This is so sweet, A, and brought up so many tender memories for me. It also makes me think about the wider world and that maybe we are all like your son, just wanting our wounds to be seen and gently tended.
I love the idea of your soothing your son being just as therapeutic for you as for him -- and it giving you hope for the bigger problems, too. Lovely, A!
A., in some inexplicable way, those kisses do heal! The power of love ❤️ rises from the source through word, actions, thoughts, intention and witness. Keep being the healing force that you are!
l love that so many animals make an appearance in this poem - the flying ones in your head and the running ones around you. I could feel myself soften from that bees-in-the-head place to the watching-my-dog-romp-in-the-yard place as I read. So good!
Thank you, Lisa 💛. I’ve been thinking a lot about this prompt since I read it. I’m hoping I can shape this poem into something at some point, but Election Day jitters are getting the better of me right now.
I love this Margaret Ann! Like Lisa, the wonderful appearance of snimals adds such light and depth to your poem, and reflects vividly on the uncertainty the human in the poem faces. Such a nice poetic work of art!
Like A, I really love and can relate to that switch from map to compass! And what a beautiful ending - "I still throw my head back / to the night sky / and savor its unnavigability, / its promise of / nothing."
I love how you switch from the map - something already clearly planned out for you - to following a compass with your own unique "true" north. I've felt that same shift.
I love this so much, Rebekah! So many wonderful lines! "Whose red arrow was stuck on/ adventure." "But my needle must have/ gotten greased by some/ well-meaning elder" this truly made me laugh! And your superb ending: "I still throw my head back/ to the night sky?
and savor its unnavigability,/its promise of/ nothing." That is true creative genius! I like the way your poems hold together with so much powerful wisdom in them. I hope to read them, with certainty and uncertainty, for a long time to come.
Sometimes we need to walk even when we can see where we are going, yes? I'm glad you got your car back - what a journey! This topic is a good one for me because uncertainty is my nemesis and he and I are forced into company lately.
Thank you, Karri!! It felt like a loooong journey, and I'm glad to be on the other side of it. I'm wishing you tasty appetizers or good music or whatever else will make it palatable to endure the presence of uncertainty, chattering away at your side.
Thank you, Larry, and I'm so excited to have just learned from Rebekah that you are I are birthday buddies! I actually think you're the first person I've ever (knowingly) met who has the same birthday as me. I can't imagine a better human to share today with! I hope it's a happy one for you. 🎂
This is very poignant and powerful, Karrie. It reads so real and raw, so loving and so clear eyed pragmatic. I can feel the uncertainty so that when it is the last word, it is exceptinally perfect for the feeling and mood. Thank you!
We worked at the election polling place today, registering same day voters in our University town--and there are a lot of them. A friend asked me after our shifts were done "what do you think? What;s your take on how it will go down?" "I have no clue," was all I could muster.
Out of it all came this poem, more inspired by my threshold birthday yesterday than the election.
A Pirate Looks at 70 😊
^
Another river to cross,
a new hill to climb.
Ready to pile another decade
onto the chest of memories
lying ambivalently in the corner
of my hectic mind,
my hopeful heart,
my curious spirit,
my anxious soul.
The door opens whether I am
Ready or not.
Looking back, the footprints
are already fading.
Standing still never works for a restless poet.
I move forward, ready for the next new poem to find me.
I don't know if my 3-year-old really believes
that my kisses heal his boo-boos, but I know
he comes to me with every bump and bruise,
his arm or toe or chin held out to wait for me
to kiss them, to make it okay again.
.
There are so many problems
I cannot solve, so much uncertainty,
but I know I can kiss this bit of pain away,
and something about that makes me feel like
maybe I can face the rest of it.
This is so sweet, A, and brought up so many tender memories for me. It also makes me think about the wider world and that maybe we are all like your son, just wanting our wounds to be seen and gently tended.
I love the idea of your soothing your son being just as therapeutic for you as for him -- and it giving you hope for the bigger problems, too. Lovely, A!
Yes, the healing power of love - what a sweet poem!
A., in some inexplicable way, those kisses do heal! The power of love ❤️ rises from the source through word, actions, thoughts, intention and witness. Keep being the healing force that you are!
I don't want to know
what comes after my last breath.
Its my favorite what.
Beautiful mystery
I love this so much! I think that is also my favorite what.
A "favorite what" indeed! May our last breaths be blessed and bathed in love.
I'm so glad your car is repaired. Those last two lines really got to me.
Uncertainty feels like
.
The lid of my head has lifted
and invited in butterflies, and birds
and bats, and bees, just for the buzz
.
so that even when I sleep, they rustle
fighting for space. My hands shake
and my eyes fill with tears at weird times.
.
Still, the cat chases her fake fur mouse
all over my room, stalking it as if it
might bite back, and our dog rushes
.
to the yard to bark at passing squirrels,
at people walking beyond the fence
at a strong breeze that lifts the branches.
.
They aren’t sure of their survival
in the face of such dangers. But they
battle, bat, bark anyway.
l love that so many animals make an appearance in this poem - the flying ones in your head and the running ones around you. I could feel myself soften from that bees-in-the-head place to the watching-my-dog-romp-in-the-yard place as I read. So good!
Thank you, Lisa 💛. I’ve been thinking a lot about this prompt since I read it. I’m hoping I can shape this poem into something at some point, but Election Day jitters are getting the better of me right now.
I am right here jittering with you!
Me too, Lisa and Margaret Ann!
I love this Margaret Ann! Like Lisa, the wonderful appearance of snimals adds such light and depth to your poem, and reflects vividly on the uncertainty the human in the poem faces. Such a nice poetic work of art!
Thank you, Larry—I really appreciate that.
At 19, I wadded up the map
I’d been raised on, the one that
foretold my path through this life
and the next, and switched
to a compass
whose red arrow was stuck on
adventure.
.
I hitchhiked to Canada,
slept under a bridge,
dropped acid with strangers,
ditched school and
moved to Montana by train
with eleven dollars and
eleven cents, and called that
plenty.
.
But my needle must have
gotten greased by some
well-meaning elder,
for soon it nudged me
toward a degree and a paycheck
then fully around the rose
to a family and even
a mortgage.
.
Lest you think uncertainty
has given me the slip, though:
I still sprawl into Saturdays
with nothing planned.
I still throw my head back
to the night sky
and savor its unnavigability,
its promise of
nothing.
Like A, I really love and can relate to that switch from map to compass! And what a beautiful ending - "I still throw my head back / to the night sky / and savor its unnavigability, / its promise of / nothing."
I love how you switch from the map - something already clearly planned out for you - to following a compass with your own unique "true" north. I've felt that same shift.
I love this so much, Rebekah! So many wonderful lines! "Whose red arrow was stuck on/ adventure." "But my needle must have/ gotten greased by some/ well-meaning elder" this truly made me laugh! And your superb ending: "I still throw my head back/ to the night sky?
and savor its unnavigability,/its promise of/ nothing." That is true creative genius! I like the way your poems hold together with so much powerful wisdom in them. I hope to read them, with certainty and uncertainty, for a long time to come.
Thank you Larry -- what lovely words from you.
Special 100 Poems PSA: Happy birthday to our own Lisa (Jensen) and Larry (Brickner-Wood) today! So cool that you two are birthday buddies!
Awwww thank you - and I'm so delighted to find out that Larry is my birthday buddy!
Happy birthday to Lisa and Larry!
Thank you so much! 💕
What a wonderful coincidence! Happy birthday, Lisa and Larry! 🧡
Thank you!! 💚
Sometimes we need to walk even when we can see where we are going, yes? I'm glad you got your car back - what a journey! This topic is a good one for me because uncertainty is my nemesis and he and I are forced into company lately.
Thank you, Karri!! It felt like a loooong journey, and I'm glad to be on the other side of it. I'm wishing you tasty appetizers or good music or whatever else will make it palatable to endure the presence of uncertainty, chattering away at your side.
Thank you Lisa! I am so glad you got your vehicle back. Safe journey Jo e and thank you for managing to get a poem and prompt out! You are amazing!
Thank you, Larry, and I'm so excited to have just learned from Rebekah that you are I are birthday buddies! I actually think you're the first person I've ever (knowingly) met who has the same birthday as me. I can't imagine a better human to share today with! I hope it's a happy one for you. 🎂
Learning we are birthday kindreds brings a giant smile to my face and heart! What a wonderful world this is! Happy Birthday Scorpio sister! 🧑
Now I know why you’ve felt like a brother to me this whole time!
A giant smile from here! 😃😀😄
I'm with Larry on your amazingness 💛.
You all are so good for my ego! Which might be bad???
Ha! Never 😊.
Your humility will balance it all just fine! 😃
"I still can't see two steps ahead" is so relatable. I hope your drive back is calm and uneventful!
Thank you so much! Thankfully, it was.
We sit side by side; you and I
Concrete floors
Dust on every surface.
I suppose we’ve reached an uneasy truce
Tenuous
And rather fragile.
You stay out of my head
And I’ll get out of bed
And live in this chaos around me.
You’ll always be here
I might as well learn
How to live beside you.
Uncertainty.
Uneasy truce
The war now more covert
As true working together
May not have ever
Existed except in the fantasies
Of those believing in hope
This is very poignant and powerful, Karrie. It reads so real and raw, so loving and so clear eyed pragmatic. I can feel the uncertainty so that when it is the last word, it is exceptinally perfect for the feeling and mood. Thank you!
We worked at the election polling place today, registering same day voters in our University town--and there are a lot of them. A friend asked me after our shifts were done "what do you think? What;s your take on how it will go down?" "I have no clue," was all I could muster.
Out of it all came this poem, more inspired by my threshold birthday yesterday than the election.
A Pirate Looks at 70 😊
^
Another river to cross,
a new hill to climb.
Ready to pile another decade
onto the chest of memories
lying ambivalently in the corner
of my hectic mind,
my hopeful heart,
my curious spirit,
my anxious soul.
The door opens whether I am
Ready or not.
Looking back, the footprints
are already fading.
Standing still never works for a restless poet.
I move forward, ready for the next new poem to find me.