I know a woman who served you cake you needled her about woman’s work. I know a woman who’s eating cake – She wouldn’t be silent, she kept her worth. I know a woman nearly drowned by water. You took her head you held it under. I know a woman who rose from the deadContinue reading “Every woman has a story”
Author Archives: Anne Birkam
Don’t touch
Hey you, archaeologist, this piece of porcelain is fragile. She didn’t ask you to mark her with your heavy paws. She breaks when you play with her like GI Joe- falls into pieces- splinters off- irreplaceable- even with a strong adhesive. Flickers of bone and soul are gone forever and the lines- those shadows areContinue reading “Don’t touch”
headache poem
this blade in my head nags at me it asks where are you come and play with me my feet drag unwilling- but i come like a rat to the poison back and back again 1980s
Every man a musician
The music of your life is pain. You orchestrate the scars in bloodletting fingertips, urging the lizards out the sides of your hands. The music of my life is words. They come spilling from my ears, a resonant timber of consonants and vowels in a vocal profession. Let the music of my life rain uponContinue reading “Every man a musician”
Skin is a Godly creation
Skin is a Godly creation. It holds the muscles that surround the bones which protect the lungs the kidneys the heart. Race is a human disturbance. It drops the conscience which is plagued by disease a victim to eternal intolerance. 11/2016
walking in the city
i follow them – two men letting my feet tread quietly yet they stare back at me letting me know that i’m either crazy or stupid to be alone i sit on a park bench counting dandelions and shine as the park lights do a man in blue and gold comes up to me andContinue reading “walking in the city”
Frederick Douglass
My typewriter does not recognize you. When I type the letters of your name- beep- not in my vocabulary- beep-no such word beep-no such word But what do machines know? They cannot work without the light, know nothing of dark nights and quiet passages. The power they have comes from volts and plugs andContinue reading “Frederick Douglass”
Age
I cannot today from yesterday render any line. Nor tomorrow’s promises from today’s define. So if you ask me of my age I’ll tell you this is so; I’m one day more than yesterday, the rest I hardly know. 11/30/1980
Frost
The line in my garden is September box elder ant make the final push tomatoes turn red in paper bags The line in my garden is October chard kale spinach check tomatoes turn red in paper bags The line in my garden is November Cassandra beckons no one hears 11/16/2016
Poetry
why is a simple question to answer gutter balls and backstabbers watergates and timetables men dying in foreign lands widows eating dog food children growing and not growing old the front pages of newspapers the back pages of autobiographies why is a simple question to answer 12/27/1979
Anne's mediocre poetry 