By On the Occasion of Getting the Results of a Biopsy a poem by Jene’ Jackson I lifted my eyes to the sky after hearing “all clear” at a dreaded follow up To see two hawks circling between contrail X’s hallways the high ways. The hawks circled each other together but
A Birthday Poem
Fundamental, by Jene’ Jackson on her birthday, today, as she drove home down Colorado Avenue after writing all day. Perhaps, pungent as the cut onion’s night after night spray in kitchen curtains pervasive as the toddler’s goo griming the minvan seats tenacious as the smoker’s film of brown on bedroom walls,
Happy Birthday, Mom
Dear Mom, Happy Birthday, mamadear, on what would have been your 69th. I’m sitting here about to watch an Agatha Christie movie, whom you loved, eating beets then pecan shortbread, which you loved (as do I), end-of-week tired from work you would have been so happy to know I was
Out of the Blue, a Poem for You
Some days, writing is like a laser beam: sharp, focused. Other days, it’s like a flood: deep, dense. This day, this morning, I woke with an emotional hangover. Yesterday–my second Mother’s Day without my mother–was heavy with unexpected grief, conflict, and affection. My children saved it, of course, as did
My Mother’s Words to Me, Through Me
The last week or two, a sort of time warp has wrapped every moment in as intense a grief and dark a depression as just after my mother and sister-in-law died a year and two months ago. It’s as though some parts of my mind and body have moved through
Lists and Christmas: The One Thing I Want for Christmas
My childhood Christmas lists were a work of art. Crafted from hours with my nose in the Sears catalog, the key at the top was essential. Need Very Badly = NVB. Need = N. Want = W. Want Very Much = WVM. Each item (often topping 100) was coded, with its
The Layers of Funeral Day
A year ago today, my family and I, with 200+ folks, honored my mother’s life, celebrating her beautiful spirit at her funeral. She died on December 4th, 2012. This past week has been intense, sortof a dual living, split in time between now and a year ago, like it’s layered,
Thanksgiving, Family, and Light
I’ve tried several times over the last few weeks to tell you of how life is right now. Anniversaries that no one else sees pass daily: the day my mom told me which dress to wear at her funeral, the day she gave away her jewelry, her last batch of
The Somersaulted Rant of Sheisse (Thank You)
This whole thing started with “Sheisse!” (“shit” in German) And I felt justified in saying it, too. Out loud, even! For Stuff has gone Wrong all day. Broken dishes, broken wifi, broken me…ah, there’s one part of it. Only in the last few days has my mom felt…gone gone, physically
How Today is Like Homemade Butter
Today feels like butter. Well, like making butter…deep, emotional, existential conversations bubbling up and coalescing from what seemed like milk-plain, catch-up chats. I’ve been getting raw milk from the amazing folks at Larga Vista Ranch for a while now, and though it is for my children, usually I end up
