About the author:

Anne E. Tremblay is a Renaissance woman: she writes fiction, poetry, sings and composes music, acts, directs and has done professional modeling.

For a printable version of these poems, click here.

Poems
By
Anne E. Tremblay

Illustrations by Pam Marin-Kingsley

                                                                                         Page 1

It used to be all romance
          And fairy-tale dream dust
                    And happy endings guaranteed.
Running headlong into other people's dreams.
Living for the "Big Picture".
Being the image
          And imagining life.

And then the mirror cracked.

And suddenly my carefully staged self-image faced me.
          Shattered.
                    Fragmented.
          Little pieces reflecting different parts.
                              But no whole.

And where did the fairy dust go?
It was only soot and ash.
          Stinging.
          Blinding.
Reality too bright after a life in sepia tones.
And the sun shone too harsh on schoolgirl meandering dreams.

The mirror cracked.

                    Or was it me?
          And the pieces,
Together.
                                        Apart.
Is that where the truth really is?

The mirror cracked.

And I began to breathe
          Dragging my innards behind me.
I turned to learn
          To see
                              What it might mean to live.

— Anne E. Tremblay

 

When First I bloomed

When first I bloomed
Petals tender pink
Fragile rare
Trembling scent
Delicate
Dancing bout your senses
Waiting at freshest brink
Did you notice?

When in time I blossomed
Full bodied
Glowing deep within
The primacy of being
Unfurled
Unleashed
Aching to be touched
Felt
Known
Did you realize?

When my colors faded
My spirits dried
Crumbling brown
Petal by petal
Curling in upon myself
My head bowed in surrender utter
Did you see me?
Would you touch me if you could?
If not to restore my long lost self
Then to honor my being
Once
In beauty
Now that I bloom
In memory only
When the wind blows gently through you
Misting your eyes
In forgotten whys?

— Anne E. Tremblay

 

Poem Call

There is a hunger in the moment
Ravenous desperation
To bleed upon the page
Re-member the thoughts tap-dancing
Echoing in grey matter
A butterfly hummingbird quick
Darting behind your day to day meanderings
Whispering thunder
That shakes
Your footsteps to its rhythm
Falling trance-like to its cadence
Watch them fall
Dropping
Landing
Staining the moment as history
Upon the page
Mirror back
The moment
Already gone.

— Anne E. Tremblay

Next Page>Poems 2

 

All poems © 2004 Anne E. Tremblay
Illustrations © 2004 Pam Marin-Kingsley

 

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