BellaOnline Mused Spring 2009
I am so pleased to announce that the two pieces I've quoted below are going to be published in the BellaOnline Mused spring edition. :) These are both 9Words pieces.
Journey Strain Urge Tug Pull Guide Seek Distance Sea
Restless Screams
Sometimes urges--primal screams of myself if you will
Yank at me like restless children who tug my hand
Come with us. Play with us. Run with us. Live please.
Should I seek these winsome toddler thoughts--follow?
Should I stay planted in my known domesticated self
Would the journey to the wilding that is within
Strain my sanity. Snap me like a twig. Break me down?
Pull me closer to that edge with fantasies of hope
With no map in hand I must let that muse guide me
Will she pull me over the bone-shattering cliff?
Will she drown me in that soul-sucking sea?
There in the distance I can hear those cries
Wailing, laughing, crying, shouting, screaming
Those restless children. Those primal screams of me.
Stephanie Arwen Lynch
9/4/2008
Mother ~ Awestruck ~ Handmade ~ Parched ~ Essence ~ Cowlick ~ Guttural ~ Forefinger ~ Mercy
We Was Robbed
My mother swore that my cowlick life
Pressing against the way things go
Would deliver her into God's hand
Crying for His mercy from my sins
Pointing that forefinger she'd shake
Holding back those guttural belly
Laughs like only my mother could give
Parched my essence lies drying
Like handmade jerky cut too thin
Slices of pain missing her
And I am awestruck in her memory
Realizing my wild cowlick life
Tribute to the power of her love
In loving memory of Marilu Lynch who should have been 69 on 11/18/2008
"We was robbed."**
Stephanie Arwen Lynch
11/23/2008
**Said by Joe Jacobs who was heavyweight boxer Max Schmeling's manager. He shouted it into a microphone in protest of the decision in the heavyweight title fight between Max Schmeling and Jack Sharkey, June 21, 1932. I feel his pain because my mama was stolen from me far too early by cancer. She was only 63 when she died.
Journey Strain Urge Tug Pull Guide Seek Distance Sea
Restless Screams
Sometimes urges--primal screams of myself if you will
Yank at me like restless children who tug my hand
Come with us. Play with us. Run with us. Live please.
Should I seek these winsome toddler thoughts--follow?
Should I stay planted in my known domesticated self
Would the journey to the wilding that is within
Strain my sanity. Snap me like a twig. Break me down?
Pull me closer to that edge with fantasies of hope
With no map in hand I must let that muse guide me
Will she pull me over the bone-shattering cliff?
Will she drown me in that soul-sucking sea?
There in the distance I can hear those cries
Wailing, laughing, crying, shouting, screaming
Those restless children. Those primal screams of me.
Stephanie Arwen Lynch
9/4/2008
Mother ~ Awestruck ~ Handmade ~ Parched ~ Essence ~ Cowlick ~ Guttural ~ Forefinger ~ Mercy
We Was Robbed
My mother swore that my cowlick life
Pressing against the way things go
Would deliver her into God's hand
Crying for His mercy from my sins
Pointing that forefinger she'd shake
Holding back those guttural belly
Laughs like only my mother could give
Parched my essence lies drying
Like handmade jerky cut too thin
Slices of pain missing her
And I am awestruck in her memory
Realizing my wild cowlick life
Tribute to the power of her love
In loving memory of Marilu Lynch who should have been 69 on 11/18/2008
"We was robbed."**
Stephanie Arwen Lynch
11/23/2008
**Said by Joe Jacobs who was heavyweight boxer Max Schmeling's manager. He shouted it into a microphone in protest of the decision in the heavyweight title fight between Max Schmeling and Jack Sharkey, June 21, 1932. I feel his pain because my mama was stolen from me far too early by cancer. She was only 63 when she died.