What a delightful, evocative poem! I am glad you stepped out and brought the other pieces either you! And, Rebekah, like Keith does, you often have me looking up a word-pupate this poem! Thank you!
What a relatable and heart rending turn - "Until like my soft child spirit, puberty gutted them without flinching." You manage to convey so much through the images of these blankets. ❤️
Oh I can just see and feel those blankets in my minds eye. We have a little boy that comes into prek everyday thumb firmly in mouth and blanket in grasp.
Thank you Larry. I understand why the end of my poem is the part responders like, however, what grabbed me the most was looking into the eyes of the dark seducer and kissing her on the mouth.
So much packed into a smallish space. I got such a kick out of the "disfigured heads and legs" part. Dogs are not respecters of super heroes. I wrote this with a G.I. Joe in it. Hope you like it. Wes https://westonpparker.substack.com/p/when-the-snow-settles
I started this Substack in January with the goal of writing and sharing 100 poems over the course of the year and with an invitation to others to join me for as much of that challenge as they’d like (hence all the poems that people share in the comments thread). It’s been so much fun connecting with other poets and getting to read their poems, though, that I’ll definitely be continuing next year, probably at about the same pace.
What a delightful joy this prompt and poem is, and you are! I’ve been away and have missed you all and especially the life, love, ❤️ light and spirit you breathe into everything you share. 🥰
Yay for laughing out loud! I've been feeling like I want to bring humor into my poems more often. I'm pretty silly and snarky in real life, so why not let that into my poems, too?
Lisa, what have you done?!? You have unleashed an epic in me. I had to really work to keep this poem from being a million lines long. I was totally charmed to realize that I had the same amount of Cabbage Patch Kids as I do actual children (the non Toys 'R' Us variety).
.
Cabbage Patch Kids
.
My first was a bald-headed boy named Rusty
blue eyes more like my mother’s than mine.
His sweet tucked-in smile swims in my brain
a memory fish.
.
Lucinda had dark hair, a pink gingham dress.
When I undid her massive ponytail
the heavy yarn of her hair fell aside
betraying a smooth bald head.
.
Erica appeared on Christmas morning
mouth pursed around a yellow pacifier.
My mother stitched a blue bassinet
and I tucked her in, whispering shhhh.
.
Melanie traveled to my house from Scotland
wearing a kilt and a furry little belt
plus a passport. Xavier Roberts cackled deeply
from his mountain of eighties money.
.
Meredith arrived next, a bonneted baby
but she was made smaller than the rest
with a bean bag sewn in her bottom
to give her a soft, precious heft.
.
Fiona had cornsilk hair, brushable and red
her clothes hip and fitted. She was the last
before Barbie usurped all play for years
with her hot-pink pencil skirts
and infrequent flights to the moon.
.
Most friends stopped at one or two Cabbage Patch Kids.
"Xavier Roberts cackled deeply / from his mountain of eighties money!" 😂😂😂 Oh my goodness, I'm cackling with him. Thank you for that. And "memory fish" is so delightful. This is such fun, Margaret Ann! I was glad to get to read every line of it.
I’m so glad you got a kick out of it! It made me laugh to write it—I was so completely re-absorbed in my CPK-saturated childhood. Your prompts are so good! (I know I always say that, but it needs to be said repeatedly.)
I actually had a stanza about my guilt about having so many (which I still kind of feel). I reassured myself that it was okay because they were always gifts or bought with gift money, but there’s also no denying that I had a very privileged childhood (insert embarrassed face here, since my emoticons aren’t working).
I had an obscene number of Barbies and a huge wooden house made specifically for them by my mother’s carpenter friend - complete with real carpeting, different paint colors for ever room, and laminate flooring in the kitchen. So I wasn’t exactly suffering!
Oh my goodness, that is the TRUE Barbie Dream House!!! One of my sisters and I would set up massive towns of different Barbie “houses” but they were mostly just on our desks and floor.
Mine were Carole Meredith (obtained by my faithful mother at Christmas by waiting in the predawn hours for the shipment at Walmart) and later I got Ray Barclay. The “preemie” doll.
I pupated in a navy blue
Members Only jacket,
showed the world nothing
but larval tomboy
for the whole of fifth grade.
But inside I softened,
curved like a
question mark.
.
When gravity eased its grip,
I unzipped,
stepping out in a blaze
of makeup and denim,
with voluminous wings
for hair.
I love this, especially the image of “voluminous wings for hair.” So delightful!
What a delightful, evocative poem! I am glad you stepped out and brought the other pieces either you! And, Rebekah, like Keith does, you often have me looking up a word-pupate this poem! Thank you!
Love it! Makeup and denim and those wings of hair sound very familiar.
The metaphorical 80s-90s butterfly is delightful 🦋
Such a delicious juxtaposition of contrasts: Book of Mormon as ticket to heaven and She-ra as ticket to self-reclamation :))
***
Just thinking of them now,
my psyche goes retrograde.
Backstroking to some pre-verbal space,
a near-forgotten place
where the language of the tactile and sensory
spoke and cued and
either poked or soothed,
depending.
That pair of simple baby blankets,
with their silky smooth borders and
stretchy lumps of snowy middle
snuggled me through double digits.
Until like my soft child spirit,
puberty gutted them without flinching,
leaving them riddled with holes,
hanging on by a thread.
What a relatable and heart rending turn - "Until like my soft child spirit, puberty gutted them without flinching." You manage to convey so much through the images of these blankets. ❤️
Oh I can just see and feel those blankets in my minds eye. We have a little boy that comes into prek everyday thumb firmly in mouth and blanket in grasp.
Aging
How is it intimate
To share the ignominious
Withering of the body facade
With the dribbling
Of the corpus sea water while
Counting the red and blue webs
Stricken on the pale
Isn't it better to look
Into the eyes of the dark seducer
And without blink of nerve
Kiss her full on the mouth
No more lamenting the continuous
Never changing of the always changing
Looking back and missing the now
"No more lamenting the continuous / Never changing of the always changing" - what gorgeous lines! Thank you for sharing, Jim.
Thank you.
Ohhh I love that line too. And looking back and missing the now. Wise words.
This is splendid, Jim. A wonderful and creative perspective on aging.
Thank you Larry. I understand why the end of my poem is the part responders like, however, what grabbed me the most was looking into the eyes of the dark seducer and kissing her on the mouth.
That is truly brilliant, Jim!
So much packed into a smallish space. I got such a kick out of the "disfigured heads and legs" part. Dogs are not respecters of super heroes. I wrote this with a G.I. Joe in it. Hope you like it. Wes https://westonpparker.substack.com/p/when-the-snow-settles
What a charming world, all living within a single poem (and on a single shelf)!
Thanks Lisa. By the way, what does your "100 Poems" refer to?
I started this Substack in January with the goal of writing and sharing 100 poems over the course of the year and with an invitation to others to join me for as much of that challenge as they’d like (hence all the poems that people share in the comments thread). It’s been so much fun connecting with other poets and getting to read their poems, though, that I’ll definitely be continuing next year, probably at about the same pace.
Thanks. Might have to update the name to 200. 😉
Very nice Weston. So many worlds coexisting.
Thank you Karri.
Number one. Had Shera as well. Only way I would play with my brother is if I had my own action figures.
Number two. My girls saw the movie soul surfer and evermore declared the Barbie with the chewed off arm to be the main character.
Number three. Swap out that Book of Mormon for. KJV bible and we were the same. Had to have that insurance policy.
Haha, I love that idea of an “insurance policy!” 😂 And apparently I’m going to need to watch the movie Soul Surfers.
What a delightful joy this prompt and poem is, and you are! I’ve been away and have missed you all and especially the life, love, ❤️ light and spirit you breathe into everything you share. 🥰
We have missed you, too, Larry! I was wondering about you and am glad to see you here again!
Thank you for wondering while I was wandering!
Love this. The right hand clenching the ticket - the cape of the left hand - such perfect images, Lisa!
Thank you so much, Lindsey! It was a fun little walk down memory lane to write this.
The second stanza made me laugh out loud. What a perfect turn!
Yay for laughing out loud! I've been feeling like I want to bring humor into my poems more often. I'm pretty silly and snarky in real life, so why not let that into my poems, too?
I love this, Lisa, and the ending is perfect! She-Ra! What a contrast, the Book of Mormon and She-Ra!
I guess I contain multitudes. 😂
This poem is delightful (and of course the prompt).
Thank you, Margaret! I had fun writing it.
Lisa, what have you done?!? You have unleashed an epic in me. I had to really work to keep this poem from being a million lines long. I was totally charmed to realize that I had the same amount of Cabbage Patch Kids as I do actual children (the non Toys 'R' Us variety).
.
Cabbage Patch Kids
.
My first was a bald-headed boy named Rusty
blue eyes more like my mother’s than mine.
His sweet tucked-in smile swims in my brain
a memory fish.
.
Lucinda had dark hair, a pink gingham dress.
When I undid her massive ponytail
the heavy yarn of her hair fell aside
betraying a smooth bald head.
.
Erica appeared on Christmas morning
mouth pursed around a yellow pacifier.
My mother stitched a blue bassinet
and I tucked her in, whispering shhhh.
.
Melanie traveled to my house from Scotland
wearing a kilt and a furry little belt
plus a passport. Xavier Roberts cackled deeply
from his mountain of eighties money.
.
Meredith arrived next, a bonneted baby
but she was made smaller than the rest
with a bean bag sewn in her bottom
to give her a soft, precious heft.
.
Fiona had cornsilk hair, brushable and red
her clothes hip and fitted. She was the last
before Barbie usurped all play for years
with her hot-pink pencil skirts
and infrequent flights to the moon.
.
Most friends stopped at one or two Cabbage Patch Kids.
I had six. I wanted just one more—maybe two—
each time I gathered them in my arms.
"Xavier Roberts cackled deeply / from his mountain of eighties money!" 😂😂😂 Oh my goodness, I'm cackling with him. Thank you for that. And "memory fish" is so delightful. This is such fun, Margaret Ann! I was glad to get to read every line of it.
I’m so glad you got a kick out of it! It made me laugh to write it—I was so completely re-absorbed in my CPK-saturated childhood. Your prompts are so good! (I know I always say that, but it needs to be said repeatedly.)
Thank you, Margaret! I was always jealous of the girls who had cabbage patch kids. I had only one, I think, and she was a hand me down.
I actually had a stanza about my guilt about having so many (which I still kind of feel). I reassured myself that it was okay because they were always gifts or bought with gift money, but there’s also no denying that I had a very privileged childhood (insert embarrassed face here, since my emoticons aren’t working).
I had an obscene number of Barbies and a huge wooden house made specifically for them by my mother’s carpenter friend - complete with real carpeting, different paint colors for ever room, and laminate flooring in the kitchen. So I wasn’t exactly suffering!
Oh my goodness, that is the TRUE Barbie Dream House!!! One of my sisters and I would set up massive towns of different Barbie “houses” but they were mostly just on our desks and floor.
Mine were Carole Meredith (obtained by my faithful mother at Christmas by waiting in the predawn hours for the shipment at Walmart) and later I got Ray Barclay. The “preemie” doll.
I love it! I’m so impressed that you remember their middle names. I think my mom had to wait at Toys ‘R’ Us for our first CPKs.