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He looked so queer sitting up on that stool with an apple in his hand, having not bitten into it yet. He was pale and there was a ribbon around his neck; I wanted that apple and that ribbon too, to tie back my hair. It was a yellow ribbon, reminded me of a honey bee and that apple was so red compared to his pale fingers.
“Little brother, give me that apple you have there.” He didn’t answer, his eyes were closed and it seemed all the blood that should have been in his body and drained from him and gone into the apple.
“Little brother,” I said again, “give me that apple you have there. I would very much like a bite.” He didn’t even open his eyes to look at me but just sat there, so queer and still on that stool in front of the door. Mother was making dinner and it was quiet, but I could hear her crying, and the water boiling.
I went into the kitchen where she was chopping onions, preparing a soup. There was blood on her apron. There must be mean in the soup tonight, I thought.
“Mother,” I said, “little brother won’t give me any of his apple and I would very much like a yellow ribbon like his, like the one tied around his neck.”
“Margery,” she said, “ask him one more time for the apple, if he doesn’t answer, box him in the ear. Then, tell him to give you that yellow ribbon for ignoring you.”
I went back to little brother, my patent leather shoes clicking on the wooden floor and it was quiet except for my shoes and mother crying and the water boiling.
“Little brother,” I said one last time, “give me a bite of that apple.” There was silence. “Little brother…” There was only more silence and mother crying and the water boiling. I did as she told me to, boxed him in the ear, but there wasn’t any resistance. His head just rolled onto the ground and his pale hand still held that apple. I began to scream but stopped when I noticed the ribbon had fallen to the floor. I screamed and mother came running. “It’s okay,” she said, “what’s done is done. It’s alright.” She picked up the yellow ribbon and tied it in my hair. I was screaming. “It’s alright now little Margery, It’s alright.”
“Little brother, give me that apple you have there.” He didn’t answer, his eyes were closed and it seemed all the blood that should have been in his body and drained from him and gone into the apple.
“Little brother,” I said again, “give me that apple you have there. I would very much like a bite.” He didn’t even open his eyes to look at me but just sat there, so queer and still on that stool in front of the door. Mother was making dinner and it was quiet, but I could hear her crying, and the water boiling.
I went into the kitchen where she was chopping onions, preparing a soup. There was blood on her apron. There must be mean in the soup tonight, I thought.
“Mother,” I said, “little brother won’t give me any of his apple and I would very much like a yellow ribbon like his, like the one tied around his neck.”
“Margery,” she said, “ask him one more time for the apple, if he doesn’t answer, box him in the ear. Then, tell him to give you that yellow ribbon for ignoring you.”
I went back to little brother, my patent leather shoes clicking on the wooden floor and it was quiet except for my shoes and mother crying and the water boiling.
“Little brother,” I said one last time, “give me a bite of that apple.” There was silence. “Little brother…” There was only more silence and mother crying and the water boiling. I did as she told me to, boxed him in the ear, but there wasn’t any resistance. His head just rolled onto the ground and his pale hand still held that apple. I began to scream but stopped when I noticed the ribbon had fallen to the floor. I screamed and mother came running. “It’s okay,” she said, “what’s done is done. It’s alright.” She picked up the yellow ribbon and tied it in my hair. I was screaming. “It’s alright now little Margery, It’s alright.”
Literature
Loss, in Five Acts
i. Return
Through a dark tunnel
of bent birch and cedar I walk.
Soft moss on cobblestone. Home.
The tilted bird bath drips with
tea coloured rain. Vines snake up
old walls even as the sandstone crumbles.
Decaying gutters sag with sad, welcoming
smiles, heavy with dead leaves
and the fallout of terracotta tiles.
ii. Memory
On her lap, in the evening, swinging
on the front porch chair. Humming
a lullaby, she whispers softly and
marks with a brush of her ringless finger,
magpie and minor, chicken and hen
and then, soft kisses on my cheek for bed.
At the bus stop, she is squinting and waving
and waiting. At hometime, she i
Literature
Tanka Series 10
1.
the shift
of sparrows mid-flight
again
she tells me
it meant nothing
2.
autumn arrives
less subtle
than last year
the time it takes my father
to stand up
3.
long distance love
ending badly
I return
my phone plan
to the cheaper rate
4.
Nana's new husband
out of nowhere!
a swallowtail
floats
through the open door
5.
autumn clouds
hunched
over email chat
I critique a friend's poem
on wildflowers
6.
dead dog
by the roadside
belly up...
I wonder if he too
became a Buddha
7.
family in bed
after another long day
I linger
for my muse
with a bowl of hot miso
8.
early autumn
a pumpkin patch
newly ripe
I
Literature
quacking jokes
three ducks explode
into laughter:
private joke
Suggested Collections
This isn't really a children's piece.
After reading the brothers grimm story "The Juniper Tree," the assignment was to write one moment in the story in first person.
I did from the point of view of sister Margery when she thinks she knocked off her little brother's head.
here is a synopsis from wikipedia because i am a lazy bum:
A woman wishes for a child as red as blood and as white as snow, gives birth to a son, and dies. Her husband grieves, and married again. His second wife gave birth to a daughter, Margery, but was jealous of the son. One day, she tricks the boy into reaching into a great chest, and slams its heavy lid on him, knocking his head off. She then arranges the child as if still living, and tricks Marlinchen into boxing his ear, leading her to believe that she had killed him. She reassured Margery and turns the boy's body into black puddings.
The father eats the puddings, but Margery takes up the bones and buries them beneath a juniper tree. A bird flies out of the tree. It goes and sings a song to a goldsmith, who gives it a golden chain, to a shoemaker, who gives it a pair of red shoes, and to millers, who give it a millstone. It then flies back home and sings its song. The father goes out and the golden chain falls about his neck. It sings again, Margery goes out, and the red shoes fall to her. It sings a third time, the stepmother goes out, and the bird drops the millstone on her, crushing her.
The bird is transformed back into the brother, and they all go back inside.
the brothers grimm is mad fucked up.
it's sort of my new favorite thing.
january 16, 2007
draft 1
After reading the brothers grimm story "The Juniper Tree," the assignment was to write one moment in the story in first person.
I did from the point of view of sister Margery when she thinks she knocked off her little brother's head.
here is a synopsis from wikipedia because i am a lazy bum:
A woman wishes for a child as red as blood and as white as snow, gives birth to a son, and dies. Her husband grieves, and married again. His second wife gave birth to a daughter, Margery, but was jealous of the son. One day, she tricks the boy into reaching into a great chest, and slams its heavy lid on him, knocking his head off. She then arranges the child as if still living, and tricks Marlinchen into boxing his ear, leading her to believe that she had killed him. She reassured Margery and turns the boy's body into black puddings.
The father eats the puddings, but Margery takes up the bones and buries them beneath a juniper tree. A bird flies out of the tree. It goes and sings a song to a goldsmith, who gives it a golden chain, to a shoemaker, who gives it a pair of red shoes, and to millers, who give it a millstone. It then flies back home and sings its song. The father goes out and the golden chain falls about his neck. It sings again, Margery goes out, and the red shoes fall to her. It sings a third time, the stepmother goes out, and the bird drops the millstone on her, crushing her.
The bird is transformed back into the brother, and they all go back inside.
the brothers grimm is mad fucked up.
it's sort of my new favorite thing.
january 16, 2007
draft 1
© 2007 - 2024 MGBarrera
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