Quilted Coves

This is the first poem I wrote this semester. It’s called an Ars Poetica, which literally means the art of poetry. I thought about what poetry was to me and wrote a poem based on that. Part of it is fictional but the whole vibe of it, I think comes from being in high school and little moments that stand out, especially with Sylva and Bryan. They’ve often been the inspiration of my poetry. I’ll be reading it along with one other poem that I’ll post when it’s completed about my grandma being a ghost.

Poetry is a chameleon
in a cove of hidden secrets
and lost love that you return to
when you wake the dust
in your attic and uncover
the moth-eaten quilt.

Poetry preserves moments
makes them eternal like the initials
of her name you carved
into your arm with your fingernails
when you were sixteen
on the back of your tailgate.

Poetry becomes the warmth of a flannel
holding off autumn’s first chill.
It floats by on the wind
the scent of a lost lover,
and lingers in your mouth
like the taste of a first kiss.

It takes you to the hill
rolled with sleeping spools of hay
and the pink hued sunset
you tasted her under,
on the quilt you drenched with sweat
before you moaned goodnight.

Books to Read Before 2011 and Winter Activities

As my semester draws to a close, I must begin making reading lists. Why? Because I love to! So far it’s not a huge list but this is what I’ve got. I’ve already started on a few (LOTR and Matilda). This list may expand if I end up reading faster than I think. I will have lots of holiday activities planned as well as starting a workout regime. I will probably also be applying for jobs just to see what’s out there (I’m still very hopeful about staying on at the MET).

Movie wise, I plan on seeing The Dawn Treader (Chronicles of Narnia), maybe Yogi Bear with my nieces. Joshua is going to start listening/reading to Harry Potter so that in July we’re able to share that experience.

This weekend is shaping up to be a really great one. On Friday, Joshua’s art starts being displayed in Fountain Square. I’m really looking forward to seeing his and Datruce’s pieces. On Saturday we’re doing different things around Indy, buying a Christmas tree and decorating it. That of course means hot chocolate and Christmas music! I love the Christmas season!

• Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen
• The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
• The Lord of the Ring: Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien
• Matlida by Roald Dahl
• The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald (I think I may have read this in high school but I don’t remember much from it.)
• Animal Farm by George Orwell
• The Diary of Anne Frank by Anne Frank

“Time is Not Yet Equal*”

Joshua and I’s wedding is in 304 days. Less that a year. In terms of everything that comes with that date: excitement, love, the anticipation, the actual ceremony, the reception, the honeymoon and you know, the actual being married part makes 304 days seem like an eternity. It’s something I just want to happen (while at the same time, the planning and waiting are a great experiences).

Yet, as I talk with Mrs. Wilson and hear snippets of conversation around the house or overheard phone conversation and I hear, “That’s cutting it close for her” or along the lines of her not making it to an Oct. 1st wedding and suddenly time is much more precious, suddenly each day needs to be a year long.

I hate how unequal those two time feelings are. It makes me regret setting an October wedding (even though I set it with the knowledge of her cancer) because Mrs. Wilson has been and is such an important person in my life. The thought of her having less than 304 days left is terribly heartbreaking. I don’t know if I even know how to put into words what I’m trying to say.

Mrs. Wilson has the will and hope that she’ll live that long but I still wonder if the thought crosses her mind daily that she may not make it that long. How does one live their life, even in their own mind, with the knowledge that life is coming to a close. For her, her faith in Christ’s redemption helps her along but I know she’s not done. I know she wants to be there on October 1st and even more importantly be there when Matthew graduates college, gets married or when Jenny gives her a grandchild. I know she’s not ready to leave everyone behind, to stop having multiple hour phone conversations, to stop receiving/send cards on a daily basis. I know she’s not tired of yelling, “Jeff” from the kitchen to him in the living room snoring in front of the television. She’s not ready to leave Sadie behind, her little doggy shadow. She’s not ready to stop exclaiming in her high pitched voice about anything she finds over the top (which can be very little at times). She’s not ready to stop visiting Kohls and talking with all of those people she use to work with. She’s not ready to stop mothering everyone. She’s not ready to stop saying (which she has nearly daily since I’ve known her) that she needs to “get things done” and clean the basement out.

So how do you live when the grains in the hourglass are so few (presumably).

*Note: This was the title of Tanya Smith’s poem presented in poetry workshop recently. All due credit to her.