Formative To Phobia – #NaPoWriMo23 – Day 19

#NaPoWriMo23, Childhood, Parenting, Random poetry 2 Comments »

Hi 🙂

It’s Day 19 of NaPoWriMo and I didn’t have to think too deeply for the answer to this prompt:

“For this challenge, start by reading Marlanda Dekine’s poem “My Grandma Told Stories or Cautionary Tales.” One common feature of childhood is the monsters. The ones under the bed or in the closet; the odd local monsters that other kids swear roam the creek at night, or that parents say wait to steal away naughty children that don’t go to bed on time. Now, cast your mind back to your own childhood and write a poem about something that scared you – or was used to scare you – and which still haunts you (if only a little bit) today.” [from here]

I spent my first few years in a multi-generational household 😉

 

When I was young

I sucked my thumb.

Not seen

then

as sensory input,

or self-soothing,

my Great Grandmother would

shout “MUSH!!”:

to remind me that said thumb

was saliva-soluble

past a certain

(undefined, but always close)

point.

 

Cobwebs congregated in my nostrils too,

apparently.

Luckily, I didn’t

dwell

on that image too much

until later in life.

(They were probably left

by the arachnids accused

of messing up my tresses

every time I’d woken

from deep sleep.)

 

Below are three pictures of my Great Grandmother (my maternal grandmother’s mum…).  The first is from circa the early 1920s with her family (two sisters, two brothers and her parents) she’s second from the left. The next picture would have been taken in late 1933/ early 1934 (if we assume the baby in her lap is my maternal Grandmother) and the third picture is as I knew her; it must have been taken in the early 1980s as we moved from that house in the summer of 1986, when I was 8 and a half, but she lived into her (and the early 19-)90s so I visited her into my teens.

 

 

I am glad there has been much more research into how we can build our children up so they are less ruled by fears, doubts about their appearance, and shame around honoring their own needs and interests that mean they may take longer than their peers to achieve milestones; or just may have diverse functional abilities in certain areas that they will need to work with for the rest of their lives. 

Child development and how our perceptions of ‘normal’ have evolved through the centuries is an area I never really tire of reading/hearing about.  It’s fascinating…but can also be very overwhelming, especially as a parent currently at the teen/tween stages (feeling like she is the receptacle for many generations’ first-hand accounts and child rearing examples) who ‘should’ know the best way to deal with any given situation by now, but inevitably fails a lot 😉 The more I parent, the more it becomes infinitely clear that there is no one-size-fits-all strategy, because each child is an individual – even in the womb! – and I am still growing and evolving, as is the society in which we live.

Annnyyyywaaay – catch you for Day 20!

 

Monty X

 

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Bearing Fruit – #NaPoWriMo23 – Day 17

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Hey 🙂


Hmmm, again today’s NaPoWriMo prompt stymied me:


“Begin by reading Sayuri Ayers’ poem “In the Season of Pink Ladies.” A pretty common piece of writing advice is that poets should know, and use, the precise names for things. Don’t say flower when you can say daisy. Don’t say bird when you mean a hawk. Today’s challenge asks you to write a poem that contains the name of a specific variety of edible plant – preferably one that grows in your area…In the poem, try to make a specific comparison between some aspect of the plant’s lifespan and your own – or the life of someone close to you. Also, include at least one repeating phrase.” [From here]

But then I wrote the below up to “flavour” and decided to have a wee Google…

 

I will not wither on this vine:

Too busy blushing

To be tossed into

The salad of life.

I will not wither on this vine,

Shaking with the scandals

They spoke through me.

I’ll grow boldly,

Full of flavour,

Festooning golden nuggets;

Blue Beauty at it’s best.

 

I got the last two lines by looking up tomato varieties, and found “Golden Nugget” and “Blue Beauty” were featured as seed types on Ebay! Isn’t the internet grand?!

(I had most of my 3 years’ worth of hair cut off at the end of March – and dyed blue – in case I haven’t mentioned that, hence the last line made me grin 😉 ).

Annnd onwards to Day 18…!

 

Monty X

 

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The Answer, My Friend… – #NaPoWriMo23 – Day 16

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Hi!

I struggled with the prompt for Day 16:

“I challenge you to write a poem that involves describing something in terms of what it is not, or not like.” [from here]

After a few attempts at describing other intangible things, I settled on the below.

 

I am not made to be still,
Or seen,
Or tamed.
I may not be gentle
Or properly predictable.
Nothing can defend against me
When I am angry.
You will not find me under a microscope
Don’t trust me to fly with you
With respect.

 

Let’s hope Day 17’s prompt inspires me more 😉 see you there…

 

Monty X

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Who You Calling Punk? – #NaPoWriMo23 – Day 15

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Hiya 🙂

“Begin by reading June Jordan’s “Notes on the Peanut.” Now, think of a person – real or imagined – who has been held out to you as an example of how to be of live, but who you have always had doubts about. Write a poem that exaggerates the supposedly admirable qualities of the person in a way that exposes your doubts.” Said Maureen Thorson on the NaPo site for Day 15.

I was listening to punk rock on a random Spotify playlist last night, and wrote the poem before lunchtime (though only posting now) so I wrote to a beat in my head and ended up with a kind of ‘chorusy’ repeating bit, too 😉 I keep hearing the tune (an amalgamation of the ones I was listening to) when I read it, so I’m not sure if it works as a ‘proper’ poem, but meh *shrugs*.

 

I leap out of bed on the first ring

(Can’t sleep past 6 for anything)

Minimal home, yeah I can’t wait

To find ten more things I can donate

 

“Messy home, messy mind,

Messy life all the time”

How can anyone be

Any diff’rent to me?

 

All of our meals from our pantry

Always on top of the laundry

Clipping coupons, strict planning

Vegetable gardens and canning

 

“Messy home, messy mind,

Messy life all the time”,

Why can’t everyone see

That they’re being lazy?

 

Home schooled kids often out playing

Set times for reading and praying

Chores evenly spread among the

Bright, polite kids – they’re happy. 

 

“Messy home, messy mind

Messy life all the time!!”

How can anyone be

Tot’lly diff’rent to me?

 

I flog a course now, I’ll help you

Discipline yourself, break through:

I’ll send the ad to your email –

“400 dollars! You won’t fail!”

 

“Messy home, messy mind

Messy life all the time!!”

 

You’re tot’lly diff’rent to me

So just live ‘n’ let be 😉

 

So that’s the halfway mark zipped past!  Hopefully I’ll keep my steam going for the next 15 days…meet you back here tomorrow! 

 

Monty X

 

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Stepping Out – #NaPoWriMo23 – Day 14

#NaPoWriMo23, Other Poetry, Random poetry 4 Comments »

Hey 🙂

It’s Day 14 of NaPoWriMo!! I’ve caught up 😛

“Today, I challenge you to write a parody or satire based on a famous poem…take a favorite (or unfavorite) poem of the past, and see if you can’t re-write it on humorous, mocking, or sharp-witted lines.” [from here]

I did make myself guffaw a little too much while ‘fouling up’ Lord Byron’s first verse to She Walks In Beauty 😀 (I add a warning here that there is one, particularly Scottish-sounding, rude word in there…)

 

She steps in doody, and her plight

Of grassy kerb and woeful cry’s

All that’s infernal with the night:

Its disrespect and scornful eyes

Thus amplified by smelly s**te,

Avoidance of which heaven denies.

 

I kept the sounds at the end of the lines, the rhyming scheme and also the syllable count, so hopefully it works for you. 

Here is Byron’s original verse if you want to compare 😉

 

“She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.”

 

So, I only made a few changes…!

Tomorrow is half way through NaPoWriMo, which seems crazy. Catch you then…

 

Monty X

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On Mothering – #NaPoWriMo23 – Day 13

#NaPoWriMo23, Mental Health, Other Poetry, Parenting, Random poetry No Comments »

Hello 🙂

“Now, try writing a short poem (or a few, if you’re inspired) that follows the beats of a classic joke. Emphasize the interplay between the form of the poem – such as the line breaks – and the punchline.” [from here]

 

Motherhood:

The season where

You add weight to the little things;

And lots of little things,

In their turn,

Tip the scales for you.

 

Take the above as you will 😉

 

Onwards, to Day 14! Where is this month going?!

 

Monty X

 

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Parroty – #NaPoWriMo23 – Day 12

#NaPoWriMo23, Random poetry 1 Comment »

Hi!

“Today, I challenge you to write a poem that addresses itself or some aspect of its self” [from here]

So, for Day 12 I wrote the first thing that popped into my head:

 

Pretty poem

Preeee-tty  poem

Whatcha doin’ doin’ doin’,

HUH??

Hugo huffed hugely

Hugo! Hugo!

Pretty poetry parrot

Pray pretty prickly proud prude.

No one understands you!

Do you even care?

Huffy, huffy, Hugo

Huffy, fluffy, scruffy, Hugo

Want a sunflower seed?

Silly sausage, soppy silly sausage

Give us a silly song.

You want out your cage?

Hello Hugo,

Hello, hello,

Fluffy fellow.

Scruffy fluffy.

Where’ve you gone?

 

Nonsense, eh?! See what too much decluttering and having the kids about for over a week has done to me?!

I’m even having to backdate this post (and probably my offering for Day 13…) as I am struggling to manage my days properly over here.   Never mind, I always miss everyone when we get back into the school routines, so a little tardiness against the backdrop of more boy cuddles and chat is not a calamity really 😉

Back soon…!

 

Monty X

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Cute Calamity – #NaPoWriMo23 – Day 11

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Hiya 😊

It’s Day 11 already!

“This prompt challenges you to play around with the idea of overheard language. First, take a look at Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem “One Boy Told Me.”…Now,  write a poem that takes as its starting point something overheard that made you laugh, or something someone told you once that struck you as funny.” [from here]

 

“…an’ I fell oder

An’ I hurt my knee…

An’ it’s my favrit knee, you know?”

The big brown eyes tilt up,

With trust – complete conviction

That I’m going to make it better.

I watch as the little hands scrabble

To proffer the bloodied scratch,

And I ask if I can kiss

A patch just underneath.

The smile is instant,

Delighted,

There’s a small giggle as I

Plant my lips to undamaged soft skin.

Then we hunt for a plaster

And both grimace as we quickly dab

With a medicated wipe

Before the covering.

He takes my face in his palms,

Squeezing slightly,

Looks deep into my eyes:

“fank oo, mummy”

Then he changes out of nursery clothes

And back to homely garb.

 

Just a quick write today, but a sweet little memory that was on my mind yesterday whilst  supervising Youngest sorting through a box of random things to see whether he still wanted them in his room.  Our children are growing fast, it is so bittersweet going through all their stages with them!

Catch you tomorrow for NaPo Day 12 😊

 

Monty X

 

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Literary Liaisons – #NaPoWriMo23 – Day 9

#NaPoWriMo23, Other Poetry, Random poetry, Relationships No Comments »

Good morrow, dear reader!

I did write in response to Day 9’s prompt, but I didn’t leave enough time for me to compose this post and get it up on the blog.  Better late than never though, eh?

Day 9’s prompt was:

“Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own sonnet. Incorporate tradition as much or as little as you like – while keeping in general to the theme of “love.”” [from here

I decided to keep the easier rhyming scheme of abab,cdcd,efef,gg and the ten beats/syllables to a line.

 

I write my love a note upon the pad,

He answers by editing what I’ve said,

So then, attempting not to feel too bad,

I tussle with our diff’rences in bed.

A pillow is the perfect place to pose

A question to the better half of me;

He sighs, only pretending there to dose,

As he adds weight to all my fantasies.

 

His whispers shape the ink of wordplay wrought

‘Tween motherhood and wifely life combined,

He teases out experience and thought,

Untethers folds that strive to make me blind.

 

His airy presence keeps me sane and strange,

Our shared dreamscapes the only things that change.

 

As I often do, I was thinking about the way I write, and the conversational poem with my Muse that  I started my blogging adventures with.  Hopefully that is somewhat clear in my Sonnet, for I often feel like I am sneaking off to indulge in creativity, and that it wants to abduct me like some jealous lover I have never been able to resist 😉 and yes, I will happily sit for hours, propped up by pillows, scribbling, tapping, or crafting away in my PJs if left to my own devices.  I am a transient table user in these days of having my own family to tend to.

If you want to look at any other poems I’ve written in the Sonnet form, you can see them here (which is another study of being pulled towards creativity, incidentally) and here.  Hopefully I’ll be back later today for Day 10’s poetic ponderings!

Take care,

 

Monty X

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All Dutch To Me – #NaPoWriMo23 – Day 6

#NaPoWriMo, #NaPoWriMo23, Random poetry 4 Comments »

Good Day!

Welcome to my Day 6 attempt at meeting the NaPo prompt.  Well…my FIFTH attempt at meeting this prompt, actually! Let me explain what I was asked to do…

“Take a look around Poetry International for a poem in a language you don’t know… Now, read the poem to yourself, thinking about the sound and shape of the words, and the degree to which they remind you of words in your own language. Use those correspondences as the basis for a new poem.” [from here]

So I tried poems from a few languages, but then decided to go with this Dutch poem by Eva Gerlach. What came out was not what I usually would advocate! I blame this violent turn on the fact that my newly-ten year old was playing a beat-em-up game on the opposite side of the table from me! (plus ‘het’ repeatedly appeared in the original poem, of course…)

I’ve screenshot the original poem below:

 

One can hit from habit and hit

With heft or as if green.  Hit

 

Not at all or with attitude

To mar or just warn away

 

Hope. He is nothing.

The hit times the hitter’s goals. Mar

 

Some in calm violence, like you’re being hit still,

The stand I know I took means nothing, opt

 

To tip toe when you come. Grief. It nicks,

Making all beg for tangible reckoning.

 

(Goals can’t redeem us while they wane)

A hit is virtuous.

 

I don’t know if it even works as a poem, but I must confess that after trying to make five other poems bend to my will, off and on for hours, I am TIRED 😉  I don’t remember the writing being this hard  the last time I tackled a similar prompt but having read the ramble around that poem, it seems I did find it a bit daunting after all!

Anyway, see you tomorrow for Day 7 where I’ll be trying to write around our Eldest celebrating becoming a teenager!  We now have two kids sporting double figures – and increasing attitude – eeek! 😉

 

Monty X

 

 

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