Once again from "A Writer's Book of Days." Choose one, or more, and write away.
11/27: Write about a sudden storm.
11/28: One Saturday night...
11/29: Write about avenues of escape.
11/30: A woman named _________.
12/01: Write about an invitation refused.
12/02: ... and nobody objected.
12/03: I recall that evening together.
A Woman Named Ruth
ReplyDeleteRuth rants and raves - yells
yet her rants make sense
if you listen to her.
She claims we are in her home
tells us to find our own families.
Ruth rants and raves - yells.
At times she hums
plays a beat on the table.
If you listen to her
there is sanity in her madness.
She tells me my hair needs cut,
Ruth rants and raves
that nine dollars isn't too much
Her mind recalls past events.
If you listen to her
you learn about her family
who never comes to visit her.
Ruth rants and raves - yells
that she has to go home
to take care of her children.
If you listen to her
your heart breaks for her
abandoned by her grown children.
If you listen to her
Ruth rants and raves - yells.
Fantastic!!! You captured dementia to a T. I felt I was there listening to Ruth and felt so bad for her. Is she a real person. She felt like a real person. You put the persona in there so realistically. Great villanelle.
DeleteYou really do have a knack for descriptive poetry. This is so sad.
DeletePoetry-wise, in stanza 4, you're missing "- yells" in the repetition I see in the poem. I guess I'd call this a "faux villanelle." LOL. The pattern but not the rhymes.
whoops my bad!
DeleteI've seen rhymeless villanelles before. Hey, it's the 21st century. I agree with Linda about capturing the realness of Ruth.
DeleteBonnie, I also agree with Linda. You captured reality in your poem very nicely.
DeleteRuth is one of the patients here with me at the rehad center although I suspect she is a permanent resident. someone here who has known her for years, before her mind failed her, said she was a wonderful person and raised for children who should be ashamed of themselves. they dumped her here and have abandoned her to her madness. some of us carry on conversations with her and she actually makes sense if, as i said, you listen.
DeleteA Woman Named Ruth II
DeleteThey came to sing Christmas carols
it was lunch time
Oh Come All Ye Faithful
Away in a manger
it was lunch time
the leader began to preach
away in a manger
Jesus lay down his sweet head
the leader began to preach
you have to know Jesus to be saved
Jesus lay down his sweet head
"uh! uh! no no no!" Ruth yelled
you have to know Jesus to be saved!
"I don't gotta do nothin' I don't wanna do!"
"Uh! uh! no no no! Ruth yelled.
People laughed - the preacher gave up.
"I don't gotta do nothin' I don't wanna do!"
Oh Come All Ye Faithful
People laughed - the preacher gave up.
They came to sing Christmas carols.
We were sleeping soundly
ReplyDeleteIn a tent
It was Kansas
We weren’t prepared
In a tent
With all our belongings
We weren’t prepared
The gully washer came suddenly
With all our belongings
My journal; my clothes
The gully washer came suddenly
Washed our tent right down
My journal; my clothes
All soaked; journal ruined
Washed our tent right down
Grabbed what we could
All soaked; journal ruined
Drawings smeared like blurs
Grabbed what we could
Ran for the car
Drawings smeared like blurs
It was Kansas
Ran for the car
We were sleeping soundly
you set a great scene with your words, or i should say and exciting scene! and scary! so sorry you had to experience it.
Deleteyes, I had used magic marker in my journal for drawings of the scenery that we passed along the way. I had no idea that Kansas had flash floods.Thanks for the great comment.
DeleteI like this one too though it's not nearly as powerful as the other. You do use pantoums well to tell a story, and it's hard to move forward when the form is cyclical.
DeleteI always like it when a story successfully battles its way through a form not conducive to storytelling.
DeleteLinda, I remember that storm. It was definitely an unexpected flash flood! You put it into poetry very well. I love the way it turned out.
DeleteAVENUES OF ESCAPE
ReplyDeleteI am lost on a mountain
of diamonds and jade,
the cool mist delights
my naked body,
as i follow dream scapes
into non-reality.
I tease the avenues, of
erected nipples,
brushing softly against
silent escapes,
of delusional delight.
Point down;
point up!
Lead the way
through fire and flame
of passion,
ashes cover all routes of escape,
run, run, as sweat drips in rivulets
down flesh, exotic, erotic,
dreams-capes of amber and mauve
play havoc on my sleeping mind
I love the escape from reality that dreams bring, but sometimes when i wake up it takes me awhile to realize it was just a dream.
DeleteI like this one a lot. Love the "dream scape" / "dreams - cape." Very cleaver!
DeleteLinda, sleeping and dreaming can be so wild. i love this poem for the sheer beauty of poetry. I like the "dreams-capes" too, like Victoria.
DeleteThis one has actually been in an anthology --"Villanelles," edited by Annie Finch and Marie-Elizabeth Mali. It's for the invitation refused" prompt:
ReplyDeleteUSED BY PERMISSION
Used by permission…?
Permission denied.
An act of contrition
Obtained by coercion,
Declared null and void,
Used by permission.
A brief assignation:
A tumble in bed,
An act of contrition
A bout of depression,
A sad interlude
Used by permission.
There’s no absolution.
You cannot evade
An act of contrition.
It’s the human condition,
There’s nothing to hide.
Used by permission,
An act of contrition.
Tad, I recognize this to be a villanelle. I think it is very pretty in it's sadness. I especially like the last verse about the human condition. This is a powerful poem.
DeleteI agree with Paul. This is a very powerful poem.Usually villanelles turn out like songs. This is a power packed bit of life! I enjoyed reading it very much. We enjoyed it reading it aloud also. We do that to all of the poems. Yours read very smoothly.
Deletewowo!.powerful in it's sadness. the words jump off the page and totally affect the reader. at least this reader. thank you for sharing this with us.
DeleteYes, this is definitely a reading aloud poem. Feels like slam piece except the length (and Tad, I mean that as a compliment even though I know you don't particularly like slam poems.)
Deletefiring out to space
ReplyDeletea jolting terror flying
change directiions
Very powerful for a haiku! Quite a lot said about a storm in a few words! well done for your first haiku!
Deletei like senryu poems as you have to really think about what you want to convey to the reader in so few words. well done!!!
DeleteThank you very much Bonnie. I don't know what I'm doing yet so I really appreciate the encouragement. We thought it was a haiku because it was about nature. Could you explain the difference between a haiku and a senryu,Please?
DeleteI like this also. If you are trying to do a 5-7-5 syllable count you missed it on the last line but it could be easily fixed to "changes directions."
DeleteHere's one on avenues of escape...
ReplyDeleteJOURNEY
Go to a station in a large city.
Train will do, but they run on those
tracks. A bus will take you anywhere.
I recommend the bus. Bus station then.
Go to the shortest line, and buy a ticket.
Wherever a hundred dollars will take you.
A hundred is enough. It’ll get you
to a zone where dusk comes sooner,
and with cramped muscles, a stubble,
wrinkled clothes. In that town, there’ll be a woman,
though it may take you some days to find her.
You must find her. Not to, would be
to deny her existence. She must be shown to exist.
You can draw her out if you want to.
Of course you will want to. Count on stories
about fugitive household concerns, a toke at night,
no dreams and no complaints. There’ll be no
sex with her, either, though you’d like it.
She might, too, but you don’t ask. Pain affects you
minimally, pleasure even less, healing not at all.
You live in tectofugal moments: elusive
women and aimless journeys: a flicker.
I truly enjoyed the imagery in this poem..."cramped muscles, a stubble, wrinkled clothes"..."elusive women and aimless journeys: a flicker." You put me on the bus and took me on the endless journey of tectofugal moments, Awesome my friend.
DeleteThis reminds me of a recurring nightmare I used to have about trying to track down my children in the middle of a nuclear war. Not the same plot, but the same desperation and feeling of needing to finding someone.
Deletewonderful imagery. you take the reader on the journey with you. as usual an awesome write.
DeleteVery rough poem, but one I've been meaning to write for a long time. I'll probably run it by Artemis tomorrow and see if they can help me turn it into a better poem.
ReplyDeleteA Woman Named Victoria
Victoria, Dad’s sister, died when Mom
was pregnant with me. I was named for her.
My oldest sister was Linda, pretty
in Spanish. My sister Bonita’s name
means beautiful. Me, named for a dead aunt,.
It was a hard name in the mouths of cruel
children. Icky Vicky, Sticky Vicky.
I wanted to be named Lavinia,
Vinny like my father, like my brother.
I tried Tori as a teen, didn’t stick.
I know it could have been worse, my mother’s
German family names--mother Beulah,
sisters Thelma, Wilhelmina, Gladys,
Mildred. I have come to love my own name.
I am a woman named Victoria.
yes my name also got some interesting responses...whe charlie the tuna came out as the spokes tuna for a tuna fish with the words eat well bonta on the label... well you can imagine the ribbing i took forthat one. I have always loved your name. i guess we all wish we had been named something different. i love the poem and the acceptance at the end.
DeleteYes, we all either have to accept our names or change them. I was Linda pinda. children are so cruel and I was so skinny. I always thought i should have been Silvia. I tried to steal a little girls name in k-garten. I told her she was linda and i was Silvia and if she disagreed, i beat her up. lmbo. I spent a lot of time on the bench outside the office and in the principles office. I always thought YOU had the best name out of all of us Victoria.
Deletehahahaha and what about me. Bole...Paul toilet bowl and somehow even now people find an i in there and call me Mr. Boils. Linda told me Rivas went through the mill also. Rivers, Rivets, etc. I'm glad u took a good turn on your name it is a nice name.
Delete