WRITING PRACTICE AND STUDY SHOWCASE: Poems by Jo Hastie

Mother: Now

 

I hate this house          I hate living here          This place is just a mess

I hate my job                I am so tired                 It’s alright for you

I’m too old for all that                                                   Just wait until you get to my age

If I took all those pills I have in my drawer, do you think they would kill me

Your father never loved me                 When he left, I just fell apart and I’ve never been the same



I am so proud of you and what you and your brother have achieved

The best times I have are when I am out with you and him

I just get so lonely        sometimes       on my own.

I just want to die




Lost in the ether

 

They are all here for you, she said, hushed words drifting like smoke around my ears

in this dream-state, I float in the ether              this is not happening



broken women gathered outside the building offered hugs and sad half smiles

healing in numbers, an army of support



we love you, and we loved him too, but

there is no balm to numb this kind of pain



I am not ready



With a best friend on one arm, unexpected Mother on my left

reluctant legs death march in slow motion toward the church



I am not ready

 

I face the truth of the casket                            your body is in there

I sob and shake and hug my denial                              I am not ready



Fathers only kill their sons in stories                I didn’t sign up for this

I am not ready 

 

Nocturnal Animals

Wild creatures                                                 

 &

predatory beasts                      prowl    here

            feed: saturated currency

                                                            or

                                                                        lust





Dogs                                        leer                  from hot car windows

tongues

dripping and lolling

at the meat.



Vultures                                   circling                                     waiting

for a price

drop

*out of date frozen goods belong in the bargain bin





sub-humans

                                    sway outside

 in the flesh carousel



envying the  numbness           of their own limbs

silent prayers

for a flickering face to                          stop                                         let them in



two kinds of desperation                                                                                             collide

                                                no warmth in this          horror-dance



the final curtain delivers                       scant respite

from the shadows

driving them

                                                                                                to these red-light streets.


Mother: Then



Be quiet           Sit down           Go to sleep      Stop that!     Sit still      Stop fidgeting

Give me peace             QUIET!                                   

Stop making a mess                 Shut up            Oh my God!                

Tidy up after yourself              You’re just not domesticated at all       



Look at the mess of your room                        What’s wrong with you?           That’s only for boys

Get outside, take your brother with you.          Look after your brother!

I don’t think you should do that



Look at the state of your hair               You look like a boy                   This is not normal

           



Why do you do these things?

Nobody else’s kids behave like this                             You’re not normal





                       

            You’re just like your father



I wish you’d never been born

These poems are an extract from Mental Image Retrospective, Jo’s creative writing dissertation. It is a life backwards piece comprising of poetry, prose and scripts, the work geared towards performance as well as for the page. Jo is currently performing at various spoken word events, facilitating a women’s writing group and working on several writing projects. She is hoping to develop her dissertation into a show for the next Edinburgh Fringe.
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