Sunday, May 8, 2011

Mam's Dream Book by Marion

Old bottle of "Evening in Paris"


M'am’s Dream Book
By Marion

M'am had a dream book
of pictures tore from magazines:
fancy, gold-rimmed dishes, flower gardens
and silk dresses that she glued and taped
to dime store paper in a old, beat-up
folder I had from 3rd grade.

It were worn from handling and
the page tops bore the
print of her licked thumb.
It smelled of broken dreams
and Evening in Paris.
M'am’s one extravagance
was that cheap
perfume in a cobalt blue bottle.
She rationed that
stinkin’ horse piss
like it were Shalimar.

When I was a little girl I useta say,
“M'am, when I grow up I’m gonna
buy you a big ole house with a
front and a back porch and a rose
garden.”

I never did, though.
M'am died last year, homeless,
all wore out from hard livin’.
I’ve since learnt that dreams
are for other folks
and not the likes
of M'am and me.

14 comments:

quid said...

Lovely. And sad. How well I remember "Evening in Paris"....

quid

Kelly said...

Quid's right...this IS lovely, and sad. I love that photo of the blue bottle.

I was so glad you were able to get into my blog this week! I've missed you!!!

Enjoy this gorgeous weather!

GYPSYWOMAN said...

breathtaking!!! just breathtaking! and taking me back to those days of cobalt blue bottles and evenin's in paris!!! beautiful, lady!

Ben Ditty said...

Loved the emotion in it. Especially the lines:

"the page tops bore the
print of her licked thumb.
It smelled of broken dreams
and Evening in Paris."

Wine and Words said...

Sheesh! My heart skipped a beat at "My mam died..." Was thinking...no no no! I still have to meet her!

Great poem Marion, as I didn't quite recognize your voice in it. I would love to be able to write outside myself in that way. We've got our dream books Marion...all those delicate bits we paste onto pages of "I knew, I wish, I was, I am."

Serena said...

Marion, this is absolutely wonderful! Sad, but so wonderfully from the heart.
xox

Terresa said...

Something about cobalt blue that has always grabbed me.

And this poem.

Linda S. Socha said...

Marion....:>)
Linda

Margaret Pangert said...

Marion, you are writing such genuine, evocative poetry--can we expect a book some time soon?

I'm so sorry for the loss of your Mam. She sounds romantic and dreamy like you.

Take your Mam's images from the journal and put them into words: you will have the most exotic poems.

Love, me

Fareed said...

Heart wrenchingly beautiful, i.e.

Marion said...

FYI, Mam is a fictional character who comes to me ever so often when I'm writing.

My own Mama is alive and well and still kicking ass at age 84 years young. :-)

Thank you all for your kind comments. I appreciate you all.

Martha said...

Dear Marion
My first time hitting you back, been following your blog now for a few months. Stumbled across it by divine intervention. I just wanted to give you a heartfelt thank you. Like so many woman, I have just found the strength to leave a very abusive relationship…I was blessed enough to find an angel who is in the fight of his life now with cancer….Funny how we find what we need when we are open to what life puts into our path...Your blog has helped to keep the both of us smiling, and has rekindled the writer in me, which is a very very good thing. Thank you for being an angel..

Marion said...

Martha, thank YOU for this kind comment. I quit writing for many years and am so happy I came back to it. I'm overjoyed to have had a small part in rekindling the writer in you. You'll be in my thoughts and prayers...Blessings to you and your partner...

racheld said...

I drifted in following a bottle of Evening in Paris, needing a picture to use in a blogpost about a lovely young woman of long ago, who had time for showing lovely things of life to a grubby child.

This just struck my heart in its elegant, sharp simplicity, and I'll be back soon for more of your lovely words.

Thank you.

rachel