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The ladies of the family have a disease. We are besotted with the collecting of pretty vintage dishes. Cheap dime store ceramics, thrift store cut crystal, hand me down depression glass and more fill not one but three china cabinets in my little old lady school teacher’s home. Actually, there are four if you count
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My grandmother, Virgie made soup from whatever she had in the pantry, canned tomatoes, corn, green beans, potatoes, and carrots. She cooked it down then thickened it up. It was sour with a hint of all the vegetables working in tandem. Soup days at Virgies’s were reserved for project days. We could work straight through,
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“My mind is like somebody emptied the silverware drawer on a trampoline and the boys are jumping on it,” Ruth told Janice while she scrubbed the bathroom floor. Janice was in the bathtub cleaning the walls and around the window. So much mildew, it flourished in the hot soapy steam of the shower. “I don’t
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Ella’s job was to clean the ashes, cook, and sew. Mine was to embroidery and be on the lookout for a husband. I wasn’t supposed to go near the hens and chickens, but I was supposed to sit a horse and ride with the wind in my hair. I couldn’t even climb upon the beast.
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I don’t care for turkey, besides, it’s heavy and hard to handle. This year, because I’m not paying two hundred dollars for beef, I’m making pork tenderloin Wellington and smoked turkey leg Wellington experiments. If they go well, I’ll do them again for Christmas. I have one boy home for Thanksgiving, so he’ll be my
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Eutony: n. The pleasantness of a word’s sound.Your words arethe sound of kindness.The quiet of falling leavesflutter and whirl,Orange and red ride the wind and glide to the ground.They have the shove of love behind each one.bright yellow wingedyet crimson when passed under the shade of the othereach one part of your poem.The sound you
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I defer to Shakespeare again.All women in their time play all the parts.When time’s struggle hacks away at the core of motherhood, she bloomsSlices of her incognito souls fall around her.She’s protected her child with her promises Surefooted he stands on her love and covers his head, With the hat of awareness.The recognition thatHer powerful
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“What was wrong with the last gentleman caller? He was taller than you and wore a suit of the finest cut. He didn;t even grease his hair like you said you hated.” Cindora’s father, Mr. Weston poured another bourbon in disgust and slumped in his chair. His daughter made him want to pull hanks of
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One morning my classroom was unlocked and its door was open, the doorstop jammed tight to hold it open. Everyone else’s in the Penthouse, that’s what we called the third floor of West Side Middle School, was propped open too. It was weird because I always arrived an hour earlier than everyone else and their
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The aliens are here. How do you know? I saw the crop circles. Don’t be stupid. There are no such thing as crop circles. Yes there are. It’s where their mothership lands and makes a funky pattern on the ground. See? No. Jeb went out last night with his tractor and did that so the
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In the Time of the Sonnets
I’ve been writing a novel with the working title, “In the Time of the Sonnets.” Without giving anything away at all, it’s got Shakespeare, giants, messengers, and kings in it. Of course there will be a witch here or there, but that’s beside the point. I’m heavy into the rising action and I’m already surprised Read more
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Van Gogh Epiphany
When you start reading to your kids, you do it because you want them to learn to read. Then this happens. My first born read a passage from a book about Vincent Van Gogh having a “cafe moment,” when Van Gogh’s experience, memory, talent, time, and place all converged into one glorious period of creativity Read more
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The ladies of the family have a disease. We are besotted with the collecting of pretty vintage dishes. Cheap dime store ceramics, thrift store cut crystal, hand me down depression glass and more fill not one but three china cabinets in my little old lady school teacher’s home. Actually, there are four if you count
-
My grandmother, Virgie made soup from whatever she had in the pantry, canned tomatoes, corn, green beans, potatoes, and carrots. She cooked it down then thickened it up. It was sour with a hint of all the vegetables working in tandem. Soup days at Virgies’s were reserved for project days. We could work straight through,
-
“My mind is like somebody emptied the silverware drawer on a trampoline and the boys are jumping on it,” Ruth told Janice while she scrubbed the bathroom floor. Janice was in the bathtub cleaning the walls and around the window. So much mildew, it flourished in the hot soapy steam of the shower. “I don’t
-
Ella’s job was to clean the ashes, cook, and sew. Mine was to embroidery and be on the lookout for a husband. I wasn’t supposed to go near the hens and chickens, but I was supposed to sit a horse and ride with the wind in my hair. I couldn’t even climb upon the beast.
-
I don’t care for turkey, besides, it’s heavy and hard to handle. This year, because I’m not paying two hundred dollars for beef, I’m making pork tenderloin Wellington and smoked turkey leg Wellington experiments. If they go well, I’ll do them again for Christmas. I have one boy home for Thanksgiving, so he’ll be my
-
Eutony: n. The pleasantness of a word’s sound.Your words arethe sound of kindness.The quiet of falling leavesflutter and whirl,Orange and red ride the wind and glide to the ground.They have the shove of love behind each one.bright yellow wingedyet crimson when passed under the shade of the othereach one part of your poem.The sound you
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I defer to Shakespeare again.All women in their time play all the parts.When time’s struggle hacks away at the core of motherhood, she bloomsSlices of her incognito souls fall around her.She’s protected her child with her promises Surefooted he stands on her love and covers his head, With the hat of awareness.The recognition thatHer powerful
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“What was wrong with the last gentleman caller? He was taller than you and wore a suit of the finest cut. He didn;t even grease his hair like you said you hated.” Cindora’s father, Mr. Weston poured another bourbon in disgust and slumped in his chair. His daughter made him want to pull hanks of
-
One morning my classroom was unlocked and its door was open, the doorstop jammed tight to hold it open. Everyone else’s in the Penthouse, that’s what we called the third floor of West Side Middle School, was propped open too. It was weird because I always arrived an hour earlier than everyone else and their
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The aliens are here. How do you know? I saw the crop circles. Don’t be stupid. There are no such thing as crop circles. Yes there are. It’s where their mothership lands and makes a funky pattern on the ground. See? No. Jeb went out last night with his tractor and did that so the
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Everlastingly
“Everlastingly,” Janet hissed the word out as long as she could to give it the onomatopoeia sound of the crashing waves she needed to hear. “Listen! The mighty being is awake and doth with his eternal motion make a sound like thunder, everlastingly.” Janet quoted Wordsworth when she crossed the bridge to Emerald Isle. It…
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Whitewater
So they threw them together into the stream and the two splashes they made were as one. They tossed the rings into the maelstrom of the churning rapidsTheir perfect union ended as it had begun, blessed and honored.Washed downstream in holy water,Their wedding rings lost in the turbulence on the river rocks beneath the white…
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Myrtle Beach with Dad
I hate to say it, but our family vacations with Dad were bad. He was the stick in the mud, the wet blanket, the damper of all flames, the downer. He provided all the eggshells on which we all had to walk. Our Myrtle Beach vacation, the first time any of us saw the sea…
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What?
What? What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you hear me ask you first? What difference does that make? Are you going to answer me? Why wouldn’t I? What are you hiding? I’m not hiding anything? Aren’t you? How would you know? Why wouldn’t I know? Do you ever pay attention to me?…
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What I Know Is True
What do I know that’s true? I know that my family and money are important whether I like it or not. Even my sister and my brother, whom I rant and rave and write about all the time, even when I don’t like them, are all important to me. No one knows us like our…
Devonne Brown 