Not


I held my breath for ever it seemed
when you came to my mothers bed

drunk as usual and mean as hell
but silent because of my presence

Not in front of the boy

You wanted to take my mother out
for a trip in the midst of night
on a Monday
To Copenhagen you wanted to go

but not in front of the boy
my mother answered

She was boiling inside

you, hotter than fire

but they kept it civilized
even in the height of battle

the war of sex, booze and power

but not in front of the boy


they both mumbled






Poetry by Ivan R
Read 217 times
Written on 2015-08-04 at 23:04

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
Very powerful. These things are usually hard to express in short prose, but you have done it so well.
2015-08-08


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
I like this poem a lot, but I think that it would be better if you kept the second-person "you" all of the way through it.
2015-08-05



Such is the recuperative power of poetry. Sometimes it takes a lifetime to process things we just couldn't articulate when we were children.
2015-08-05


Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
The sad stories that are buried within families are never secret. It's always the children who pay the highest price.+
Ashe
2015-08-05