Erin McGee Ferrell: Все стихи автора

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Erin McGee Ferrell

Professionally a Visual Artist for over 30 years, I occasionally have poems that come to me. Please look at my paintings, ArtistAMERICAN.com, and understand that both the pen and the paintbrush do the same job. One I am a master of, the other...poetry...a novice. The past year I have dealt with Breast Cancer. My collection of works on this site reflect this unexpected and difficult journey. The Pirate Crew Paper Doll Collection is a Breast Cancer Educational Tool featuring Ms. Mastectomy, Ms. Chemotherapy, Ms. Radiation, Ms. Oophorectomy, and Ms. BRCA2. These works are dedicated to all who have walked in this path.

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Kicking Pillows

I have a pillow issue. These squares of various hues and textures bring me joy.

Others in my family mock my demand, flinging the arrangements on floor and behind couch, annoyed by such item, impractical in functionality by long torso-ed men.

by Erin McGee Ferrell

Transplanting Gardens

Yesterday I transplanted bits of my garden from NJ to MAINE.

HYDRANGEA, PEONY, BLACKBERRY VINE, CORAL BELLS, RHUBARB.

Dead looking bulbs come out of wet plastic bags that Lee and Camille lovingly packed.

Int. MAINE soil on a lovely warm November day.

Will these bulbs take root?

Will my clippings adapt and adopt this foreign strange soil?

Erin McGee Ferrell

Lopsided

My breasts are lopsided.

The silicone disks each doing its own thing.

The plastic surgeon was great and apparently at some point these gummy boobs settle.

I was going to show you a photo but then wondered if that would be porn.

But how are these things under my skin different than the steel plate in my wrist or my knee caps?

Interestingly, strange with a Frankenstein scar where a nipple should be. One breast an inch lower than the other. These pretenders are so funny.

by Erin McGee Ferrell

Night Grinding (TEETH)

My dental hygienist declares that I grind my teeth enamel - erosion and all that.

This news is strange to me.

Deep sleep and prolific dreamer - how would I know?

As my mind sorts and organises the day's information, my jaw responds as well, clenching as it processes my teenagers actions or a bill unpaid.

Molars clamping and shifting, thinking about tomorrow's to-do list; brain and jaw in sync.

Erin McGee Ferrell

The Good Student

I am the good student.

I take notes and get my homework turned in on time; uncomfortable with failure, abiding by the teacher's every suggestion.

It’s the same with being a patient.

There is no courage involved - only checking off the to-do list; the team of teachers, the different classrooms and topics and learning new vocabulary and research.

I find myself Desperate for the pat on the back of a job well done, striving for the “A+,” upon completion.

by Erin McGee Ferrell

SlowTime

Just Me.

Sleeping 10 hours.

Granola and coffee in silence.

Empty time for refuelling.

College Process, Foster Kid Drama, Audit.

Graduation All Over.

Erin McGee Ferrell

Kitten In Fridge

My son told me the kitten had been shut in the fridge.

Fortunately, Angus was still hungry, so he had reason to open the door.

Bottom shelf, the kitten sat.

I am glad teenagers eat often.

Erin McGee Ferrell

I Have Your SKIN

Two sheets of skin in my body are not mine.

Maybe from one person or two?

Donated willingly by a contract before death.

Today I am wondering about who this skin belonged to: Gender, race, age, occupation, personality and intelligence?

My healing now resurrecting the passed life in a new way, feeding your genes and merging with my cells. Aware that skin is just skin, my imagination runs with silly ideas about your traits becoming mine. To suddenly like football, eggplant, and fluency in Spanish....me becoming alien host.

Erin McGee Ferrell

Sitting In The Car After Cancer Surgery

Head Hurts.

Jaw Hurts.

My Sinuses Hurt.

My Brain Feels Tuned.

My Eyes Feel Tired.

My Emotions Are All Used Up.

Erin McGee Ferrell

An Iron, Wooden Bird And A Shoe

I don't iron.

I throw sorted clothes into the water and add a tide capsule, then transfer them to the dryer and add a Lavender Walmart scented sheet.

After the beep, I fold the towels and plop the bins of separated garments on to the kids beds, but I refuse to iron.

In the morning before the clock clicks on 8, I've figured out dinner and what still needs to be picked up at the grocery.

The school forms are filled out and the bills are paid, stamped and waiting in the mailbox. The dogs are fed and my teeth are brushed.

The days work toward career goals looms ahead and I plunge onward courageously but the iron doesn't turn on by my hands.

Erin McGee Ferrell

GREY

GREY.

A color I'm embracing.

A restful, welcome, pleasant and complimentary hue.

The walls of my Falmouth bedroom.

The colors of my new sweaters.

The color of the cocoon I will soon embrace.

Erin McGee Ferrell

BIRDS

Birds are present in the branches outside of my window.

The $10 Walmart bird-feeder bares testimony of function.

There is peace in knowing that I've had tangible influence for good in this new place.

The birds will be fat over this winter.

That might not have happened without me here.

Erin McGee Ferrell