Marianne LaValle-Vincent

   Marianne LaValle-Vincent, a first generation Italian American, is a native of Syracuse, New York. She is a published poet, writer and humorist. She has won numerous literary contests and has achieved publication in such magazines asItaliana Americana, The Birmingham Review Poetry Motel, “Falling Star, 3 Cup Morning, and other special publications through SUNY. Her credits and awards also infiltrate the internet on such web sites as Real Eight View, Ascent, Underground Window, Dance with Words and Writers on Line. Her first full length poetry collection entitled American Lie is available in bookstores throughout the country. Coverings (a chapbook) is now available through Foothills Publishing. Marianne’s second full length poetry collection 313’s Child made its debut in July, 2005.

  Besides poetry, many of her short stories have been published—most recently “Understanding Dad” in Chicken Soup for the Soul—Fathers and Daughters edition. She was awarded a grant through Hill House Writers in Nashville, TN., and is invited frequently to lecture at local universities and libraries as well as making guest appearances on local radio and television shows.

  Marianne is the Poetry Editor for Szirine Magazine. She also volunteers as an assistant editor for The Rose and Thorn E-zine, and is a Copy Editor and feature writer for Moondance, a literary magazine supporting creative women.

  Marianne is an administrative RN who focuses on marketing for a large medical imaging corporation. She still lives in Syracuse with her husband, Tim and 14 year old daughter, Jess. Her greatest pleasure, after writing, is gourmet cooking for family and friends.

THE GARDENER

I cook while he

mows the lawn

cats watching from the

porch

inhaling the aroma

of the grass

as if it were hypnotic

 

he cuts perfect rows

almost like a portrait

intense and aware of his

mission

I bring him ice water

before he starts to prune

bushes that frame our

home

shaping them

like a sculptured fortress

raking the residue of his

labor

he stops to admire our

surroundings

pleased with his work

later we go for ice cream

and I rest my head on his

shoulder

he tells me tomorrow

the tomatoes will be ready

to pick

standing in the back yard

he inhales the beauty

of nature

looks at his calloused hands

and smiles

he will love me tonight

as if I were the earth

beneath him

and he will sleep, happy and content

in the fruit of my garden

 

 

BREAD

I make bread

while you love

her

not knowing what else to do

I punch the dough

a hundred times

till it is smooth

and dimple

free

I wait as it

rises

never thinking it could

fall

it bakes

to perfection

the aroma

intoxicates

and comforts

at night when you return

I will smell only the

bread

and not the odor of

infidelity

and you will feast on the

loaves

instead of me

  

MELTED DREAMS

 

he asks me if I remember

a time when we loved

my mind goes back to

1973

riding in a bright orange

dodge duster

flying over railroad tracks

not a care in the world

hot summer nights

on a cool water bed

hiding from my father

and eating chocolate

melted over bananas

the smell of marijuana

lingering in the air

 

laughing and singing

songs by Karen Carpenter

and Barry Manilow

while we talked of our

future

on a cot in his basement

I played with his hair

he played me

walks in the rain

and loving him

every morning

I tell him it was a lifetime

ago

no—I don’t remember

 

later, I play a Carpenter song

and fall asleep

it is 1973

and I am in love