Trying to keep up with my poetry while enjoying Austin, TX is difficult. This city is so much fun and distracting as hell! It does surge with memories, though... many good, good memories of a young poet and dreamer. There are also many mistakes here, but they are now sweet mistakes, as I have only grown from them and beyond them. I treasure those mistakes equally to the good memories. They made me who I am today as much as all my accomplishments. In fact, I would surmise that they shaped me more. This poem is a reflection of that acceptance, as I accept others' mistakes, I accept my own. We cannot help from whence we came, but we can choose to change the course of our family lineage.
Family Heirlooms
Unfurl a long list of Doe-
Eyed admirers, blinking,
Repeating in the head-
Lights, “You are soooo creative,”
And shake, shake, shake those ringlets,
For such Stepford sputtering
Strokes luscious curls much more
Than a post-punk mouthpiece
Could ever begrudge.
Oh Rose, Rose, Rosie
Rosie Posey
My sweet, Posing Rosie
Electric drill into a plaster
Wall with no stud
Behind me, I fade into the cream,
Crinkled, paper Victorian-
Hoodini of active
Observation, passive
Deliberation- you swing to
Ragtime and sparkle in
Fragmented sunshine,
Reflect upon crystalline sand
Sculptures, radiate and disappear into
My folds.
Rose, rose, Rosie
Rosie Posey
Pose, Pose Rosie
“A rose of another name
Just wouldn’t smell as sweet.”
The rose had another name, and never was it sweet.
Oh Rose, Rose, Rosie
Rosie Posey
My sweet, Posing Rosie
Esta bien, esta bien- la verdad.
Porque, you didn’t draw
The coat of arms- quien?
Nadie sabe, t’was
Antes del Robert el Bruce…
Ring around the Rose’s
Pocket full of Posies
Ashes in flashes and flashes in ashes,
We all fall down.© Copyright 2009 Joanna Brown
