends in life, even the ones we make from bricks and bars, and lock away from the rest of the world...PK
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