Tag Archives: blood roses and honey suckles

A guessing game | A poem

A Guessing Game
He could’ve been Big Randy.
He came up from Big Sandy,
He took us for a swim there once or twice.
He would come visit when he was itching
and he said only mama could scratch.
Attached to his hand he always had a present for me.
Sometimes the dolls were a little worn around the edges,
I’d guess they were leftovers.

Like me.

Another option was Little Steve.
He was lumberjack tall from Webster County somewhere.
He had thinning hair, and an impatience stare.
He hated me there.
He’d sneer at my dirty feet,
And he left my mom never felt her best.
Staying in bed for days at a time.
I stared at myself in the mirror
trying to see if my green eyes looked like his.
When he came, I’d run to Bernie’s.

Until he came.

Then there was Jason, a mason with Tiltonsville
Construction. He liked pounding bricks like
he liked pounding my mama. At least that’s what he told me
with a grin that would’ve been a sin if we had the same bloodline.
I hope he’s not my Dad, the looks that he’d give…
I like to pretend my memory’s a sieve and
they’ve slipped through the drain
after my shower when he’d leave.

Never when he was there.

My Mama hated to be called a whore,
but her door swang open more often then not.
And after their muddy tracks stained our welcome mat,
we’d hitch a ride to the country store and could buy food that week.
She was never sure,
She could never tell,
Or at least she’d never say
So the secret of my daddy’s name
Died with her that day.


I took this week’s prompt from The Reverie Journal: Daddy Issues to write a short poem about Addy’s parentage from my current novel that I’m working on, “Blood Roses and Honey Suckles.” The last poem on here was about Addy’s mama. It only made sense to write an ode to her daddy. If you have a poem about fathers, check out the post and link up.

Let me know what you think in the comments.

Aloha y’all! 


Filed under Blogging, My Poetry

About Addy’s Mama | A Poem

About Addy's Mama

She stumbled more than she walked,

she slurred when she talked.

She had a hitch in her hip

from that time she gave the slip

to the cops while she was drunk around

Old Man’s Holler.

She ran so fast,

as fast as her young piece of ass.

The old folks say

That’s the day

She got knocked up.

Stomach heavy, hips wide,

Baby laying her low

Her green eyes shone

like jealousy, money and avarice

She was convinced the source of

her power rested in the apex of her thighs

where she grudgingly pushed me out.

Her resentment hung heavy and slow,

Always simmering under the surface

Until it blew,

staining the ceiling with her

Black sludge of anger.

When she left this world,

I felt freer than I’d ever felt.

Unencumbered, my life finally my own.

Weight of her expectations,

her lies lifted.

But now, I’m still trying to figure out

who I am.

Sorting through the rumble of personality

she’d left.

She wanted to be king,

Without the headaches it brings.

Trying to shine brighter than the sun,

A bad ending is the only thing she won.



This poem was written in for reasons. One: as a response to The Reverie Journal’s prompt this week “Say Goodbye.” I also wrote this as a bit of a character sketch for Addie’s mom in my novel that I’m working on, “Bloodroses and Honeysuckles.” She is not alive in the novel, however, you can see she definitely has influence over Addie’s life.


Filed under My Poetry