
My-My-My
My mum lived in a little blue house
at the top of a hill where lodgepole pines
leaned in the wind like a widow’s hump,
and there was a creek, raged full when it
rained, but the soil sucked it dry by July,
(I’m being generous when I say “creek” –
it was more like a drainage ditch),
and behind the house was a tilting shed
full of drying wood where black snakes
with red long stripes lived and fed on
anything that just happened to fly by
(I hate snakes, and hated that they jumped
at me when fetching firewood from the pile),
and there was something called a shrew
(Excuse me, Mum, but that’s a rat!) that
lived in the pump house by the well, and
to the left of the sagging, slack clothesline
was a row of raspberries and to the right
was a row of blueberries that deer ate
when Mum wasn’t looking, although
if she saw them, she’d throw stones at them,
(I wish she’d taught me to throw like that),
and she lived in her blue house for years
after Dad died, all alone on 5-acres with
a kitchen garden that kept her fed all year,
(and not even a cat to keep her company),
but one night as she slept a 16-year old boy
(who I’m sure has grown into an exemplary man)
broke into her house, took her wallet and
her money and Dad’s gold retirement watch
with the dead battery, and it was that incident
that changed her mind about living alone,
all isolated in her blue house. She didn’t
think twice. Sold up and moved into a little
flat in town, where she planted flowers and
vegetables in their communal grounds.
Mum said she felt safe there, but said her
elbows were a bit pinned to her sides,
and whenever she drove around, every
third word she uttered was my-my-my.
A Stream of Consciousness for Linda Hill that begins with ‘my’ and ends with ‘my’, plus a prompt from dVerse: using a poetic device called a Soliloquy. The image is mine, as in I sketched and painted it from an old photo. Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021
31 responses to “A dVerse Soliloquy Stream of Consciousness”
Every word, every thought you put into this delightful soliloquy ~~~ I thoroughly enjoyed!!!! Way to compose a stream of consciousness.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks, Helen!
LikeLike
Wonderful artwork and story to fill in the details. Your mom sounds like she was a tough old bird. Sounds like a delinquent neighbor kid that the family probably knew or a distant cousin? I’m sorry her “elbows were pinned to her sides” when she moved, but also very happy that she could continue her gardening.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Not much stood in my mum’s way when her mind was set. 😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Just lovely, Misky – painting and poem. I felt so pulled in and engaged from the very first word and the descriptions were full of light and humour but also strong reality. Evocative and strong.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much!! Glad you like it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a wonderful read! I could picture it all through the magic of your words. Bravo!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks!
LikeLike
Gentle, melancholic musing, Misky…not quite a soliloquy because I felt like you were sharing these thoughts, but I’m so glad you did.
LikeLike
Enjoyed. Both verbal and visual!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, b.
LikeLike
This is really beautiful – the story and the writing. So sad that she felt her elbows pinned to her side.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Really drawn to this visual & word art. What did you mean in the words “elbows were pinned to her side”?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Because she was used to open spaces, her flat seemed claustrophobic; she couldn’t swing a cat, was the phrase she used.
LikeLike
What a wonderful story.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Gorgeous! Writing as it should be. This post has made it to my shortlist for top three favourite posts of this year. 👏👏👏
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh my gosh! Thank you 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are very welcome!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is a shame your mum had to give up her home for one man’s greed.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow… I assume they caught him, since you know his age and sex?
❤
David
LikeLike
Yes, he was caught.
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank goodness he didn’t hurt her!
LikeLiked by 1 person
An evocative picture you paint, with both words and watercolour. So sad that this happened to your mum, but it sounds like she made the best out of the move!
LikeLike
Yes, she absolutely did make the most of it. She was very happy there.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I love the story and the picture… what has passed really is part of us.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks so much!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I really enjoyed reading this true tale. Your painting is wonderful!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks, Sara!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, I love this story and the way you use parenthesis to shatter your own narrative. Your poetry has been a pleasure to read this year. I’m inspired by yoru verse and your twiglets. Cheers to you, Misky.
LikeLike
Thanks, and to you as well, K.
LikeLiked by 1 person