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.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

It's almost wedding season

Well, when I first read PoeTry ThuRsday's prompt for the week, I thought, hmm...not for me. I don't think I've ever read a conversation poem. I've written poems in voices, one voice, and even poems for two voices (Ralph Fleischer). Then I thought maybe I'd better do it. I've been gone from PT for far too long. Then, I thought, ah well, maybe just some other poem.

But then! Then I went to my first therapy session in years. That's as "bloggy" as I'll get about that subject! So, as I was saying, But then! I had a poem idea. A conversation popped right up onto my computer screen. At least it wasn't in my head!

Let's see if blogger will let me post it from Word with tabs. Oh. Not well. Not well at all. I just don't have the patience for HTML--or the skill. The thing is, I really like these two poems next to each other, one left justified, one tabbed over. So, I will post the complete poems following. No crazy spaces or funky spacing, just so you can read them separately. Bear with me. I worked on this HTML for an hour!

On the Occasion of The Wife’s Eighth Wedding Anniversary: A Conversation


Drag them to the altar,                     Isn’t there anyone to stop
your feet, cemented in suede           me? Friend, mother, lover?
pumps, poised to jump                                   Read the script. You are cordially invited
through the hoops of marriage,                 to maul the mailman. Just jump the guy
scurry through the whale bone                  take back the invitations
.
of ivory crinolin.                                              Hunt down the bluejays
If you can’t wait to wrap                      making love in the bushes,
your young frame in gingham,               humping through the air.
draw the apron strings tight                   Give them a room far from my
you have been worshipping                   watery eyes. We are all doomed
at the wrong altar,                                     to drown in our sorrows one way
you missed your stop,                            or another. While you are out there

missed your cue, missed the point.       rustle up the dressmaker
Mark my words bride,                         rip your bodice from his hands
you will miss the Miss.                   stain his fingers with the sweet cherry
                                                      of a fine cigar. Bring me the butt. 
 
 
On the Occassion of the Wife's Eighth Wedding Anniversary
 
Drag them to the altar,                       
your feet, cemented in suede
pumps, poised to jump
through the hoops of marriage,
scurry through the whale bone
of ivory crinolin.
If you can’t wait to wrap
your young frame in gingham,
draw the apron strings tight,
you have been worshipping
at the wrong altar. You missed your stop
missed your cue, missed the point.
Mark my words bride,
you will miss the Miss.
 
 
Miss: In Reply
 
Isn’t there anyone to stop
me? Friend, mother, lover?
Read the script. 
You are cordially invited
to maul the mailman. Just jump the guy
take back the invitations.
Hunt down the bluejays
making love in the bushes,
humping through the air.
Give them a room far from my
watery eyes. We are all doomed
to drown in our sorrows one way
or another. While you are out there
rustle up the dressmaker.
Rip your bodice from his hands,
stain his fingers with the sweet cherry
of a fine cigar. Bring me the butt.

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10 Comments:

Blogger paris parfait said...

I love this and wish I'd read it at age 19, when I made my first trip down the altar. It lasted three months, because my instincts knew it was the wrong guy. A week before the wedding, when trying on my dress I looked at my mom and said, "You know, I really don't want to ger married." To her credit, she said, "It's not too late to change your mind." But I worried that the invitations were out, people were coming from across the country and dismissed my concerns as "pre-wedding jitters," when in fact, my sub-conscious was urging me to stop in my tracks and reverse course.

8:15 AM  
Blogger pepektheassassin said...

I am so glad to see you back! I've missed you. Loved your poems, especially the way you aligned them side by side. Very effective!

10:46 AM  
Blogger jim said...

I really like how you allow each speaker to have a full-bodied and developed voice--they are distinct, and are at such cross purposes (and here the side by side alignment works brilliantly, as the reader sees how the lines are joined and not joined).

What a tremendous performance.

1:02 PM  
Blogger gautami tripathy said...

I never saw anything like this. This is so beautifully done. The two voives side by side do not seem out of place at all.

1:18 PM  
Blogger bookbinds said...

I really liked the different perspectives of the same experience, always nice to see how the same scene can be viewed from so many different angles.

1:37 PM  
Blogger wendy said...

Maul the mailman. Enough said.

I have a very young friend getting married in a month. Her invatation arrived yesterday.

I've kept my lips a very tightly closed grin. I could tell her. But she wouldn't believe me. How could she. She is just worried about her last fitting.

My advise..not to tight..you still have to breath.

3:50 PM  
Blogger chicklegirl said...

This was so clever, so true, and the visual side-by-side really worked (HTML is a harsh mistress, but you did just fine!)

6:25 PM  
Blogger Crafty Green Poet said...

excellent! The two poems work so well side by side, the two perspectives. Too many people rush into marriage too young, very glad I didn't!

4:02 AM  
Blogger Tammy said...

I enjoyed each separately and together...very clever! They brought back my first wedding.

11:22 AM  
Blogger Dan Wilcox said...

More, please, it's been over a month already.
DWx

3:51 PM  

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