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Below is the poem entitled Fractured which was written by poet julie heckman. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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My grandfather on my father’s side, was a pecker-toothed sidle who raped his 
daughter when she was just ten. He threw down vodka from an eternal well and took my father out to buy prostitutes when he was just fifteen... It was here that my father first learned the true value of a woman. Mercifully, a permanent steel brace got loose at the Pennsylvania steel mill where he worked and crushed Grandfather into a pool of blood and urine.
     My father was a dried seed rattling in an empty gourd… he had grown up 
hardened with leather-stiff roots exposed too long in the sun. My mother knew 
that he wanted to rape me, so I kept guard with knives and ran away whenever I could. I went to bed fantasizing how to sneak into his bedroom and kill him with 
the kitchen carving knife. 
      My older brother hadn’t adjusted well to the chaos either, so he put all his expectations and dreams into a matchbook and burned down three houses in the neighborhood. He secretly, robbed his friends of their valuable coin collections. He grew weary and confessed and was taken to a local Mental Hospital for evaluation. At fourteen, I needed a good stiff drink! I was transferred to two different foster care homes and grew up like a weed.
     My mother Dolly was an auburn haired porcelain bisque, matt finished doll from a
discriminating collections of dolls... her father's dolls. She was not a witty woman 
but silent, afraid and alone. She gave birth to three children who grew up like 
wild dogs while Dolly made Betty Crocker weekends and otherwise TV dinners 
until she grew tired... very tired.
      One day the brothers were playing with Dolly tossing her back and forth… 
like a ball, one to another... until we dropped her. Fragile, she shattered into pieces 
on the gray cement patio. My father came out determined to put the pieces back 
together but clumsily, he repeatedly stepped on Dolly crushing the refined 
fragments into powdered dust.

Copyright © julie heckman

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  1. Date: 2/26/2011 10:34:00 AM
    Story well told with great poetic qualities..If this was your life, I feel for you..All my emotions go forth onto the air to bring joy, comfort, and consoling..We in America just don't know how many families live this each day.Then there is in the home where it is the subtle constant mental and emotional wounding that kills a person each day...Sara

  1. Date: 2/25/2011 1:15:00 PM
    This goes to my favorite

  1. Date: 2/25/2011 12:53:00 PM
    Very very sad and engaging tale of the family.. as you say, can we call it a family?Some memories are sweet and some bitter, but to recollect them in tranquility makes us clear on many fronts, julie.

  1. Date: 2/25/2011 12:32:00 PM
    From the secret vaults of childhood come many a horror, some lock them away and have emotional scars forever, then some remember, and promise never again.....gaining courage to fight to the end......awesome write as it gives insight to what some have lived through, and lived to tell it, awesome author, this needs to be in a book.....