Lornayespeace’s Weblog

May 7, 2011, 3:24 am
Filed under: Los Angeles, Mom, Writing

For my mom

Rolled Hay - My mom's computer desktop images bring Canada to the beach as best they can.

As the city towers over me

I picture you

like me

though our city towered differently

when you lived here.

My mind tints the images to a coffee stained hue:


You’re on a motor scooter

in a miniskirt

maybe Hollywood Boulevard


You’re asleep at the door,

keys in the lock

[Your parents’ place in LA?  Laura lived there too?]


You’re in a bustling office building

saying no to a man

who sips from a coffee cup full of whisky


You’re outside

like me

peering up.

The sky an ocean.



Diving into the wreckage

we find popup books

timelines on our hands

that bleed through perfect pencils

growing filled and filling pages


We’re excavating memories

and un-memories

searching for the linchpin

that can give us air


reveal the reason why we breathe


Rolled hay

Arkansas sweat and tang

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph






like me

looking down

making maps

chronicling the evidence

seeking revisions to a storyboard

that will always thrive as incomplete


Mother’s Day
August 20, 2010, 2:29 am
Filed under: Mom, Writing

When I learned the word epoch

I shrank into a smaller me

That crawled between gravel

And traveled, meekly, upon the plankton of the sea

Words To My Mother
December 22, 2009, 10:27 pm
Filed under: Birthday Poetry, Mom, Writing

These words spread
like butter on morning toast
They warm
like cashmere and housecoats
They melt
like cheese on apple pie

These words keep me company
like late night phone calls
They lift me up
like a single eyebrow
They remind me
like leaving the house lists
photographs in books
cartoons on a refrigerator
notes on a mirror

These words are our words
un-ordinary dictionary
connotation collaboration
omission and completion.