I thought no one was looking. So I wrote a few things. Or maybe just one thing. It offended a family member. Not a family member I talk to very often. Especially not the last time I saw her. In June, at a family gathering, there was a mighty snub, noticeable even by my dear husband, that I got an explanation for, second-hand, a few weeks ago.
My mind has put a gag order on my fingers.
I’m writing fiction from now on.
Just so you (my one reader) knows.
Let’s Start With a List Poem
There is nothing to be said
an elderly friend’s son is left brain-dead
after an untreated fall from a ladder
According to one expert at the international
symposium there is no value
to be had by culling white-nose syndrom bats
Mother should keep doing what she has been
her heart is no worse than it was
but testing continues to what end
A heron wades in the creek
just below the bubbling culvert
waits for frogs to make their last move
I haven’t seen my tabby boy for weeks
replies can’t be made to praise
sleep returned without a lover’s remorse
I’ve started a list for the things I believe in
after old church-friends turn up to call
it starts with hot peppers, I’m convinced
An old friend sent pictures from a wedding
she’d arranged arrangements for
another answered a state hospital’s communal phone
* * *
This ought not be categorized as poetry. But my fingers are not convinced.
No related posts.
The no’s know. No_thing.
Read #6 of the piece I wrote several years ago for Dead Mule and you’ll know immediately that I got busted big time by my family. Amazingly, it led to some of us actually looking at a few of the elephants who had taken up residence in the family room, and my sister and I communicate real self to real self (free of family musts and shoulds) these days. Here’s the link to the Dead Mule bit: http://www.deadmule.com/content/word.of.mule.php?content_id=877
Oh, thank you Beth! I will be right over to read.
A beautiful piece of writing. I assume it was the second six (related to sixth sense — aren’t you clever!) that got yall talking.
I’m not sure my outcome will be like yours. But thank you for the encouragement, and the great read.
Heh — that’s really funny — I have never noticed the 2 sixes — wish I could claim cleverness on that one! :)
And thanks. I sure do miss my Uncle Arthur. He was a sweetie. I used to call him a “poor man’s Dean Martin.”
people survive lots worse in this world than recognizing themselves in someone’s poetry. even this piece reminds us of that: someone is brain dead for crying out loud.
i will not stand for any gag orders, got it? i’m tough enough to enforce this rule, too. yes?
i really enjoy list poems and pieces that seem to be a random assemblage of happenings and images. i think they are the starts of something, and this one is a great beginning.
i wonder what would happen if you took some of the most descriptive phrases and used them in a revision:
an untreated fall from a ladder
white-nose syndrom bats
keep doing what she has been
her heart is no worse
frogs make their last move
I haven’t seen my tabby boy for weeks
it starts with hot peppers, I’m convinced
a state hospital’s communal phone
Oh, wow. I like this idea a lot. Lots of lot.