These poems these memories
They boil up with me
Sending me nostalgically
Into what I want to be
Blending words like chemistry
Expressing my life into an expository
Talking about things
Talking about flying with my pair of wings
Talking about new beginnings
The reals and the pretend endings
Talking about acting like yourself
Not like anyone else
I dive off the edge
I smash into the ledge
I brush off the pain
I look for whom to blame
And someone who can tame
The wild within me
Before I turn this into the never-ending story
I’ll sign off, still seeking eternal glory!
Teenagers and stereotypes – the jocks
The ones that don’t belong anywhere
The one who grows up to be successful
The sad ends, tragedies even though the show must go
The humor in between
The different destinations = graduation, college, or something else
People want to get off
People want to stay on
The blizzard of time that make us have no choice
But to get used to one another
Some people who you hate lividly and those you detest for no particular reason
Those you would assume the bad guys
The cool guys
The average ones
And the rare gems in between
The fussy teachers, the ones you admire
The homework you acquire
And the Beginning
Sunday morning in 1993
Wake up and wake up my twin quickly, I never knew if she minded.
The giggling would start right away
We were always like that could talk for hours even if we had nothing to say.
Elated for Sunday because that meant dad was home. Tonia and I hopped out of our beds to realize everyone was asleep so we got some water to drink for we couldn’t reach the refrigerator.
But what I remember most was after Sunday mass. My twin and I would be dressed head to toe the same. Her
Blond curls and my frizzy brown hair waved in the wind. My older sister always walked first until we four began a race to the church with my mom stopped that race quickly.
It’s the after that we all waited for.
We would sit patiently and wait until we got there.
Suddenly the familiar store window caught our eye.
Tonia and I were chosen to go with dad and honestly it was like winning the lottery. we walked carefully across the busy street holding dad’s hand happily never with a trace of embarrassment.
Dad bought the bread and the various deli meat while Tonia and I marveled at the bakery. We asked if we could have lemonada, a polish soda and dad turned and smiled saying we could have one.
We asked if we could get Agnes and John one too. He laughed and said, I’ll tell you what. You too will share one and they will share one. Ok? We nodded. It makes sense now those giant drinks to be shared. We were always so excited in that polish grocery store with the dzien Dobre and dowydzena. There was an old juk box we’d play with and a restaurant attached to the store we always wanted to but never got to to in. Then we’d help carry the bags overjoyed at the stimulation overload that this glorious store caused.
It’s no longer open but it’s always open in my mind. I can visit anytime. ❤️