Wednesday, March 10, 2010


On her knees again
changing his dressings
My Grandmother’s
sunlit hands over
a wound that
never healed

Seven months and
still not showing

Why I’m here-
This growing inside me
drawing me toward
the women and their

They’re staying
home, watching
A Country Practice
leafing through old Bride
and its not cliché
it’s just what they do

I’m still going
out with the boys
in the utes, in my jeans
with their guns
and beer
It’s what they do

I think of the soft bones
The ones that aren’t
mine, hardening inside
my body, half-baked
bun in the oven

Your Mother is showing
me how to make cookies
for the men to take out
I want to be good

I want to know
about babies from women
who’ve had them

Which hidden parts
of us dilate, darken
or tear


Jhon Baker said...

I love the last two stanzas or verses the most. It's plaintive and basic in all of us to attempt to draw from experience and be wont of experience we lack.

Anonymous said...

These poems, now connecting, growing into a larger body of work. Belonging to that sparse semi-desert wheatland country. Memory shards, sharp, cut to the bone yet human all over them. Love it. TF

Jé Maverick said...

I'm excited about this series - the gestation within the poem; the gestation of the creativity within you now; the pregnant pause between each publication - this is a good series, and something so obviously different from you. I find it really invigorating. :)

Graham Nunn said...

Such a powerful sequence Amanda... the refrain, Seven months and still not showing is haunting. And that ending knocked me out. So visceral, so real! Can't wait to see the evolution of this piece.

Anonymous said...

lovely, and powerful. i love the search and the pain and small smile within it..

kl said...

beautiful...remind me of long humid afternoons, wide verandahs and dirt roads...

Sean Weathers said...

nice poem. you are able to balance subjective meaning, stream-of-counsiousness and objective familiarities...i have to follow

Princess Haiku said...

I like this as it awakens my "inner voice" some of my own experiences. Very nice. I found your blog btw on the poetry blog list. I'm there too and visiting many of the great blogs that are listed. I'll be back to read more.

tania lamond said...

i love this series of poems. the interconnections.. the inner and inter connections you were making or trying too.

the will to understand others and sell. the will to somehow be present to the norm when such transformation was occuring within you.


Liliya Mazur said...

I love, love your poetry. It's a fresh look at the world. Thank you for sharing your art. You are one of my inspirations :)

Anonymous said...

Toronto Canada flowers: Rarely do I find blogs that simply the words of poetry. On a similar note, you might want to go extreme here and watch some bisaya short films:

BANJO52 said...

For me it's the opening, stanza 6 and final stanza that are especially compelling. Other visitors are referring to the series you have, but I assume you also want each poem to be capable of standing alone. In that context, I'd like a touch more info on "his" unhealed wound in the opening, its connection to pregnancy. I really like the images in your speaker's mind. I'm a male, but she helps me understand what thoughts and wondering might occur to a pregnant woman. I also like the mix of the ordinary, everyday material with haunting, maybe gothic details in her psyche.

Ó Seasnáin said...

The structure of this intrigued me - the norms for the women, the norms for the men... I felt the see-saw go up and down and I desired another ride.

Fatesjoke03 said...

Beautiful poem.

Andrew said...

Well, better late than etc, but me likem lotsa.

Anonymous said...

"drawing me towards their understanding". That was really beautiful.