This morning I was cleaning up instead After my well fed children While they rest their weary head I didn't cook dinner this evening It was the children's turn They argued over whether to have Snitzel, sausage or lamb I didn't make the carnival Athletics, swim, cross country I had to work that day That week, all year and couldn't come I couldn't take a holiday My leave was all used up From tending to the snotty noses, headaches, wheeze and coughs. But every day is fun around here, we laugh and listen and care But lay a word of criticism to the mothers out there.. Do you dare?
There's something wrong My brain is numb My back is out The words don't come My teeth on edge Stuck in my head I feel referred pain Down my leg Shut-down meltdown Walk all 'bout town Spending eating giving spree How to live life Just.for.me.
We play, rest, rise Woven skein unwinding Houses apart, river abreast Taking tea on balcony
Always a mystery of two minds No sensation for downcast eyes Cascading words lost and find Fruitless picking out motivations
The bottom of pot, cooled Renewed, steeped brew simmering heat Rose between two cheeks
A blush sweet from scorching sun Below 42 degrees Blistering sleet
Homebody, I nest alone Full grown tenderlings Binding fallen threads Of existence into thermal weave
So that you, like father Can protect and heal wind kissed skin As salty drops slide winsomly A welcome sting. Long missed love
Ursula Halpin, (1972- ) ‘Displaced Mary, Mother of hope’ ~ inspired by Irish lace. Weaves stories of women and fragmented families. Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery. Twist exhibition 2023
Once a many ravens
Perched on picnic walls
Encroaching so daringly
Staring back and forth
Babes in arms were cradled
Toddlers stopped from harm
Backed away hauntingly
Edge from warm spring calm
Escape to caves below
Calcified remains.
Hundred years a column
Ancestors' way laid
Cacophany of cries
Heard across the skies
Sharp eye of witnesses
Those who bled and died
~Inspired by The Nightingale Film (2018)
Count the stars of heaven 