Thursday, September 02, 2004


A one step stairway, unplanned for so the porch became a bedroom.

Sitting on the back steps watching the ducks play in the plastic pond.

Waiting on the front steps for the boys to come home from school.

On the front steps, or on the back ones... anywhere to get away from the yelling.

Chill in the air, on the front steps waiting for that blue pickup to come pick us up with our trash bags full of clothes.

New set of stairs. And another.

Crooked steps, watching 'em play catch.

Cement steps, hard on the bare feet.

Hiding out on the stairway watchin' movies I aint supposed to see.

Sneeking down the stairway to clean out the Christmas stockings. Can't wait.

Riding on an old mattress with my bro down the stairway.

On the back steps with a suitcase.

Sitting on the steps in the middle of the night, mom gets wheeled by, paramedics at her side... sleeping pills.

New set of stairs, temporary.

Cold, hospital steps... don't want to walk on them.

Back to cement steps, love the feeling on my feet.

Posing on the steps with our Zuchinni People.

Smooth, slate steps... new school, new kid.

New brother and sister hanging out on the steps, can hear the fighting still sometimes.

Sitting on the steps crying, don't want to say it, no one would believe it.

New set of stairs, temporary, back home again, things are okay.

Brick steps at highschool; boys, sex, cigarettes, rock-n-roll.

Wooden steps, a whole new start.

How come Lady didn't greet me on the steps today?

Running up the steps to show mom the ring.

Up the steps and into the church.

Our own stairs.

Up and down the stairs everyday, then one day with beloved.

One more stairway, with another beloved.

Sitting on the steps, watching beloved chase bubbles down the walkway.

Icy steps, mom fell.

Last new stairway, let's hope so.

Two sets of brown painted footprints up the steps.

Jumpin' down the steps on the blue beanbag.

Hiding under the steps playing hide-n-seek.

Picture on the steps, beloveds with Zuchinni People.

Makin' new stairways.


Blogger johngoldfine said...

Teachers will tell you that writing is supposed to be clear and communicate--that's an excellent default setting, but sometimes you can't do what you want to do and what you are able to do, if you worry about an audience (consider your audience is more great English teacher advice.) For my money, by ignoring your audience, by writing for you and from you and to you yourself (because only you know all the threads in these webs), you not only capture the audience much more than you would if you were conventionally clear, but you also compliment your audience enormously.

If I could and with your permission, I'd like very much to post this on my various websites--not as an example, because it isn't like anything else and doesn't represent something else--but just as itself. It gave me a big shiver and I want my students to see it, either with your name on it or as by anonymous. But all that's up to you. Let me know if I can do that.

September 2, 2004 at 8:46 PM  
Blogger xambr0siax said...

i really liked this blog. made me kind of sad, because some parts of it hit a little close to home. but i enjoyed it nonetheless. it reminded me of the part on "the Truman Show" where he finally found out that his entire life was staged. he walked up the stirway on the set adn there was nothing at the top....just a painted white wall that he bumped into like an invisible sheild. somthigs that is what life is like? you find out eventually that so much of it is fake adn made up and jsut not real, non exsistent. people hurt you adn lie to your face, and expect you to be fine wtih it, just ok. but it ISNT fair. why does everyone either hold grudges, or forgive to easily? why cant there ever be a happy medium?

January 30, 2006 at 12:24 AM  
Blogger RSF said...

This is an exceptional piece of art which I am glad I got to experience reading. I especially felt drawn in by everything being connected to the set of stairs where the events occurred. I was able to put myself into the physical position of being on the stairs which helped feel compassion for everything going on. Well done.

April 8, 2012 at 10:43 PM  

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