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perspective
Sometimes, you just need a moment to remember who you are... who you were...
I just got back from my grandparent's. Their house hasn't changed much--books are still piled all over, mixed with my grandmother's knitting and writing projects, and Grandpa's newspapers. The "willow" tree out front, where we cousins used to dress up and play "Little House on the Prairie" (I was Ma, 'cause I was the oldest. And my sister Laura was usually Laura, even though she was the youngest.) is larger now--we could no longer use the split in the trunk as a table. But there are still cats prowling around and apples in the orchard and swallow nests on the front porch.
Magic still lingers there.
My grandparents are getting old now. Late 70s with white hair and ill health. But Grandpa is already getting his snowmobile ready, at just the mention of an early winter. And Grandma has so many projects that I think she keeps to defend herself against death--she can't go until it's organized for her posterity.
I spent three days talking with my grandma about politics and religion, family and ancestors, art and poetry. We talked a lot about writing. I confessed that I still write when I can (although I don't think she understood what fanfiction was).
Grandma writes--essays, short stories and poetry. It's her poetry that I like the most.
PERSPECTIVES
What if?
All coffins
Had a mariner's spy glass
Installed in the lid--
Small end sticking out of the
Mound of the grave?
Those who mourned
Might check on the progress
Of the deceased towards heaven
Of hell, and look for evidence
Of the ghost, hovering below decks,
Perhaps have their suspicions
Confirmed that death is real--
And final.
What if?
The corpse,
Sleeping in satin comfort
Would dream through
The large end of the scope
The world she had left behind,
Miniature, with joys and terrors
Likewise reduced in importance:
Worldly goods not apparent,
Hurry not visible, tension obscured,
War a little pall of smoke.
Indifferent to suffering and sacrifice,
She would see all things diminished
Like a scene in a desk top paperweight--
View earth and the universe
From the Mind of God.
~CKD
I've been bitten with the poetry bug... I've never really written much--mostly because I don't think of myself as the lyrical type (and no, we're not talking rhyming) and I think all that I have in me is trite... But I think I just might try.
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fileg, at one time, you mentioned starting a LJ community like your "verse and adversity" forum at HASA. Would you still be willing to do it? I never was as active in V&A as I wanted, but I did learn some invaluable lessons on how to tackle poetry, and I would love to see something like that here on LJ.
~~~~~~~
I have two whole weeks off! Whee! I haven't had more than a weekend since July. I already feel less sleep-deprived. I have lofty goals (such as cleaning my house... Hate it, but it's gotta be done!) and a beautiful week to do it in.
Chris called me as soon as I got home. It's nice to know I was missed. :)
I just got back from my grandparent's. Their house hasn't changed much--books are still piled all over, mixed with my grandmother's knitting and writing projects, and Grandpa's newspapers. The "willow" tree out front, where we cousins used to dress up and play "Little House on the Prairie" (I was Ma, 'cause I was the oldest. And my sister Laura was usually Laura, even though she was the youngest.) is larger now--we could no longer use the split in the trunk as a table. But there are still cats prowling around and apples in the orchard and swallow nests on the front porch.
Magic still lingers there.
My grandparents are getting old now. Late 70s with white hair and ill health. But Grandpa is already getting his snowmobile ready, at just the mention of an early winter. And Grandma has so many projects that I think she keeps to defend herself against death--she can't go until it's organized for her posterity.
I spent three days talking with my grandma about politics and religion, family and ancestors, art and poetry. We talked a lot about writing. I confessed that I still write when I can (although I don't think she understood what fanfiction was).
Grandma writes--essays, short stories and poetry. It's her poetry that I like the most.
PERSPECTIVES
What if?
All coffins
Had a mariner's spy glass
Installed in the lid--
Small end sticking out of the
Mound of the grave?
Those who mourned
Might check on the progress
Of the deceased towards heaven
Of hell, and look for evidence
Of the ghost, hovering below decks,
Perhaps have their suspicions
Confirmed that death is real--
And final.
What if?
The corpse,
Sleeping in satin comfort
Would dream through
The large end of the scope
The world she had left behind,
Miniature, with joys and terrors
Likewise reduced in importance:
Worldly goods not apparent,
Hurry not visible, tension obscured,
War a little pall of smoke.
Indifferent to suffering and sacrifice,
She would see all things diminished
Like a scene in a desk top paperweight--
View earth and the universe
From the Mind of God.
~CKD
I've been bitten with the poetry bug... I've never really written much--mostly because I don't think of myself as the lyrical type (and no, we're not talking rhyming) and I think all that I have in me is trite... But I think I just might try.
fileg, at one time, you mentioned starting a LJ community like your "verse and adversity" forum at HASA. Would you still be willing to do it? I never was as active in V&A as I wanted, but I did learn some invaluable lessons on how to tackle poetry, and I would love to see something like that here on LJ. ~~~~~~~
I have two whole weeks off! Whee! I haven't had more than a weekend since July. I already feel less sleep-deprived. I have lofty goals (such as cleaning my house... Hate it, but it's gotta be done!) and a beautiful week to do it in.
Chris called me as soon as I got home. It's nice to know I was missed. :)
no subject
Don't even talk about writing poetry - I have to write poetry for the first few assignments of my writing course. And I can only write poetry when I'm in love.
We should try to catch up now that you have a bit of free time.
*hugs*