I've been tagged by Julia to 'fess up and say five things that are weird about me. It's just a fun little game, so why am I feeling all self-conscious? My first impulse is, no way. But I love Julia, so I should play, shouldn't I? More than that, I should want to, right? Weird. So that's #1 on my weird list.
2. I live in the suburbs, drive a van, organize carpool, and probably look like a very ordinary soccer mom. But I'm a poet whose heart is in the wild somewhere, who dreams of solitude and silence and love, surrounded by acres and acres of woods.
3. I was named for my great-grandmother, who by all accounts "never said anything bad about anyone." For a long time I thought she was a saint whose name I couldn't possibly live up to; now I've decided she was just a human, like me, who had her opinions but didn't feel the need to spread them around. That I can respect; that I would like to live up to.
4. I have an affinity for old men. I love being friends with them, love hearing their stories, love who I am when I am with them.
5. I think yes is the scariest word in the English language. Which makes it my favorite.
Today, write something weird for you, something out of your comfort zone. And if you're feeling really brave, post it here. (Mary and Anna, I'd love to hear from you.)
Hmmm ... I'm working on something ... will post it later. :-)ReplyDelete
PS - I love old men, too!
Sorry to put you on the spot Irene - but I enjoyed learning from your weird list. Love you too!ReplyDelete
Anna - so glad to hear you're with me on the old men. :) Looking forward to whatever you're writing. And Julia, sometimes it's good to be put on the spot. You know? So thanks. And I am with you on not liking to answer the phone. What's up with that??ReplyDelete
A very rough-draft attempt at trying something very outside my comfort zone: sharing a "poem" with virtual strangers. :-)ReplyDelete
I woke up one morning and decided to leave.
Just like that.
You never stirred from your mouth-open, head-covered slumber.
I grabbed my coat and walked barefoot into the wet grass,
Shedding twenty years of doing-the-right-thing
By the time I reached the gravel road.
I never looked back.
I imagine people made up reasons –
Another man, a bad childhood, white trash raisin’.
I imagine the church came by to pray for you,
(and to see if I left the house in a mess).
I imagine your vacant stare as you mumble answers
to pious questions meant to root out my sins,
all the while looking out the window,
at my muddy bare footprints.
But the truth?
Who could imagine the truth?
I got tired of trying to be good.
Good Christ I was free!
Naked and unashamed.
And you – I know you.
So innocent, so effortlessly pure –
You couldn’t even muster anger or blame,
You wouldn’t satisfy me with punishment.
You just blamed it on menopause.
a very EXCELLENT rough draft! So much to love here -- very honest and brave. I love "shedding twenty years of doing-the-right-thing." I love the second stanza entirely, particularly the "I imagine the church came by to pray for you (and to see if I left the house a mess). Love the speaker, all strong and free, how the poem points to one of life's truths, that people see what they want to see, and often times, it's easier not to see at all.ReplyDelete
Way to go, Anna! I want this for Birmingham Arts Journal. Let me know.
Wow ... I don't know what to say! First of all, thank you. You made my day with this total surprise.ReplyDelete
As for the rest, I'm not sure how to revise this ... or title it ... if you really would want to include in BAJ. Help?
Anna, would you send this poem to my email address? We can work on it from there. And it is totally my pleasure -- I love the treasure hunt for good work, esp. when I find gold! :)ReplyDelete
I'll do that (already made some revisions) ... and thanks again. :-)ReplyDelete
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