I Promise to Write Every Day
Because my blog has been a long time alone, because I feel guilty, not only for choosing dust bunnies over my children today, but for chossing dust bunnies over my writing, I have made a New Month Resolution. Well, it's almost a new month, almost windy, windy March, so what better time to let the winds of change sweep over my blog, over my writing life!
So, to get back into the swing of things, to crawl that much closer to my goal of sending out a manuscript this year (hey, who knew that was my goal for the year? Writing really works!), I am going to try to write daily on my blog. I have every intention of writing from the daily prompts in A Writer's Book of Days by Judy Reeves. We shall see. Please feel free to join me on my quest for writing nirvana.
Today's prompt is: Once, in the midst of all the recklessness...
Domestic Dispute
Once, in the midst of all the recklessness
I took the tiny clothes of all the Barbies
and lined them up along the window sill
for all the neighbors to see.
The man with the pugs wanted to know
when the garage sale started.
The man with the young daughter wondered
how much for the blond on the far left,
his daughter wants a doll.
My husband came home after leaving for milk.
He was really just running away. A woman with a gun,
even a glue gun, even a camera, or a handful
of miniature miniskirts can scare a man.
So here he comes with the milk and a Snickers bar,
but he is not snickering because he knows better
and I say, Which Barbie do I look like?
My husband has not come home in three days.
The milk soaked into the carpet has turned
to crust and odor. The Barbies are fading into
the white sill, the babies are hungry.
We are all losing our hair, blonde tufts
falling out in fistfuls, when we remember
to reach up, to pull.
The sun is pale in the sky,
the peonies have lost their pink.
In the midst of all the recklessness,
I wish I had not told my husband to go to Hell.
So, to get back into the swing of things, to crawl that much closer to my goal of sending out a manuscript this year (hey, who knew that was my goal for the year? Writing really works!), I am going to try to write daily on my blog. I have every intention of writing from the daily prompts in A Writer's Book of Days by Judy Reeves. We shall see. Please feel free to join me on my quest for writing nirvana.
Today's prompt is: Once, in the midst of all the recklessness...
Domestic Dispute
Once, in the midst of all the recklessness
I took the tiny clothes of all the Barbies
and lined them up along the window sill
for all the neighbors to see.
The man with the pugs wanted to know
when the garage sale started.
The man with the young daughter wondered
how much for the blond on the far left,
his daughter wants a doll.
My husband came home after leaving for milk.
He was really just running away. A woman with a gun,
even a glue gun, even a camera, or a handful
of miniature miniskirts can scare a man.
So here he comes with the milk and a Snickers bar,
but he is not snickering because he knows better
and I say, Which Barbie do I look like?
My husband has not come home in three days.
The milk soaked into the carpet has turned
to crust and odor. The Barbies are fading into
the white sill, the babies are hungry.
We are all losing our hair, blonde tufts
falling out in fistfuls, when we remember
to reach up, to pull.
The sun is pale in the sky,
the peonies have lost their pink.
In the midst of all the recklessness,
I wish I had not told my husband to go to Hell.
7 Comments:
This is great, jilly. I like the order implied in the (crazy) organization of the Barbie stuff -- cool images, and great last line. *smile*
Maybe I'll try to join you in the writing every day thing. Sounds good on paper! (get it? on paper? good, yes? -no? okay.)
It's WAY past my bedtime. Forgive me.
Ooooh, I like this piece. Great title--the first two stanzas are intriguing.
If I can send out a manuscript, so can you.
Let the dustbunnies sit for a while. And the kids can sit, too!
April is the only month of the year I try to write poems every day. Good luck to you. I'm here for support.
(If you still want to read my manuscript, I'll send it to you later today.)
Haha! On paper. That's past-your-bedtime-humor, right? We shall see. I wrote today because I had a writing group, but in my infinite wisdom, I am not going to count it, only writing from my Writer's Book of Days will count. Or maybe only writing on my blog will count. Hmm...
Thanks for your comments! Jan, send me your manuscript, I'd love to read it, and if you like, I will comment. However, since it's already out there, I'm not sure how much help I can be.
And guys, do you ever daydream of having a place to go and write write read and write for a whole day? That's where I am today...(wishing, not actually there!)
i love your new goal to write from that book every day. i need to make a commitment to myself about something. and i need to stick to it. maybe you've inspired me once again.
and so that your/our writing group exercises count toward your goal, why not add the prompt from that day's book entry into the options for prompts at the group? just a thought. as mothers we must maximize our time!
this poem really moves. it goes zero to 60 in just a few stanzas! and that's a compliment. the row of naked barbies is powerful, especially how everyone inquires about them. and i love how we find out the milk is dumped all over the floor.
since i know you're always open to comment/critique, the only line that seemed out of place was the last one: "i wish i never told my husband to go to hell." i could be wrong. and it's not a bad thing that the last line stands apart from the rest. something about it seemed not as strong as what precedes it. is it cliche? is there a more dramatic way to say it? i'm full of questions, no answers.
i know part of it. it's blunt and the rest of it is suggestive. that may be its strength, right? i am all over the place here. sorry!
Witchy, it's not just our hair that's in sync! I was unsure of the last line, too. On the one hand, I like it because it suggests anger, and it hints at where the husband has gone, why he hasn't returned. On the other hand, I don't swear in my poetry, so it's a bit uncomfortable, and yes, a bit different than the rest of the poem. Really, I think I meant it as the answer to where the husband has gone. Thanks for the feedback! Always appreciated. PS: Glad to have you on board the S.S. I Promise To Write Every Day. Hmm.. wonder where the Gilligan's Island reference came from?
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