A Week of Poems

Before I dive into this weeks little writing venture, I have some somewhat disappointing news to share. One of the dogs my friends in Norway have is very, very sick so my trip has been postponed. Knowing what it's like to have a pet that ill, imagining what it would be like to leave them behind for two weeks, I couldn't not agree to change the dates. I'm definitely bummed; I was pretty much packed, had picked out my hikes, and was looking forward to celebrating my birthday in a foreign country. But I get, I really do, agreeing to push the trip back is the best for everyone involved. So keep tuned for new trip dates and in the mean time - A Week of Poems. 

I kind of fell into this by accident. Last Sunday I wrote one, then another on Monday, Tuesday's came as a result of Steph's birthday and from there I just decided to write a whole weeks worth and post them. Normally if I put a poem on here I've worked on it for at least a few hours, if not days, and so feel fairly happy with what I'm sharing. That is not the case for these poems. Most were written in just minutes with little to no editing afterwards so please keep that in mind when you judge them. That being said here they are ..... 

 

A couple of months ago, I asked my Facebook family for some writing prompts. One friend suggest a poem with the word 'Embrace' in it (which is my 2016 Word of the Year). I highly doubt this was what she'd imagined and it definitely wasn't what I'd first envisioned when I first read her idea. But I think this is what happens when I read Neil Gaiman (which I was last Sunday). His worlds are full of beauty and fantastical magic, but they also contain some haunted darkness.

Embrace the darkness, defy the sun,

fly through lost forests of haunted fun

My laughter is laced, with others' fear, 

my strength built upon each new fallen tear

Embrace the darkness, defy the sun,

Evil has mastered, heroes no more will come

~~~~ 

 

  

Dictionary.com's Word of the Day inspired Monday's poem. The word was 'jimjams' which means 'extreme nervousness or jitters' and it seemed to fun a word (fun to say that is) that I couldn't not put it into a poem!

I wake from dreams filled with stuttering jimjams
My thoughts are crashing, rattling, tin cans

I can't trust my eyes, they're threatening to cry,
'cause my dreams are no longer a safe place to hide

 ~~~~

Tuesday was the birthday of Stephanie, my very best friend in the whole world. I wrote this for her which is why it's filled with references that most of you will not understand at all. 

There was Jenny and Mario - and Heather too,

Playing barbies in jail on Sunday afternoons,

Swirling tornadoes in the front yard,

'Driving' for hours in that beat up half car.

There were distances spent, first in hours - then years,

In between there were weddings, surprise visits, losses, and tears

And in that great time we threatened to fade,

but fate still fought for us, knowing that there'd come a day

Where toast was a question mark and spiderturtles roamed,

where boxes of stuffing appear mysteriously in my cupboard at home,

And then that time we 'never needed to shave'

Followed soon by me losing my debit card for a day

Whether slipping up mountains or getting burnt on a beach,

Dreaming about Ipswitch and our Fairy tree,

I can't possibly imagine a better best friend,

My Two of a Three you'll be 'till the end!

~~~~

Wednesday I did not want to be here in Utah. I wanted to be in France. I changed my desktop background at work to pictures of Paris but that just wasn't enough, so I wrote this poem. It still wasn't enough, but it helped.

Today I wish I was in France,

I'd tiptoe on the streets, then dance

my way to a Paris Café,

for foamy cappuccino days,

From there I'd skip my way to Rome,

singing all their songs of home,

and once Venice had floated by,

I'd spread my arms, breath deep and fly

Way up north to Ireland,

where magic saunters through the land,

then swim to Iceland, where volcanic flows

echo the wildness in every soul.

I'll journey then through the earth,

until I touch Antarctic dirt,

to play with penguins and skate on ice,

and delight in the freezing, clear blue skies

What will come next, I do not know,

I guess wherever feels like home,

but today I'm happy to just dance,

and tiptoe on the streets of France

~~~~

I was in bed almost asleep on Thursday when I realized I hadn't written a thing and came up with this in literally 30 seconds. It's darker than I would have thought but I credit that, again, to the Neil Gaiman's influence.

Daisies and Daffodils,

clanging hearts, singing bells,

Oh how I want to run away,

but I am forced here to stay,

to witness what I cannot take,

for if I do my soul will break...

To late, I'm left with just one thing,

the comforting kiss of the endless dream

~~~~

This was the hardest poem for me to write this week. Writing a poem about winter was a writing prompt another friend had given me when I'd asked. On Friday I decided to try doing so with a non-rhyming poem, something I struggle writing more than just about anything else. I need to do a lot of work with this before I will be even remotely satisfied with it, but at least I've got it started. 

Winter breezes call my soul but outside it's green and hot

I long for diamond's frozen ice, pine for white dewdrops to fall

My mind falls into winter woods, my footsteps crunch in snow's soft blanket

Each breath creates it's own misty swirl, breathe in, breathe out, a raven caws

I pass a cave a bears silent den, I fear her not for she's lost to dreams

The rivers wide but gives me no pause, the twisting ice I know will hold

I step on following it's twists it's turns, filled with wonder at winter's beauty

It's hot outside, green and vibrant, yet winter's breeze has filled my soul

~~~~

No big story or inspiration for this one. It is simply just the story of where I was in the world, and in my mind, yesterday evening.

Tired thoughts, quiet cats,

I'm sitting in bed listening to an NPR rap,

The fan is whirring overhead, it's softening breeze clearing my head,

Birds are flying away outside, leaving echoes of songs in their stead.

Dusk has now begun to set, but the sun is not quite gone yet,

Still I know it won't be long 'till it has sunk and the world will get,

To see the stars dancing to the moon's white song,

I could watch their beauty all night long.

 ~~~~

And that's all for now, I wish all of you a spectacular week! 

A Few Randoms

So I didn't find much time for writing this week. To be honest I didn't write at all. This past Friday evening I was in my room and heard an oft repeated phrase coming through the speakers of my radio. They set off a firestorm of thoughts in my mind and I knew instantly I wanted that to be my writing topic of the week. I've spent today's noontime hours writing but am not quite satisfied with what I've come up with so far; I want more time to really line out and weave together my thoughts. But, I need to write and share something this week so a few randoms...

For the past month or so I have found myself in a situation where I'm left slightly unsatisfied by whatever book I have read. In each case the writing of the author

is exquisite to the point of tears and often the turning of each page brought another phrase delicate in it's beauty or cruel in it's truth. Yet the stories themselves could not captivate my imagination, did little to hold my attention. Last weekend I closed, for the final time, the cover of one such book and instead of looking for some new unknown volume I picked up an old favorite by Neil Gaiman. I can't tell you the delight it has been to once more be reading something that excites me, that I think about when I'm forced to do something else, that is full of magic I wish I could fall into. Neil Gaiman is pure, wonderful genius and I am so, so grateful for the day that he decided to no longer keep to himself all the fantastical worlds that exist in his mind, for this world would infinitely more dreary without them.

Several years ago I got sucked up (no pun intended) into the dark, vibrant world of the TV show Trueblood. I gathered the seasons on DVD as fast as I possibly could and went through the episodes like a wildfire races through a field of dead grass. As time passed my enthusiasm for the characters and their stories ebbed somewhat but I would return to the show every few months and fall in love with it all over again. But since it's a show full of strong language, graphic violence, and quite a bit of sex, I haven't even considered watching it since arriving in Utah, much less actually done so. Last Sunday though I woke up with it on my mind, decided it was time to revisit it again, and managed to squeeze in a couple episodes in the few hours the kids were at church. It was awesome. So I'm doing that again today, as I type actually, and this might have to become my new Sunday tradition.

This morning, NPR's Weekend Edition interviewed two members of the band SHEL. There are four members total, sisters who were home schooled as kids. They have just released their second album and among the songs is a cover of the Metallica song "Enter Sandman" . I really liked it, enough to go listen to some more of their songs on Youtube and I think I just may have found a new favorite band to listen to!  

Lastly, this ~ "You could rattle the stars," she whispered. "You could do anything, if only you dared. And deep down, you know it, too. That's what scares you most"

Take it as another reminder to not listen to fear, to refuse it the opportunity to take over your dreams, and in so doing your life. Please, whenever fear faces you, knock it down, discover your dreams, and find what it means to be truly alive!

~~~~

Transitional Moments

Every life is made up of many transitional moments. Sometimes, they're big, you can see them coming. Graduation, marriage, the birth of a child, moving to a new place, the loss of a loved one after a long illness...events that you can somewhat plan for and - depending on the promise they hold -prepare yourself to either embrace or endure them. Other moments are small, possibly existing only a few seconds in time, yet their impact is no less important, they too represent a change in the world, that is impossible to undo. My small observation this week has to do with those small moments where time wrinkled itself into a new direction that I have no choice but to follow.

I remember with crystalline clarity one such moment on a quiet Sunday morning last February.  Curled up in bed, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other, I would periodically gaze out my window to wonderful Maine street below then glance over at Synge and Faelina napping softly by my feet, before turning my attention once more to the pages before me. Faelina shifted suddenly causing me to look up and when I did I saw, not the baby kitten I'd been living with the past seven months, but the adult cat she had, seemingly in a second, grown into. Her attitude and antics were still kittenlike (in truth they still are) but I was reluctantly forced to face the sad truth that my 'kitten' was disappearing, and that fact made my heart cry. I learned to embrace that though, and to enjoy the two wonderful adult cats that made my heart whole every day.

This past week, I was standing at Steph's kitchen sink washing my dishes. I briefly paused my concentration to move my gaze up and over to the entrance of the hall leading to my room. Synge was sitting there, quietly observing the room while trying to determine which spot would make the best bed at that particular moment. I think that likely she would have looked perfectly normal to any other person familiar with her sweet face and remarkably striking green eyes. To me though she was different, changed. She seemed slightly diminished, a touch more delicate. My Synge, the one who has been with me through college, the death of my dad, two moves across the country, and my battle with anorexia had, seemingly in a second, become old. Now thankfully she is not ancient, and I think we still have years ahead of us before time presents us with that final goodbye. Still, I know now we're closer to it's coming. I know I now have to worry more, pay closer attention, to whether or not she's healthy, pain free, and happy. I wouldn't trade the day we chose to adopt her for anything, but having harsh reality remind me that she won't be with me always, absolutely causes my heart to weep.

My Mom is a Miracle

This introduction will be short and sweet. Today is Mother's Day and sadly I am not able to be with my mom in person to help her celebrate. Growing up I always knew that I had a great mom (although I didn't always act like it (sorry mom)), but since living with Stephanie my eyes have been opened completely to the reality of just how much my mom did for me, of the sacrifices she made so that I could have the incredible childhood I had. Stephanie gives everything she is to her kids, I know now that my mom did too So mom...

Mom, you are a miracle,

one that sometimes goes unseen,

Full of love, strength and intelligence,

you've done so much for me.

While words of thanks are never enough,

to match all that you are,

here are some thoughts on my mind right,

today's bright memory stars ...

Thank you for my Samantha's doll cape and all her other clothes,

For letting me spend my college years living for free at home,

Thanks for hundreds of times you've cooked my favorite foods,

and, in a way, I am grateful for those dandelions too.

Thank you for your dedication to teach me to crochet,

for all for the fun projects during our homeschool days,

Thanks for always taking care of me each time I got sick,

and for your sense of adventure in all of our roadtrips.

Thank you sharing your love of coffee, the surprise of that star sapphire ring,

for the day we adopted Synge - who knew that cats would be my thing,

Thanks for supporting my dream to roam the world no matter where I go,

and for saving me when I was fading, your continued fight to make me whole. 

Mom you are a miracle,

whose gift of life was just the start,

you're the perfect oenomel,

I love you with all my heart

~~~~

Inverted Commas

I have been terrible about writing lately. These past few months I’ve barely picked up a pen and paper or placed my fingers on the keyboard, and when you compare the frequency of my posts now to this time last year there is a stark difference. Of course, a year ago I was new to recovery, each day a fresh hell, and writing helped ease the burden of that struggle, somewhat.  Now that I’ve been weathering the fight for this long, that ‘fresh hell’ has become a quieter sort of subdued one that I doesn't usually require writing work through and process. That’s one reason for my absent posting, a valid one I’d say. The other - that I just feel too busy – is not. I know my schedule is not so full it prevents me from scribbling a mere few sentences, at least not if I want to become serious about writing.

So I have set myself a requirement. Not a goal, not a challenge, but an absolute, must do, no excuses requirement that I will write and share on this blog at least once a week. It could be about something I’ve done in the past seven days, an observation, a realization, a super spectacular (or fantastically horrible) moment, what I’m currently reading, an answer to a question, etc.… It might be pages long or only a paragraph, and perhaps, on rare occasions, a few scribbled sentences. I will do my utmost best to adhere to this, but I do ask for reminders should I start to slip.

So starting off this new venture I have kind of a conglomeration of the examples above. My book of choice this week is “The Gathering” by Irish author Anne Enright. I am just a little past halfway through and at this point my enthusiasm for the story is only slightly higher than lackluster. Her writing however is exquisite, and it does feel that the story’s gotten a little better as I've delved further into its' pages so I will read it through to the end. (Just FYI; this book was the 2007 Winner of the Man Booker Prize and has glowing reviews on the cover by the Los Angeles Times and New York Times Book Review so don’t let my comments dissuade you from picking it up). Anyways, last night just before the lights went off, I read one last chapter that ended with these words:

“I thought about this, as I sat in the Shelbourne bar – that I was living my life in inverted commas. I could pick up my keys and go ‘home’ where I could ‘have sex’ with my ‘husband’ just like lots of other people did. This is what I had been doing for years. And I didn’t seem to mind the inverted commas, or even notice that I was living in them, until my brother died.”

When death takes someone we love from us almost without fail at least one person will talk about how that loss has made them realize or remember just how fragile life is, that we should never take it for granted. It’s not uncommon for us to then re-evaluate our place in the world and possibly grab hold of that moment to chase dreams and opportunities that, for whatever reason, had been left untouched. I think this passage has that same message, only it didn’t so much make me question the dreams I was not aspiring towards or my complacency with the areas of my life I already knew were unsatisfactory. Instead, it made me start to wonder about what I’ve taken for granted as the ‘good’ and ‘happy’ and ‘complete’ parts of my life and whether or not they were in fact good, happy and complete. These words and the ideas they invoke have been hovering in my mind all day, and I have a feeling they won’t be leaving anytime soon.

 So I leave you with that exact question; do you have ‘inverted commas’ in your life? If so, what are they? And what should you do, what can you do, to change 'life'  into a life you are fully living?

High on Caffeine and Literary Bliss; An Afternoon in Salt Lake!

All this past week I've grown increasingly uneasy; I felt kind of stuck to the point that it was driving me to some serious distraction (case in point: I got home from the store Thursday evening and while putting my food away poured my entire bag of coffee beans into to my jar full of oats rather than my coffee canister (I wasn't able to extract all the beans and will be having coffee flavored oats for awhile!)). This morning my emotions worked themselves up to a deadlock, my restless mind had had enough, and it fast became clear that I HAD TO get out and do something - go somewhere - that I'd never experienced before. So I jumped in my car with my GPS in tow and drove south to the Salt Lake City Library.

Out of all the people and places in Maine there are very few that I miss more than the Brunswick library; really there isn't a day that passes where I don't miss being able to walk down Maine street to that old brick building to lose myself in it's stacks of literary magic. There is a library in Layton and while - as all libraries do - it has it's own loveliness it holds neither the charm or the selection of Brunswick's and I have been wanting for months now find a library that did. Circulating over 4 million items, the Salt Lake Library definitely meets that first desire, and what it lacks in old New England comfort it makes up for with big city WOW!

The current main location (there are 3) made it's grand début to the city in 2006 and was voted 'Library of the Year' in a national library journal. It's four above ground levels are filled with seemingly endless rows of books, CDs, movies, newspapers, and magazines. Comfy chairs, desks for studying and even gas fireplaces(!) on every level create a relaxed and peaceful atmosphere for families, students, and lone visitor simply looking for some peace and quiet. Their basement level showcases artwork from local artists (I saw some paintings by 8th graders that blew my mind with their talent) and a childrens section full of the obvious books, movies and computers, but also rooms for crafts and little cubby holes and hideouts for little ones to curl up and read. Sharing the main level of the building is a flower shop, a hair salon, a café, and the Library Store -
which is where I found some AWESOME cards and a Shakespeare coffee cup I've been wanting for years!). There is also a coffee shop - IN THE LIBRARY; my first experience with the Salt Lake Roasting Co. was definitely a positive one, I had an iced americano that was perfectly dark, strong, bitter and delicious! I walked out the doors a couple hours later feeling happy, refreshed, and seriously considering paying the $80/year fee it would cost for me (since I don't live in the city) to become a library member.

Before leaving the city I decided to make a quick stop at the Oasis Café/Golden Braid bookstore which my HR director highly recommend I visit, and I am glad she did. After a not so quick meandering through the store I wandered back out with more cards, gifts, and another cup of coffee (also good but the first was definitely my favorite). I arrived home high on caffeine and literary bliss and dug into a heavenly bowl of garlic pasta and broccoli (my goal these past few weeks is to be better at scaring myself with fear foods, hence pasta). My adventures today were exactly what I needed and to sign this post off I leave you with this little reminder I came across today...

~~~~

Exciting Things are Happening!!

 'Catawampus'. This delightful word with a definition of: askew or awry, pretty much describes this past week. I've been up and down, people around me have experienced the same, even the weather seems to be on a roller coaster ride. In short, it's almost as though Alice's Cheshire Cat has decided to temporarily leave Wonderland and play tricks on my life instead. Unfortunately for that cat I am a) used to mischievous cat faced creatures (thank you Faelina) and b) too excited about what is happening this year to be bogged down by it's chicanery. It's actually quite amazing what I have to look forward to.

I'm going to become an aunt to Kairi's little boy and Tori's little something (she's going to be surprised!) in June!! I will be GOING HOME TO ALASKA for Christmas to meet these two little babies (and see the rest of my family of course!), and I haven't been home since 2013. I have a whole new state to explore and discover this summer and fall. All of that in and of itself is amazing, but there does happen to be one other thing...

Seven months ago, I wrote "...I know now I need to expend every effort to one day return. After all when one encounters something whose whispers beckon so strongly, a place who echoes a soul so perfectly matching their own...what other choice is there..."

I was referring of course to Norway, the country I'd spent the previous month calling home. My feelings towards leaving were similar to my opinion of an elephant using me as a soccer ball and I've missed desperately every day since I've left. But now my homesickness for Stavanger is at least temporarily appeased because I am going back!!!!! I depart on June 4th  for two weeks of climbing mountains, exploring small towns, and walking the cobblestone streets of Stavanger. I can scarcely believe my luck that I get to go to two years in a row. And I'll be there over my birthday - how resoundingly fantastic is that?!!

 I am enthusiastically, ecstatically, excited, and I just had to share that with you all!!!