Foster Child- Angela McClintock

foster child

After the pain

The tears

The cries for momma

You lie in a strange bed

In a strange room

In a strange house

With strangers.

Your mind reaches out for truth

Desperately clawing at memories past

Seeking the answer to your only question

What did I Do?

You were ripped from your mother’s arm

As you screamed out her name

The echoes still reverberating

In your heart.

She didn’t respond

Reach back

Call out to you.

She just kept on sleeping.

The lady was nice

In this strange home.

They told you

you were safe

You would be ok

They would take care of you

The lady was nice

But she was not your mom

You look at the window

Watching the sun sink

Into the horizon

And you knew at that moment

You would never go home.


Angela McClintock is the Director of the Jefferson County Department of Human Resources in Birmingham, Alabama.  Working with Families in Crisis is her passion and life calling.  
 
Writing as a woman about the struggles of those who care for others brings me a calm fulfillment.  I write two blogs.  Water for Camels encourages Social Workers to keep up the good fight despite adversity, thanklessness and stress.  The other blog (from whence this poem originated) is called: The things I have seen and is published at Things I Have Seen: Blogging About Real Life.  this blog is much more personal and speaks to events and observations of my life.

Uncomfortably Numb-Christine Ray

stop
Once upon a time
i was an innocent
girl-child
full of trust
day dreams
fairy wishes
like many
girl children
barbarian
invaders
tried to claim
my territory
as their own
i was young
helpless
powerless
but absorbed
the lesson
shame

i learned to live
outside
of the country
named body
retreated
to the
the land
called
dissociation
to protect
the integrity
the fragility
of self
grew thicker
skin
became
a chameleon
felt rage
simmer
in my belly

told over
and
over
again
that I existed
for other’s
entertainment
pleasure
called
bitch
dyke
ballbuster
tease
when
i insisted
that i would
set the terms
for
who
when
where
my body
would be shared

many years
later
i meet the foe
called
neuropathy
that drags
me
out of
dissociation
and solidly back
into body
whether
i want to
be there
or not
neuropathy
is excruciating
numbness
burning
radiating pain
i laugh
at the irony

Ossuary- Sabrina Escorcio

Ossuary

She attempts to stand
upon uneven ground
atop a broken earth divide,
awkwardly balancing
between woman and child

Fissures of inheritance
the infectious bane
of her own existence,
formed beneath calloused soles
of sister, mother, grandmother

Charms contained within
the broken locket placed
delicate around her neck;
sacred curse of ancestry adorned,
yet blessed by envious men

Gaping hole expectations
inscribed in faint palm lines
anticipate a descent from innocence,
as brute, unforgiving hands voyage
forging reckless trespass

They emerge in procession
seeking temporary resolve
within the brimstone depths of
her fractured earth pedestal; built
by brother, father, grandfather

Instinctively she continues
heart blind and bound
planting seeds of trust, inside
the empty moral vessel
of a nutrient void society

Bedded upon a shroud
of ivory bridal linens,
virgin hope buried in white
between quivering legs; her
ever consuming crimson tide
an ossuary proclaimed by men


Sabrina Escorcio was born to Italian Catholic immigrant parents in the beautiful Niagara region in Ontario, Canada. Surrounded by nature and raised on a self-sustaining farm, nature and faith are two predominant themes often appearing in her work.

She grew up with a love for nature, the dramatic arts, music, as well as books and literature. After years of journaling Sabrina came to know poetry, as an adult this became an avenue of self-expression during a time of personal strife.

This hunger for poetry was insatiable, leading her to scour second hand book stores for more inspiration. There she found classic authors such as Percy Shelley, Tennyson, and Sylvia Plath, as well as many obscure poets; She began to transform her journaling into the realm of confessional poetry.

One of her favourite pieces is titled “Dark Pines Under Water” written by the Canadian poet Gwendolyn Mac Ewen. Sabrina hopes to feature her poetry in print one day, she can be found on Tumblr http://brie-writes.tumblr.com/, WordPress at sabrinaescorciosblog.wordpreess.com, Instagram at http://instagram.com/sabrina_escorcio_2018, and Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/sabrinaescorciosblog/.

Uncomfortably Numb-by Christine Ray

stop
[Another powerful poem by our powerhouse of a poet,Christine Ray!]

Once upon a time
i was an innocent
girl-child
full of trust
day dreams
fairy wishes
like many
girl children
barbarian
invaders
tried to claim
my territory
as their own
i was young
helpless
powerless
but absorbed
the lesson
shame
 
i learned to live
outside
of the country
named body
retreated
to the
the land
called
dissociation
to protect
the integrity
the fragility
of self
grew thicker
skin
became
a chameleon
felt rage
simmer
in my belly
 
told over
and
over
again
that I existed
for other’s
entertainment
pleasure
called
bitch
dyke
ballbuster
tease
when
i insisted
that i would
set the terms
for
who
when
where
my body
would be shared
 
many years
later
i meet the foe
called
neuropathy
that drags
me
out of
dissociation
and solidly back
into body
whether
i want to
be there
or not
neuropathy
is excruciating
numbness
burning
radiating pain
i laugh
at the irony