Mood:  hug me

Let me know what you think about this poem. I like how the theme is transformation too, even as I blogged about the words taking form into a poem.  I need to catch up with my supposed NaPoWriMo mission! Whatever, I just want to write more!

Transfigure

mood swinging

shadows stretching

nerves stretched long

sharp as glass

edge of pain

dull and rounded

tempered

from heat and pressure

pin prick on skin

inside of wrist

a shameful scar

a former life

Posted by mary at 11:08 PM EDT

Updated: Thu, Jun 5 2008 4:10 PM EDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | View Comments (1) | Permalink

Mood:  down

Here's just some notes, a freewrite of sorts, for a poem I'm trying to write. It doesn't have an anchor or a strong sense of itself yet. But I thought it might be interesting to see how it "transforms" into a poem in the next few days.

mood swinging

shadows stretching

long

skinny feeling

nerves sharp as glass

edge of pain

dull and round

tempered glass

pin prick of cactus

on inside of wrist

the shameful scar

of a former life

lessons learned the hard way

Posted by mary at 1:43 PM EDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | View Comments (1) | Permalink

Mood:  quizzical

The Mapmaker

He measures distance underfoot,

feeling each rise and fall, slope and retreat.

He first knew that August day,

only eleven years old,

counting the steps in his head,

attempting to escape a life

of his father’s punishment.

He knew after a thousand steps

he’d have to return.

That she could not follow.

Years later, she lay boiling with fever,

deaf to the first bellows of the coming war.

His footsteps then were inevitable.

They carried him off,

away from the battle at home.

He kept the measurements in his mind

like page numbers of his Mother’s hymnal.

“To the river 308,

Hilltop to the valley 441.”

Long after he had scribbled his notes

on oily parchment,

he could hear her voice singing

faithfully.

One day he’d follow his footprints home,

to help rebuild the broken geography.

***

I had the word mapmaker in my mind for a few days and got inspired to include a bit of Civil War history. Today, April 12th, is actually when hostilities began in South Carolina. I worry that this poem may be more suited to prose. Please let me know what you think.

Posted by mary at 10:38 PM EDT

Updated: Sat, Apr 12 2008 10:43 PM EDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink

Mood:  happy

After an April Rain

water filled gullies

mining long finished

my heart laid open

discarded the same way

the men walked miles

to find themselves in the desert

along the Platte river

flowing north then east

the coarse line of the Mosquito Range

like the pattern of their wanderings

in search of earth’s promise

their histories washed away

***

I had to do some research for this one. Inspiration was sparked by readwritepoem's random word generator. The word was discard. I did a free write for a few minutes and then my thoughts came together. I wanted to write about the rain and use the word "gully." Of course, I looked it up just to make sure it was a real word! That lead me down a whole path about mining and Colorado. I was reminded of the movie There Will Be Blood and the cold, rugged nature of the work and landscape. I hope all of that came through, or at least the piece makes some sense.  Well, I have some catching up to do for NaPoWriMo... but this is a good start!

Posted by mary at 9:49 PM EDT

Updated: Thu, Jun 5 2008 4:13 PM EDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink

Am I up for it? Wanna join me?

Luckily, spring break is right around the corner and I need the motivation to write. I might just end up sitting on my butt in front of the idiot box otherwise. Though, R and I are hoping to get away to a local destination. Maybe Savannah.

Posted by mary at 12:41 PM EDT

Updated: Tue, Mar 25 2008 1:34 PM EDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink

This is a poem I wrote for a 100 word swap. I thought it would be an interesting challenge, not only to write something but also to be precise with word choice.

          *** 

Two Years Since

an impromptu gathering
one rust orange and one flaming red
branch to branch
an afternoon pursuit
and song

the 23rd came and went too
with only the vibration of wood
as evidence

what does grief leave behind
as marker or proof

the well of nothingness
grows deeper
bird call
sounds more sorrowful
hue of blood in dirt
blooms more vivid

life seems as hasty now
as ever
forgettable as last year’s nest
wasted as broken eggshells

these anniversaries
whether remembered or not
are on the path
from here to there

as we migrate
between love and death
life and flight

Posted by mary at 9:13 PM EDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | View Comments (3) | Permalink

Mood:  a-ok

It feels like time for a new blog. Not that I wasn't happy with my old blog... but changes are happening in my life and I want to carve out a new space.  I'd like this blog to focus more on my writing and creative endeavors, while Mary's Madness will be for the other adventures in my life.

Will I develop a split personality, with one "mommy" blog and one blog for my Other self? I hope not. But maybe readers interested in reading my poems and such don't necessarily want to read about baba's latest dr's appointment. Didn't I always say I hated that kind of "brushed my teeth" blog writing? Ah, so.

As John Haines is quoted in Into the Wild:
"The trails I made led outward into the hills and swamps, but they led inward also. Whether on foot, on snowshoes, or by sled, into the summer hills, and their late freezing shadows - a high blaze, a summer track in the snow would show where I had gone. Let the rest of humanity find me if it could."

Posted by mary at 11:34 AM EDT

Updated: Thu, Mar 13 2008 12:10 PM EDT

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink