The eyes are so familiar
the nose
the mouth
the chin
staring back
the one they think I am
the one I want to be
but a longer look
deeper into the stare
there is another
one only I recognize
there
caught in the reflection
revealed
my other self
inner self
the one I truly am
the dark one
the pretender
the imposter
born in another place
born with another name
in another reality
I was an “undesired”
an inconvenient child
I was labeled — MISTAKE!
misbegotten
unfortunate
a problem
ultimately
to be left behind
alone
abandoned
in a cold metal orphanage crib
in a big
sparse
cold room
overseen
by strange
grey-habit’d
amorphous figures
nuns!
I had been tried
convicted
and sentenced
for my early life
to know confusion
know shame
know the sorrow
of the unwanted
and through my early years
I did not understand
I struggled
felt so alienated
felt condemned
guilty only
of the crime
of inconvenience
someone else’s
inconvenience
but that is yet another life
another story
that will finally include a hero
that will eventually resolve
now
I’m just tryin’ to get by
so I shudder
break my stare
now a brief tug of insecurity
a twinge of fear
hoping that my guise holds fast
that I’m not found out
my imperfection
my duality
this masquerade
I blink wide my eyes
and check my teeth
lift my paw
to stroke my fur
making certain my “mask” is tight
best face forward
always
a final glance
I purr away the doubt
*
rob kistner © 2022
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
Dear Rob, the reality .. the rawness .. the gut-wrenching honesty of this poetry will stay with me …….. beautifully composed.
Thank you Helen. We all have our “other, sides, mine just remains vivid in my mind.
Such a sad journey, the one of feeling unwanted. I am glad this resolved, that growth included a hero. I resonate with the cat looking into the mirror – the duality of the outer and inner self, “the one I truly am.” A profound poem, Rob.
Thank you Sherry. It is behind me, but still has resonance, and provides me some rich poetry fodder.
This one is stirring to the heart. You are right we all do have our other sides. Wishing you a good weekend Rob.
Pleased it resonated for you Carrie… 🙂
It’s none of my business, but is this a true story? Your true story?
Yes / Yes
I would imagine your first mom has a lifetime of pain that she carries around. I can’t imagine the loss she must have felt all these years. She probably wanted to give you a better life than her as a mom. She probably lived with a world of mental illness and addiction that made her feel unfit. No child is unworthy or a mistake. You were not a mistake. Whoever you are, you are beautiful and a gift to this world. Claim truth; do not indulge in lies. You are purposefully and artfully made, just as you are.
Thank you for your romantic vision Shawna, but my daughter got the facts last year, detailing what was done to me by the two asshats that were “rutting” carelessly outside of the bonds of the man’s marriage — without a thought what impact it would have on the innocent bastard child they produced. I was born to an unmarried woman and a married man. The man already had children, so they put me in a home for unwed mother, and the man had my info sealed by the Catholic church, so I could never get my heritage information. I tried unsuccessfully a number of times over the years. The man later divorced his first wife, and married my birth mother. Together he and my birth mother had 6 more legitimate children, no more put up for adoption. So, I am the first-born, and oldest of 7 children — and the only one abandoned as a bastard. My daughter from my first marriage, finally got the information for me last year through a relative on her mother’s side, who was part of Catholic Charities. Some of my natural younger siblings are still living, 1 brother and 2 sisters, and a number of 1st and 2nd generations of off-spring of my 6 blood bothers and sisters. I have no interest in ever contacting any of them at this point. None of the many of them ever, in the 75 years of my moderately high profile life, ever tried to contact me — and I am not interested in digging up, what would be more pain for me. What hurts most is that my natural mother never gave me a second thought, after she ditched me, her oldest child, because I was apparently an inconvenience to her life. Made my early life real hell, the full story I won’t go into here. My adoptive father ultimately became a hero for me, and My life ginally got on track — but lots of scars remained for years. Some still anger me — so Fuck’em’all! But I appreciate your sweet idea of how the situation might have been for me. 🙂
I’m so sorry, Rob. How beautiful of you to share all of this raw pain with me/us. I will be praying for your heart on all levels.
Thank you Shawna. I like, all the rest of us, a work in progress. We all just need to keep doing the work, with our minds and hearts open — as I see it my friend.
That poem hit home.
My mother used that sentence at least once each and every day: “You shouldn’t have been born.”
Well, I was. She kept hitting me with words, with wooden flip flops, with everything she laid her hands on.
7 years later my sister was born. Turned out to be a half sister, as het bloodtype couldn’t have come from my dad. She was adored, pampered, loved.
I have often thought she wasn’t my mother. There was a secret in the family. My dad was my dad… but was my mom the english “aunty?”? There is some faint notion of an older brother. I will never know.
When I was 15 someone told my mother that kids would start to hit back, so she wanted to have a talk… The huge begging for forgiveness. I told her it was her problem.. not mine, And decided not to be put down by such a childhood.
But the feeling of not being good enough pops up at unexpected moments.
Best face forwards….always….
Sorry for the shit you went through Syl — but you and I survived, so I guess we have the last laugh. I guess what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?! And yes, best face forward, always.
“guilty only
of the crime
of inconvenience”
Dear Rob the more i read your poems the more i see you as a hero. A star born to shine, certainly no mistake in God’s plan.
much love…
Thank you Gillena. I am not so much a hero, as an aware survivor, figuring it out as I go, and trying to apply graciously what I hold to be “real” to me at any point in time. If that is heroic, then that is a positive by product of being true to my ever-evolving experience of people, and this world. Much love to you my friend. 🙂
I enjoyed reading this narrative and especially the final line: “I purr away the doubt.” Love your description of those nuns too! 😀
Thank you Sanaa! 😉
Such pain inflicted – heartbreaking to read this Rob. If ever a hero was needed…
One came to my rescue Marion…