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.

Friday, April 20, 2007

Teaching My Son Honor

I am continually surprised at how much this VT tragedy is affecting me (is it effecting? I, a poet, with a master's degree, am never clear on this one!) Here is my 11th poem of National Poetry Month. I have been trying my best to write a poem a day. Do poems in my head count?


Teaching Jude to Honor

Sent my son to school
in maroon shirt
orange vest.
He does not know
he is honoring the dead
he has never known.
Send myself to school
in maroon and orange,
my honor disguised in flowers
and crystal beads.
What if a crazy man opts
to shoot everyone in maroon today?
This is what we are left with.
Fear of dressing.
I seal the popcorn snack
with extra ziplocs.
My son will have a moment
of silence at noon
and no crazy man will know.

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4 Comments:

Blogger Poet with a Day Job said...

This is a moving poem, and very well done. There's something really haunting to me about the extra ziploc bags esp. after the line "fear of dressing." In a sense the ziplocing is an attempt at safety: we do not know if a crazy man will come shoot everyone today, but at least this: my son's popcorn will be secure, and fresh. It's just really, a standout image placed in there about our own helplessness, and what things we can control.

Anyway, I think the a/effect could be used either way in this instance. I think. I have the same problem with it. And yes: poems in your head count. I hope you get them down eventually though so I can read them!

12:27 PM  
Blogger January said...

I think the poems in you head definitely count. One day, you'll be able to use them when you're ready.

I agree with PWADJ, "fear of dressing" is a great line, so unexpected, the things we can't control. You can't see a tragedy like VA Tech and not be affected. This is a really good poem.

4:34 PM  
Blogger Angie said...

Very cool, Jill. I like imagining a little guy trying to get his ziplocs open and having his moment of silence. That's as innocent as it gets.

It's really difficult to write about fear and it effect.

I'm pretty sure it's affecting, so you've used it correctly. I usually think of affect as a verb and effect as a noun, just to keep things easy. :P

5:34 PM  
Blogger Angie said...

Um, its effects.

yeah.

5:34 PM  

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