Liss at Random

Wow, the days sure do pass quickly around here! It seems a mere half hour or so ago, I was writing Day 1! Okay, enough sarcasm. Here’s the second of my catch up poems. I’m just going to keep going until I:
a. catch up, or
b. have a brain meltdown.

At which point, for either outcome, writing will cease until tomorrow.

SO! Day 2. Today’s prompt is to use an epigraph to kickstart the poem. I’ve recently fallen more in love with quotes by one Dr. Maria Montessori. Being a Montessori teacher myself, I always find her quotes to resonate with me, and help sharpen my view on how I interact with my students. So naturally, I had to include her in this poetry endeavor.

Through my Eyes

“Of all things love is the most potent.”
—Maria Montessori

Through my eyes, a cold and dreary wet day
is a memory
of splashing, laughing puddles
or snuggled together with a book and cocoa.

Through my eyes, a tragedy
is not a hopeless situation
but an opportunity to
pour myself out to you and make it better.

Through my eyes, a place
is always safe
to explore or run free
not to fear a wrong turn or mistake.

I am the strongest, and the biggest,
The most powerful and most enduring
Thing we have to fight against
Hate
Fear
War
Anger
Injustice.

Look through my eyes.

So, it’s that time of the year when half the world goes nuts doing NaNoWriMo. I am not part of that half. Half of the rest of us try to imitate such ambition in our own way, while the other half just looks at us like we’re insane. Because we are. Anyway, this year I’ve chosen NovPAD to wrap my brain around. A poem a day for 30 days. Fortunately, the folks over at Writer’s Digest are assisting with poetry prompts! Which is good, because otherwise I’d never be able to finish! Anyway, so here we go with Day 1. This is a perfect topic to start catching up, since I’m posting it on November 5th. HA!

Procrastination, I am thy Queen

Tomorrow Time and Tired
Is my army’s rallying cry
As they charge forward
To Bed.
They’ll conquer the world
Tomorrow.

My kingdom is a picturesque land
of dish mountains overlooking
gentle rolling hills of clothes
Awaiting my conquest
While I await inspiration

Like my mother coming to visit.

mightymarce:

carnivaloftherandom:

Lot of tweets saying discussing politics of last decade is in bad taste.

I disagree. When the slogan of post-9/11 was, “They hate us for our freedom.”

When the dead of 9/11 were invoked to justify war and the shredding of our constitution.

When Giuliani ran a campaign on 9/11.

Those things…

I’ve been feeling pretty conflicted today, hearing all the 9/11 coverage.  This helps express some of what I’m thinking & feeling.  I want to honor the lives lost, the brave people who helped save lives, and our troops who have continued to fight for us… and for me, part of that is making sure that we are doing them justice rather than using them to promote hate and more violence. 

mightymarce:

Fireman Donovan! (Taken with instagram)

My humble cottage pie… (Taken with instagram)

I’m not going to portray myself as a writer professionally.  It’s like a talent that refuses to be controlled, tamed, or trained.  Whenever I write, I can’t plan it, it just has to come.  I just get…inspired. 

Well, this time I was inspired by a holiday.  It’s a relatively new holiday in Bermuda known as National Heroes Day.  Its purpose is for us to learn about, remember, and celebrate those people who worked to create a better life for the people of Bermuda.

As I read the newspaper article (AKA, skimmed. I’d be lying if I said I seriously READ most of the articles) about the men who were to be honoured this year, it occurred to me that I only had a passing knowledge of one of them, yet they affect my life today.  And as I lay in bed this morning thinking about what “National Heroes Day” really meant, this statement came to mind.  It was really only going to be a sentence, but as I started to post it on Facebook, it grew from there.  I later turned it into a note, and added the intro.  For some reason, any extra thoughts I have about something usually go into explaining it.  Like the above.

Anyway, here we go.

I wrote this statement thinking about the significance of National Heroes Day.  I posted it in the group “Together For Bermuda” but since not everyone I know is a part of that group, I wanted everyone to see it, as it applies to all of us, not just Bermudians.  We’ve all had times when we feel helpless, and times when we forget what a priviledge we ALL have, in having those who’ve come before us.  Whether you knew them or not, there was someone who made it possible for you to have potential, to have a destiny.

This past week, I graduated seven students.  Five were girls.  Three were Portuguese.  Two were Black.  All are Bermudian by family, if not by place of birth.  All of these children have bright futures, because of heroes they don’t yet know of, and most of whom they will never meet.  But also, because they have heroes in their lives every day, working to create an even brighter future for all of them.  Despite all of the turmoil we are living in today, it’s things like this that give me Hope.

This is a call for us all; don’t just bask in the rewards of Heroes.  Become a hero for someone else.

On this National Heroes Day, let us take a moment not only to remember those who we honour today, but those heroes in your life whose names may never be celebrated in the news, written in history, or spoken of by many. Whether someone is a hero for one or many, the world you know is a better place because of them. 

Let us follow their example and strive to be a hero for others. Let us stand up for those who are downtrodden; those who are in need of a hand, a shoulder, an ear, a voice. Let us give of ourselves, and not let their work, their sacrifice, their dream of a better place for us to live in; let it not be in vain.

Stand proud. Stand strong. Stand determined. Stand knowing that you can accomplish so much more than you may think, because those who came before you did what they did for a reason. They did what they did because they believed in you. They paved a road for us to walk on, and to build on. Let us go forward, together, for that is how we will truly honour them.

I was going to wait until I reached home to post this here so I could add some photos to it, but it’s gotten such a nice response on Facebook I couldn’t wait.  And it’ll be easier to share here.

This poem is about and dedicated to my grandmother, who I visited in Jamaica.  She is in an old folks’ home now, and has dementia.  This was my first visit to see her in eleven years.  She rarely recognises anyone now, so whenever family goes to visit, we spend most of our time trying to get her to remember us, or to laugh.  I didn’t hold up much hope that she would remember me at all, but this poem explains what happened the last time we saw her, when we went to say goodbye.

You don’t remember me, but I remember you.

I remember your laugh, the laugh I still hear fleetingly now.

I remember your clothes.  Jeans looked so foreign on you, not like housedresses and skirts.

You always had big legs.  You still do, I hear mom say.

I learn more about you now than I did when you remembered me.  

Stories mommy tells, jokes you and my family shared.  

I see everything in your hands, and in your eyes.  So kind, so happy, but so lost.

But then, every now and then, they change.  They know.

You respond.  Once, maybe twice if it’s important.

But still, you don’t remember me.

When you last remembered me, I was in college, just starting out.

You had a walker, having broken your leg.

You didn’t remember everything, but you remembered me.

Many years have passed, and I hear from others how you’re forgetting.

But I remember you, and I miss you.

I forget about telling you all the things I’ve accomplished, everything I’ve become.

All I want is for you to remember me.

You start to give me kisses, touch foreheads with me, give me that laugh we’ve all come to live for.

I hold your hand, and rub the soft, wrinkled skin.  

I tell you I love you, over and over, so you don’t forget that, even if you don’t remember me.

You know that this person loves you.

But then, you look at me.  Your eyes are knowing.

You say something, so quiet I almost don’t hear it.

I ask you to repeat, desperately hoping I haven’t missed it.

You say it again, just for me to hear.

Everything I haven’t told you, everything I hoped you’d remember

They’re all wrapped up in that one, short phrase.

“You turn out alright?”

I smile, I rub your hand, I nod and answer.  It won’t hit me until the final goodbye.

Mom asks you to say it again, but the moment’s gone, and you look away.

We spend more time there, trying to get you to laugh.

You remember your name for a moment, and nod when we ask you.

We let you fix our clothes, feel them and pleat them, then pat them into place and let them go.

We thank the staff for caring for you.  We kiss you again, and promise to come back.

But we know you won’t remember.

And I can’t help but feel I may never see those eyes again.

But, I can rest easy now.  Because I know that you know.

And as I sit in the car, I almost cry as I smile.

Yes, grandma.  I turned out alright.

Six little ducks that I once knew
Fat ones, skinny ones, fair ones too.
But the one little duck with the feather on his back,
He led the others with his ‘quack, quack, quack’!

Ask me anything! I accept all challengers!

writing. I’d love to be a writer & poet. :)

Ask me anything! I accept all challengers!