The Truth of Hindsight

Hindsight is always better it is said
always invoking in me the transgressions
in my past of the egregious kind

conceived into an ethnically diverse family
curious of the differences, yet both drawn
and repelled like a moth to a flame

one of only a handful of such families
in an all-white neighborhood
though I did not distinguish it
then

my reddish skinned father and white mother
craving more but for unspoken reasons
spoken in private understanding

she from impoverished beginnings
he in accepting only European roots

agreeing upon only one thing in union
the dictates of societal norms for me
a child of the female persuasion

that marriage is best accepted sooner
than later & children are part of the
sanctioned outcome

but mind you if such an arrangement
is not a path upon which you wish to tread
then only professions of nursing
and teaching will suffice

for creativity in writing or artistic endeavor
will never sustain you in living
and you would know this
in hindsight

now in hindsight I only understand that
not everything that comes before
is better than that which
comes later

in hindsight I wish I had known that
choosing the passion of your heart
over being accepted
is what my path
Should
Have
Been

© Renee Espriu May 2019

Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created As Art

Passion

Rainbow Laced Muses

dreams are like the sweet smell
of ambrosia
not like
the bitter of coffee
before her

she sits by the restaurant window

staring at nothing

and seeing everything

perhaps she sees her life
without children
running about
demanding
time

time she doesn’t have and
does not have to give
for life should chord

space and quiet

life should be filled

with writing muses
laced with rainbows

filled with artist
paper

& tools for both
housed in a place

beneath
trees

sprinkled with star dust

a place with fields of
wild flowers so
she can commune

with nature
with her
soul

she is lost in her thoughts
as the restaurant
comes to life
around her

with the laughter of

children

playing

she is reminded that life
hinges on choices
of ambivalence

like her food
turning cold
it is only
new

within the essence
of the moment

© September 2017 Renee Espriu

This is in response to Jamie Dede’s Wednesday Prompt. Read more at
https://jamiededes.com/2017/09/13/hes-a-tumble-weed-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt. The photo below was taken from Morgue File & digitally altered.

Sweet Ambrosia

 

The Admirable “Mouse”

i yearn for the simplicity
of writing
fingers wrapped ’round
pen or pencil
bringing to life
unchoreographed
 tidings

unlike walking into a
warehouse office store to
view the most admirable
‘mouse’ required in
every household
 adored

awaiting the newest owner
to purchase them
taking one home to
begin the commencement
of writing via
keyboard

until i realize there seems
to be a disconnect
 between my
un-furried friend and me
nothing moving
or seen

my anxiety growing if words
cannot flow i make my
way back to the ‘super’
warehouse office store
talking to youth
in an uproar

he pointedly states that
‘it shouldn’t be
that hard’
i point out the vast
difference in age
 setting the stage

i turn on my heel to leave
him there
returning to my
mouse companion
only to find he has now
settled in

i again yearn for the
simplicity of
writing once again
fingers wrapped ’round’
pencil or pen

© August 2012
Renee Espriu

How frustrated can one become I found out today when my mouse died and found I was lost without him. Going in search of a new one and then trying to connect him was a new experience as this one does not plug in. Go figure! It probably would have been easier to simply pick up a pen and paper but as everyone seems to be, I too am tied into the world of technology and could not begin until my mouse was once again working.