A Net in Time

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poety

Who is my influence?

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Boldly going where no one has gone before.
or not

As I think about the word influence, nothing comes to me beyond a vague wondering… what influences me? What shapes my words and actions. How do I put into words this vague fogginess of wondering?

Who is my influence? What makes an influence in my life?

Coming up unawares
I didn’t really notice until
I was mid-way through my 20’s
and I heard my mother’s words coming out of my mouth.
It shocked me.
Startling me into silence.
I hadn’t intended to ever sound like my mother.

Don’t misunderstand
My love for my mom runs fierce.
But teen years arguments and yelling
filled the spaces between us.
And yet, her words and her wisdom
keep flooding through my voice.
But memories sometimes
Fill my heart with pain.

I work best all on my own
I’ve known this to be true
Handed down from my father
Independently minded, not dealing well
with the pressures of others.
Along with a tisk and harumph
when things weren’t done right.

Shades of my father
pour through when I talk with my lad.
Sometimes he’s as lost as I was at his age
when a tisk and harumph
Make there way, but…
Unlike his mother my lad is bold and persistent
What Mom, why that noise?
And so my boy and I learn to
Actually WORK together,
talking, laughing, learning.

A blow to the gut
A whack upside the head
A pile and laughter and choking
So alone I feel
the butt of all jokes.
This influences me, even today some
(gasp) 50 years later.
Reminds me often, that life
Isn’t fair but it is manageable.

A cord runs through
One that helps me continually
To seek a different perspective.
A cord that holds me
And reminds me repeatedly
Because memories of anger and shouting
Hold me away sometimes
Yelling at God WHY why did you make me this way.

And he calls
and he holds and
he ALWAYS reminds.
Seek me, find me.
Part of the proof
That you are mine
And Never shall I let you Go
And never shall you be ever alone.

Influence like that
Runs deep.
Influence like that
Lets me love a boy child something fierce
Lets me hold a hubby close
Lets me remember family is ever important.

Influence, ah… surprises.



Won’t you join us in the five minute Friday writing community?  We are a fun group and Miss Kate is our leader.   This week the word is Influence. 

Vacation Starts

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“MOM!”
“Yes my boy” was my quiet response
“Do I need to do school on my birthday?”

I grinned, turned asking,
“Tell me, what do you think?”
“Tell based on how this week has gone.”

A frown of concentration
creased his brow.
Remembering, thinking back.

“NO” he burst out with a wild grin
“No school on my birthday”.
A day I can do what I want!

“When do I get my presents?”
“When do you want them” I rejoined.
“Tomorrow or when family comes?”

“When family comes!”
Was the instant response.
“I can wait, it’s fun all at once.”

This, the first of three birthdays.
When I consider the start of our vacationing days.
Even if, this year, no weeks away camping.

Even if, this year, staycation is the word.
Even if, this year, friends pools we borrow.
Boys visit and entertain. New friends to make.

The trailer will sit, till October at least.
Road construction removes the bite.
God works it all out.

But over the summer
When birthday season comes
Vacation smiles upon us.
And it is good.

image of my son, words Vacation starts
OH!   This is a word prompt post hosted by Kate! In case you couldn’t figure it, the word prompt is vacation.

Return From Returning

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Today’s Five Minute Friday word prompt is “return“. Return, to come home, to got back to the original place, to put something back.   I’m curious to see what others will write about this topic as I can see it going in a variety of directions don’t you?

Poem based on word return, return from returning

Netherlands born,
Dutch speaking it’s true.
Dutch friends,
Dutch community,
In a new land far from home.

My mother was brave,
crossing the sea.
Looking for more,
could she soar?

Work began in a neighbourhood store
Serving the community
Learning English a chore.

A tall handsome man
Soon made his way clear
before too long a wedding my dear.
One child, two, three and one more
just as you blinked
a half dozen rounded the score

Three girls and three boys
a nice even bunch
boys to help farm,
girls to cook lunch.

The Dutchies they’d come
for a full score.
Every few years
Connections through lore.
stories and fun
marshmallows, hotdogs, firepit, dropjes
good visits to be had

Mom’s joy knew no bounds when
these visits occurred.
and then, once in a spell
She’d return home to them.

Always a flight,
Always a stay,
a week to 10 days she’d go away.
And then
Always true
Home to family she’d fly
Filled full of love,
Filled high to the sky.

OH…the stories to tell
family and cats
oh ick on the table?
Places seen, friendships renewed…
So good to see the grins and the pleasure
A return from returning.

Stuck Fast

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One of the meanings of the word stuck is “adhere or cling to a substance or surface”.

You know my hubby is working at McDonald’s for a while. He’s looking to secure a better position, but in the meantime he has a family to feed you know?   Part of his work is to do the grill.

Temperatures rise
Orders come in
Quarter pounders,
Egg McMuffins
Burgers too.

Grill is sizzling
Burgers fry
Tantalizing odours
Fill the air

But hurry scurry
No time for smells
Heat them up
Cook them fast

OUCH!
Oh…that’s hot
Blisters rise
Liquid rises Fast inside

Bandaids handy
Stuck on tight
Keep that blister
Safe inside.

One learns quickly at McD’s that blisters are part of the job, and to keep the worker safe, band-aids are a must.  Uncovered blisters near a high heat source just get worse.  Safety is paramount.  It’s hard work scurrying around in the heat. We’ve learned not to discount the work of the people behind the scenes. 

stuck fast, a poem

I have to admit, part of me wants to turn this into a Be stuck on Jesus theme, but it’s not flowing into my head at the moment.   I am sure that other members of the Five Minute Friday community have come up with something more faith related.  🙂   Come join us won’t you?

Turn, a Poem of Change

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I saw the word turn come up at the Five Minute Friday page and immediately this song came to mind.

Shortly thereafter this song came to mind

It’s an interesting word isn’t it?  Turn… it’s full of hope and promise.  Something else is waiting, or a good thing is behind you, or waiting for you to discover it.   Ah yes… let us then turn, see what’s waiting won’t we?

Turn, a poem

Turn,

An act of changing direction.
A changing of one’s path.
When one’s perspective has been one way,
and then you see another vantage point
And everything changes.

Like when you have lived only for
yourself.
And then
God makes himself known to you.
and suddenly
You find yourself living for him.

When you have lived as a fisherman
a doctor
a tax collector
a zealot
a thief
a Pharisee
and then Jesus comes along.
Life changed dramatically.

See the Lord
See God clearly
And turn,
Turn and experience
a Whole New way to be.
A way that is BETTER.

Create an Image: Use Adjectives Well

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How does one add colour to their poetry?   That’s the question before us today.   Last week we learned about the importance of using strong verbs. And using good verbs is part of writing good poetry, but if those verbs don’t have words to hang on to, then all you have is emotions and action that goes nowhere.  Using good adjectives is paramount to taking your nouns and verbs into the hearts of your readers.   It is the verbs and adjectives you use that lend excellence and quality to the lines of your poetry.  “The force, power and beauty of each phrase, expression and line grow out of the poet’s use of adjective or verb or both.”  (Fairchild)

Using adjectives well helps a poet create an image that draws people in.

When a poet uses a noun in his verb, the poet isn’t thinking about the tree… he’s thinking about the colours changing, a child swinging, of whistling choruses, and safe havens for birds, of seasons passing as weathered leaves flies to the lonely honking of the winter geese.    When a poet thinks of house she brings to mind sweet memories of overbaked pies, and voices raised in shock and smoke billowing as laughter fills a room at a stove forgotten.   The gleaming black of feather falling from the sky that lifts the soul to consider angels in the heavens.   

The poet personalizes these objects he finds bringing them to life and soul, drawing in our hearts as we see the world through her eyes. Use those adjectives, show the world how you see it.  The images we make are the anchor of our poetry.  It gives our readers something to hold on to and those images will bring them back. 

Remember.. this imagery we give our readers isn’t just visual picture but a precise language the evokes any of the senses.. taste, touch, smell, sound.   Consider this: The scared rabbit has soft brown fur.  OR  Plush velvet greets my scarred hands, chocolate hues fighting for freedom.  Which sounds more inviting?  Which gives you an image you can hold in your head?

The use of sensory language is what makes the adjectives used in poetry so inviting.  They help us see the world through the eyes of the poet.  Drawing and holding us in.   Use your adjectives well.  Give them a purpose… Create an image.

Would you like to practice this skill?     If so, click here for a work sheet.