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.

Monday, April 07, 2008

NaPoWriMo #7

Beautiful Objects, Out of Reach

The chandelier you can not draw without erasing
a hole in the center of lightbulb number two.

The tiniest frog in the bay.
Small is not always easy.

The glossy black water snake
slipping between thick strands of milfoil.

Heaven.

The memory of your first fish,
the simple quick tug. Then nothing.

The top of the mountain. There is always further
to go. The top of the last pine, for instance.

Heaven.
Even the gate.

The glorious heft of your father's shoulder
when you were three and he, half of now.

If you are lost, the key. If found,
the map with a red line leading away from home.

Heaven.
I hear it is beautiful.


**********************************************


Today was a tough day, poetry-wise. I had many starts in my head, all tossed aside. Even a couple starts in the journal. Also tossed. Thought about posting something I wrote a coulpe weeks ago, still rough, but decided against it. Went for new. Glad I did. My mental muscles thank me.

Tomorrow my dad goes to the dr. to discuss possibilty of surgery for aneuryism. Talking to my mother last night, I had a brief moment of clarity--this is serious. The man has to decide his fate. I know our fate is ultimately in God's hands. I know. But they will be asking him to make a decision. It was all so clear for a moment, as if my mother was sending me a message. Then, just as quickly as the fog lifted, it settled back in. My make-it-all-better cloud settled in and I resumed thinking, well, he will just say no thanks. Don't cut me open and I will go on living. As if the time-bomb couldn't go off at any moment. And it could. But I csn't think of it.

Why mention all this? Well, for one thing, it's my blog! Ha. And for another, I think this is why I am having trouble writing today. I have never been one to write during times of crisis or unrest. I write for the beauty of words and the images and to create a word picture. For all that I write, not for catharsis or for meaning or for answers. So when I have this "thing" looming that is heavy and awful and demands answers, my muse says, sorry, dude. Not my problem. Thus, the list poem.

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7 Comments:

Blogger Shelley said...

Completely and thoroughly entranced by "Beautiful Objects, Out of Reach"

Please keep pushing and reaching. It's working.

I am holding your family and your father in the Light.

9:52 PM  
Blogger Carolee said...

i'll be thinking of you tomorrow. i'm glad you're writing "new" despite your instincts/habits. even if it doesn't work every day, it worked today.

10:38 PM  
Blogger Unknown said...

Help!! I’ve been tagged for the six word memoir game and need five friends. Tag. You’re it…Please come out and play. It’s easy, schmeezy. For the lowdown please check my blog (entry posted 4/8/2008). Thanks, and enjoy the heck out of today!! AnnieH

10:21 AM  
Blogger Unknown said...

Wanted to let you know that I too will be thinking of you and your family tomorrow. I work in a NeuroSurgical ICU--a lot with aneurysms. If there are any questions I can help with please feel free to ask, or cathart.It's generally better to get an aneurysm clipped or stabilized, and not risk a bleed, but...still... surgery and still frightening.Blessings to you all. AnnieH

10:32 AM  
Blogger Christine Swint said...

I love this poem, especially how each image is placed together, no explanations, let the reader come to her own conclusions. Great work!

Best wishes to your father.

5:14 PM  
Blogger GreenishLady said...

And what a beautiful poem, and what a sweet inclusion of your father. I hope all will be well.

6:37 PM  
Blogger Joyce Ellen Davis said...

Sending prayers and good thoughts to your dad. And, you can also use this poem in your new chapbook!

3:46 PM  

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