jillypoet: mom trying to write

Each day I wish I had invented waterproof sticky notes (for shower inspiration) or pen-friendly diapers to get down all my quirky thoughts that I am sure are relevant and publishable. And so God (actually another writer-mommy) sent me The Blog.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Random thoughts, words & lines that may someday work themselves into a poem

"I wish I'd been brave enough to ask him to waltz,/
but then Andrew is a sweet waltzer,/
and who knows if Jesus can dance."

from "asking for the bread" by Margaret Szumowski in the night of the lunar eclipse

For a month now, I have been finding scotch tape all over our house. On dressers, on chairs backs, on carpet, on doll heads, on my back, on my socks, on walls. It's as if my son is trying to piece our sometimes fragmented family back together.

When I was pregnant with my son, I shared with a neighbor that sometimes I had "visions," that things I thought about actually came to pass. She said, patting my stomach, "Oh honey, then your son will have it, too."

Today I read they found Jesus' tomb. There is talk that he had a child named Juda with Mary Magdalen.

"...He goes anywhere in perfect

anonymity. I notice him in the pensione, offer him bread
and chocolate with his coffee. He says, "I'm not dead,

remember? Invite me for a walk. Match make me
with Magdalen. Give me a kiss. A good one."

from "christ goes out into the world" also by Szumowski

When I told my son, Jude, that he may have the same name as Jesus' son, he said, "That's cool." Then I heard him mutter, "I don't like my name."

I had talk radio on during dinner and the woman was discussing the whole Christ had a girlfriend and a son issue. Being a very bright, inquisitive boy, Jude had many questions, and much talk of God & Jesus ensued. As I am not the best authority on all matters biblical, and daddy was at karate, I did the best I could.

What struck him the most was the fact that when Jesus comes back, it means we are in trouble and only the people who have been following God & Jesus will be going to Heaven. The rest of us, watch out. This, mind you, is my interpretation of Revelations and it could be very flawed. At any rate, the idea of being in trouble with Jesus and the world ending at any time was probably too much for my son. After asking me several times if I knew when the end was coming (one hour? one minute?), he said, "You don't have to listen to him. Jesus is a fake."

Also in the news today, a lunch lady saw the Virgin Mary in a cookie sheet.

Words from children's book Rain, Rain, Rain Forest by Brenda Guiberson that I like:

splitter, splat,
gushes, thrums,
slick waxy leaves,
squishy like a swamp
every crevice and cup
a slow journey, trickles to a stop
a bathing macaw
roar in a noisy chorus
sip water that drips from leaves
oozes poison

Somehow, somewhere in this collection of random, yet very connected thoughts, there is a poem. I will find it.

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Blogger deirdre said...

Ah, the book of Revelations. I was raised on it and never did understand. It's too frightening and confusing. It's much better to be a happy little heathen. :)

I'm going to look for jump-off lines today. You've inspired me.

10:03 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

of course there's a terrific poem in your musings (including most of the emails you send me). when you pull it out, be sure to include that you told jude about who shared his name and that he said he hated his name. that's wonderful!

AND what is it about scotch tape. Jack (same age as jude) is wild about it. taping everything up to the walls. to each other. to himself. i think it stopped only because we're out of scotch tape

1:11 PM  
Blogger jillypoet said...

How do you propose I turn this mulch into a pretty little poem? I am so out of my element, here. I really really really need to figure out how to write AFTER the writing. You know what I mean? i used to, way back when, write only when the muse struck. Now I am more disciplined, writing nearly every day, but I have lots of notes, lotsa of half finished pieces and it seems once they're downon paper, be it sticky notes, envelopes, or, it would seem, even on my computer screen, I don't go back to them. I have always hated leftovers. Maybe that's it... Not that you're leftovers, my dear, darling words...nononono! Mommy loves you, little wordies.

1:24 PM  
Blogger G said...

I haven't read these comments yet but I did read this post and I have to say that you are WARMING UP, Jill! Your writing is conditioning itself like an Olympic athlete, I can hear it in its flow. It hums. Not that you had a problem before. But this is great. Keep it up. It will hit you.

7:22 PM  

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