Books, Stories, Poems
Explore Glenda’s writing.
Eve’s Garden is the story of three generations of Romani-American women living in rural Georgia. Each generation survives tragedies, and each finds love in unexpected places.
A book of poetry by Glenda focusing on family, work, and history in the Carolina upcountry. Ever wonder how she got from there to here? This book gives a bit of the whys and how’s. It features poems about her grandmothers of Roma, Cherokee, and Scottish ethnicity and a lot about being a girl where girls have an uphill climb.
A contract is in the works for a full-length book of Glenda’s poetry, including her skat poem, Mountain Girls Play Jazz; the well-loved “Daughter, this is your womb” poem; and a new favorite, “A Gypsy (Roma!) Poet Walks into a Coffeeshop,” and much more.
Questioning the suspects
Watching the video for the thousandth time,
to see if you hesitated, even for a second,
I ask, Tell me, how does one become a weapon?
How arcs a human like a speeding plane,
beyond flesh, but not beyond sound, outpacing
fear, desire, the upraised palm of compassion?
Were your hands steady on the controls?
Did you cry out in ecstasy, or in pain?
Feeling the impact like bones sucked clean
was there an instant of wonder?
Was your mother in your thoughts?
(They say the dying always cry out for their mothers)
Or were you thinking of the mother behind you,
how she clutched her child to her chest
as you would clasp a bomb?
And your own mother, did she spend the day watching the sky,
waiting for word of your certain death?
Or did she cook all day, lips tightened against the memory
of your head cradled against her chest?
Perhaps her thoughts were bent on those still around her table?
That night, did she suckle you in her dreams,
and did you turn into a tiger at her breast?
Where were you then––not before,
tasting a last sweet syrup of coffee, nor later
in your version of heaven, but then,
at that first second of hereafter?
Did you see what you expected to see?
Was the One who caught you
cloaked in anger
or in tears?
The above poem was originally published on Sam Hamill’s Poets Against the War site, but it has since been copied and made its way around the world. I hear you give it freely, but I do ask that you attribute it to me.