School children

Poetry

They are still messes of their parents.
Small figures crouched with baggage,
they are made of
what is learned
and what has been forgotten,
like oil on water.

But they are beginning to see
where they have been sewn together,
beginning to wonder
who it was with the needle.

We avoid them
because we don’t want to remember
how it felt
to feel the stitches for the first time.
We laugh
because we don’t want to remember
how it felt
to rip them open.

Some of us left our skin this way,
letting the cold air sting our wounds.

Some of us simply try to forget
that we stitched ourselves out of school uniforms
and into business suits.

(Featured image from visualhunt.com)


 

© Kate Warren and Rebuild, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kate Warren and Rebuild with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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What did you learn From Your Grandparents?

Articles

 

“What did you learn from your grandparents?” This was the tagline on an advert I saw today on a bus for Dirty Grandpa, a new film with Robert DeNiro and Zac Efron. Even though the film looks terrible, it got me thinking. Grandparents are always portrayed as the ones who spoil us, and our relationship with them as good and pure. But lots of the time this isn’t the case, and in face we do learn a lot from them. What did you learn from your grandparents? Let me know in the comments.


 

She taught me to always appreciate the beauty of poetry. He taught me that I was likeable, that I was fun. She taught me how to make pastry. Then coffee cake. Then scones. Then pastry again. He taught me the joy of drawing moustaches on the faces in the papers. He taught me that spending time with me was not a chore, but something he enjoyed. He taught me that I was special. She taught me that I was a stupid girl. She also taught me that people who call others stupid are stupid themselves… He taught me that people can change. So did she. She taught me that the soft and the savage can come hand in hand. He taught me that your heroes can let you down. She reminded me he was human.

 


 

© Kate Warren and Rebuild, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kate Warren and Rebuild with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Dad

Poetry

I was from another world,

and so were you.

When I think of you,

I think of hills.

Long, long walks

off into the unknown –

I think of the wind in my face,

crisp, clean, clear.

I think of the autumn leaves.

I think of the magic you bring –

that something new and different and exciting

could be waiting

around any corner,

any time.

We aren’t from different worlds any more.