Post by thepoetslizard on Oct 10, 2008 15:55:56 GMT 2
Virginia Cerenio is the author of Trespassing Innocence (1989). She lives in San Francisco, where she heads a company specializing in transportation services for elderly and disabled persons. Her work has also been seen in Babaylan, ed. Nick Carbo and Eileen Tabios (aunt lute, 2000). The poems here are from the latter anthology.
"My Annual Haircut"
a gift of my sister-in-law
i give myself over
to sensual pleasure
loving hands
mussing my hair
the wet comb
or is it the ocean breeze
whiskering hair strands
across my face
i almost moan with trust
a tickle of panic
at the sound of scissors
approaching my head
later, my husband finds me
fear captured in unforgiving
bathroom light
my hair, only this morning,
falling to the small of my back
now pirouettes on my tanner shoulders
mirror tell the truth
even the magic of combs and barrettes
cannot return the regal bearing
of hair piled royally upon my round head.
my mother who has spent my whole life
plotting her perfect haircut for me
will crow with glee, or
worse yet, not notice.
mother's words are worse than scissors
or even greying hair.
my daughter's hair
ringlets of brown, red, blonde,
only now demanding decoration
is everything my mother has wanted
this child's tiny head
is the new battlefield.
*
"A Definition of Pain"
my stomach muscles ache
ulcer beats a warning light
because my four year old
sits on the floor
screaming, crying, gulping air
having decided she will be in charge
of when she will stand in the corner
and not her mother.
*
"Short-Term Memory"
thoughts escape her
like the seagulls chased at the beach
too many to count
too many to name
she generates energy
a four year old nuclear power generator
radiates questions
why, mommy, why
how do they make it?
who did it?
after dinner and clean-up
we walk in the cool dark
she, flashlight everywhere
looking for answers
to questions unasked
brings a bag for collecting ideas
a quiet time, sits on the bed
drawing cats ten times
cars, butterflies, rainbows
all have smiles, circle eyes
button noses, like the artist
ABC's, stopping to ask instructions
for the hard ones.
yet somewhere memory lapses
energy diverted, synapse undone
how to help my child find in this dark
what she does not know, cannot name?
to name something
is to ignite
but there are no candles in this darkness.
