People and Things, a mother-daughter Blog

April 17, 2015

Expect an Audience

Filed under: Family,irony,life,Madness,Parents,people — peopleandthings @ 9:38 pm
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If it is yourself and you found it right there

Then be happy

Because

oh boy that is something else

Unless you get too old to even see yourself in

That

There

Then

You will be frustrated again

Until heaven

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June 6, 2013

It is a Brazen Conflict

if life seems fine then,

it turns always to a brazen conflict.

Something wrong certainly happens that day.

 

Of course if life tries to be at its worst,

there is definitely a brazen conflict.

With what seems to be precise demands that

the day or DAYS stretch forever, until they come to a STOP.

 

In this time, somehow the world has imposed itself,

asking for more momentum to…

build that shit up to start over again;I guess I expected to see the world circle round,

religion told me to, so did my parents wisdom, my grandparents drove it home with their unified message about

a brazen conflict and its vapor on love.

Did you not expect it?

 

 

February 24, 2010

FLOAT-Lesley

My Childhood was incredible, it set me up to understand the world in some mighty different ways…that is why I can’t ever blame my parents for anything.
This poem is for Anna. Do you regret your childhood, Dear?

Lift* raft,
Lift it,
Hear the fish clapping
It’s a pain,

Circling of elation
I should be thinking about my day,
When is my dad suppose to die?
Pink star ‘Possy” it’s a pane,
Real “it’s a plain pain”,

Because…
Left home,
To my talking…
my,
children,
into,
… survive

say…take the colors and patterns
And use them the way your
toes feel in sand,
or snow.
Always, against the wind.
It will show.

Forever

Let me point
Fish, birds, flowers, mountain views, and seascapes, eye color and a smile,
heart beats in the hands…
Float.

March 27, 2009

What Should You Keep-Lesley

Filed under: aging,Family,Humor,life,love,Parents,poetry,Uncategorized — peopleandthings @ 3:09 pm
Tags: , , , ,

So lately I have started another handwritten diary to my children, kinda like a reflection of my life, my awareness of lessons I’ve learned that they may or may not glean anything from.
     In last night’s entry I said that there are many things I remember about growing up, every strong moment that my parents gave me to become myself, even the shrug of the shoulders when I made mistakes (though those shrugs came with help out of the hole I created if I needed it) the experiences with adventure and such.
     I said, yes, there are many things that I truly appreciate about my parents and how they supported my whims and ways that let me know it was okay to be me, even in my strangeness, yet, what I wish I could have done the most is capture all the many many many times we laughed.
      I wrote that they were such wits as to inspire that in my sister and I.
I DO…I wish I could have captured those times to look back on and appreciate over and over again. There are special ones in my memory, yet there are plenty more where I really do not know what was said and I see us all cracking up; I cry out, “I want to unlock this fucking converstion….I want to be in this conversation again”.
      My childhood was spectacular, inspiring, motivating, and supportive, it made me jump boundaries when I became older that women were still held under in the 80’s and 90’s(even today) and most of all it made me awe at both of my Father and Mothers’ brilliance and humor.
     My Mom thinks she isn’t as funny as us three….but ironically she is…one of the memories about mom that can truly crack me up every time I think about it is when I am pointing fingers and cussing up a storm in high school…at both of them…and I can see the rage in her building until she blurts out…”DO YOU HAVE TO SWEAR LIKE THE REST OF THE GODDAMN ASSHOLES” ….see what I mean?…the room went silent…we all sat there for a moment contemplating her words and all of a sudden all the teenage/parents’ bullshit was gone….and soon after, we laughed for a long long while.

March 8, 2009

Saturday Morning 1970-Lesley

Filed under: art,Family,life,poetry — peopleandthings @ 12:43 am

I live far, far away from my dad

(and my mom)

But I think he chose

to wrestle exotic snakes.

Now that I think back.

 

She was probably mad,
because she felt exotic too.

 And seasons that

I did not understand.

I will only remember that morning for what

It is.

 

 

March 7, 2009

Filed under: Family — peopleandthings @ 11:09 am

anna-and-ma

December 18, 2008

Piss Your Pants-Lesley

 

How would that happen?

 

For many of the world besides the United States, it could be

what  happens when a bomb just exploded-

next door of your house,

instead of across the street,

 

Or maybe, in the USA

It could be

Some magnificent  theatrical work,

 

As a kid,

you watch a magician,

pull a rabbit out of a hat,

 

It could be all of that-

Instead of laugh,

Piss Your Pants.

 

 

 

December 11, 2008

Sometimes the World is Full of Shit-Lesley

Filed under: art,Family,Happiness,irony,life,literacy — peopleandthings @ 6:08 am

 

My daughter mentioned to me in one of her poems in this blog asking, when she could stop the world on it’s axis

 

I thought about one…

poem to say…

 

Sometimes the World is Just Full of Shit

 

It sounds plangent,

When you hear yourself;

Say something…

 Then, the street passes by,

And you ask yourself what the…why?

 

At my age, finally,

I only react at all,

To teach,

I don’t even need to ask myself,

“Was I heard?”

 

Really,

Nobody understands themselves

Like “I,”

 

And who am I to judge that?

When sometimes the world is just full of shit.

December 7, 2008

Scalidi, Scalidi, Scalidi-Lesley

Filed under: Celebration,Christmas,Family,Happiness,love — peopleandthings @ 8:45 pm

The celebration starts with flutes of Moscato d’Asti-white wine and champagne mixed — a fruity, slightly sweet, spritzy wine (Italians drink it on Christmas morning too) — with home-canned vegetable antipasti and garlic-and anchovy-with crusty bread. Pasta, spinach or broccolini  (BROCCOLI) sautéed with garlic and pour a ½ cup of red wine. Gelato and scalidi — Italian fried cookies

 

 Scalidi, Scalidi, Scalidi

What were you thinking?

 

Warm bread

Warm fried bread

With honey

Isn’t everything suppose to be with honey

All those recipes

 

With honey

All those anniversaries

With honey

Give me more

Honey

 

AND

Fried bread

 

Need the yeast

and the adorning hands

Need the lunch menu

to

Happen when

the bell Chimes at

Christmas

can’t

you hear it

 

Scalidi

I can hear it

Fried bread

It’s Scalidi

Fried with honey-

 

Salute

 

 

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