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Wow, it's been a while.

To give a quick explanation as to where I've been, university and flatting have swallowed me whole, followed by the bottom falling out of my life in early November when my mother had a massive stroke that destroyed most of her brain. She's...basically gone, to the point that I don't visit her, because as far as I'm concerned, my mother died in November, and her body is just taking some time to catch up. Most of my family agrees.

L got married. There was an empty seat.

I shaved my head for cancer. Dad was somewhat irritated.

Tim and I went to Nelson and did berry-picking, theatre-going, movie-watching, beach-walking, sea-paddling, market-hopping, shirt-shopping and brewery-touring before cruising up to Welly and the new flat.

I basically wanted to share with you this poem that I wrote on the 8th of November while in hospital watching over my mum. It's raw, ugly, angry and sums up that stage of grieving I was going through. I'm still grieving (burst into tears occasionally, though they're getting less and less frequent), but I'm more at peace with what's happened now.

As a small child,
When I was lost
Or frightened,
Or just didn't understand,
My mother would tell me stories.

Now my mother is gone,
And I am grown,
So I must tell myself stories.

I see her lying on the bed
And think of Avalon.

Instead of Arthur,
Nimue and Morgana le Fae have come
For my mother.

As a woman in a world that seems to hate me,
Anger is a comfortable place.

I am furious with the Fae of Avalon.

How dare you take my mother from me?
How DARE you steal her away in your fairy ship
To an enchanted sleep
In the Island of No Woes?
Do I care that someday she may return
When I am long dust
Under the winding roots of the kowhai?
We needed her now.
What right did you have?

And I will silently make my furious demands
To the empty spirits
Who will give no reply
(Fairies are capricious that way)
While my mute fury masks

Anger gives me momentum.
At least



I'm thinking of writing a series of these poems - a kind of 'Stages of Acceptance' poems, with this one being 'Anger'.

Also, I'm writing a tabletop game of I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream. The system is worked out, now I need to write the character sheets and the scenarios. I'm also contemplating writing a LARP for American Gods. Thoughts?

See you, Space Cowboys.

drumming noise inside my
feet were numb with cold and wore
head that starts when youre
a cotton gown that blazed the night


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Feb. 1st, 2013 02:52 pm (UTC)
*gives a zillion hugs*
Feb. 1st, 2013 08:49 pm (UTC)
Thanks, Kara.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )


Freya Sacksen: Blonde. Black. Jewish.

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