Showing posts with label #parents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #parents. Show all posts

Saturday, January 20, 2018

Scattered (Day 367)


scattered like pebbles 
we don’t see
each other often 
enough
which translates to: 
you 
at your window 
watching a stream 
of stoop-shouldered 
students trickle 
along the sun-cracked 
sidewalk to and from 
the community 
college up the road
you like to say
we all have our own
lives but this
is not the one
I would have chosen 
for you

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Saturday, December 30, 2017

A story worth telling (Day 346)


This woman is reading 
aloud 
to her children,
after working a 10-hour day.
This woman is a warrior.
She is on a mission of
wisdom, knowing deep in her 
battered and dazzling soul,
that there’s no better way 
to teach them 
about the world, about
how to stand up and
how speak out, 
how to engage 
how to help and
how to fight for 
what they know 
is right, and 
how to know 
what is right. 
“Imagine,” she says to them, 
without saying the words.
“Imagine how all of our 
voices coming together 
could lift us up, and 
break us out. Now 
that will be a story
worth telling.”



(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: “In the end...” by Doug Youvan










Sunday, November 26, 2017

Exurban Christmas (Day 312)

The aisles are all full 
to bursting, floor to ceiling, 
side to side, the walkways, 
like arteries, narrowed 
by excess, and yet 
just a few bags in hand.
A whole lot of something, or 
a whole lot of nothing—
it barely matters in this 
tumbledown, blue-collar town, 
where the aisles are all full 
to bursting, but there’s little 
worth buying these days.


(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay

Tuesday, November 7, 2017

Her Place in the World (Day 293)


She is small, 
barely tall enough 
to reach 
the first swinging hoop 
from the little metal platform 
welded onto the jungle gym. 
So, when the big 
blond-haired boy 
with the raspy voice 
taunted her, 
she froze. 

And when he shoved her 
out of line and 
she landed hard 
on the concrete, 
she remained silent, 
and the other children 
did nothing, 
their eyes averted 
in fear and shame 
and the mild disgust 
the world feels for victims. 

Later, she recounted the story 
while her mother and 
grandmother cooked dinner. 
When she showed them 
her scraped elbow, 
her mother said: 
"What did you do 
to make him shove you?" 
Her grandmother added: 
"He sounds like 
a very sad little boy. 
You should pray for him." 

That day she learned 
about her place 
in the world, 
about what she could 
expect, and what she 
should tolerate. 

So, when her husband 
screamed at her for buying 
creamy peanut butter 
instead of crunchy, 
she found herself 
thinking how sorry 
he must be, and that
she needed to pray 
for him.




Intimate-partner violence (IPV), or domestic violence (DV), affects all of us in some way. 

For example: mass shootings significantly impacted children: 25 percent of mass shooting fatalities (211) were children. This is primarily driven by mass shootings related to domestic or family violence, in which over 40 percent of fatalities were children. (EverytownResearch.org)

 For a wealth of information about IPV/DV, or to seek *confidential* help, please visit the National Domestic Violence Hotline website, or call the Hotline at 1-800-799-7233




(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Andreas160578



Sunday, October 22, 2017

Dark-eyed boys (Day 277)

two dark-eyed boys
their father 
at the window parting 
red curtains  kick a ball 

where the greenest grass 
grows  watered by tears 
she cried when she kissed them 
goodbye  there  then

all she could hope for was 
a warm day  lamenting that  
during the rain  they had 
not been able to play outdoors


(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image:sasint