What the Blue Couch Meant
"Does the poem lead?" she asked me, in the comment box.
I traveled on over to her place and said, "Yes, the poem leads." I told her I needed to trust this truth, even as I was facing my self-assigned task of writing a poem about the living room. I didn't have anything to say about the living room. I didn't. At all.
But, as it turned out, the poem did...
"Visit"
The first time
I entered
this living room,
it was
a dying room.
Evan, propped
on the narrow blue
couch, the life
nearly sucked out
of him, turned
to me and smiled,
lifted a trembling
hand to touch
my warmth, my
life. I did not
know I would
buy this house
a mere year later,
nor that I would
sit under the pine
he planted out back,
rescued from up
the street when
the bulldozing
began. I did not
know what it meant
that moment, my hand
touching his, in
this living dying
room, with its
brick hearth, old
ashes, glass doors
closed against the day.
Maybe you have nothing to say about your living room either. But might you trust the poem to lead? If you do, post by August 6th and let me know about it here in the comment box. Links for all at High Calling Blogs.
Barbie Looks Out at Pine, photo by Sara. Used with permission.
STONE CROSSINGS:
Excerpt of Glynn's words about Stone Crossings: It's like you've been lost in a forest looking for water, holding on to the compass you've owned for years but thinking it's not doing you much good, and then suddenly you stumble into a small clearing with a spring-fed pool. Stone Crossings is that pool. The story she tells is searing, honest and vulnerable. At several points, it brought me to tears... continue reading
POETRY FRIDAY:
High Calling Blogs RAP: Message in a Bottle
Erin’s Stir Constantly Until Well Blended
A Simple Country Girl’s Gather Round
Deb’s Tables are for Eating Too
Prairie Chick’s Kitchen Window
Cindy’s Favorites
ELK’s seven thirty
Suzy’s Infused Memory
Jim’s I’m Really Glad
nAncY’s The Counter
Mom2Six's Heritage and Riding
Claire's Souls Reflection
Sara and Sonia's Going for Ice Cream
Monica's Missing
Liz's Home's Heart
Laura's Kitchen Prayer Alter
Joelle's God on Vacation
Lance's Communion
Labels: children's art, living room rhythms, poetry, random acts of poetry, writing process
posted by L.L. Barkat at 6:04 PM
19 Comments:
This is about heading home with the meal. A provision with mixed blessings.
Deep words about a living room. Where death and life meet. Hmm.
Very nice poem, L.L.; I like it. Does speak of something that seems near and dear to this room. Something beyond it, but that somehow is a part of it.
I loved your poem, and the idea that prompted the poem. I was itching to write a poem to (surprisingly, I'm a poet first).
I'm not sure you are into blog awards, but someone was kind enought to present me with one. It also required that make a list of my favorite blogs. I couldn't make a list without including Seedlings in Stone.
If you chose, you can pick it up at my site: http://bluecottonmemory.wordpress.com/2009/08/01/%e2%99%a5-a-beautiful-blog-hug/
Your words moved me here in my quiet morning.
A blessing to reflect on your offerings as always
I froze in the kitchen. I couldn't find the poem, and I'm guessing now that I didn't trust enough to let the poem lead.
Maybe I can find it in the living room.
{Yours is beautiful.}
these words are like a butterfly flying through quiet buzz of a hot afternoon.
here is my contribution for the living room prompt...
http://justsaytheword.wordpress.com/2009/08/01/r-o-o-m/
Wonderful! This poem was effortless to experience, I just drank it.
It does just what poetry should do but so rarely does.
"Where death and life meet..." Yes, and I was not so astonished to find that my poem lead me here *sigh*..
living womb
emptied
never ending
silence
give me
stones
L.L.,
I've been away. Still walking a painful road although there has been sunshine among the clouds so it is well, just difficult at times. I loved your poem. I didn't think I would be able to grasp one of my own but after some thought it just came, cool how that happens ;)
Blessings,
Tina
L.L.,
Your living room poem finished up with a touching message. I like this, "know what it meant that moment, my hand touching his, in this living dying room," Somehow, I want to touch him too.
I finished my entry today. Still too similar in "feel" to my kitchen poem, but I am going to keep at it.
living dying room. powerful. A poem met me in the living room today. http://prairieprologue.blogspot.com/2009/08/tapestries.html
Your poetry always touches me. Thank you.
Here is my contribution for the living room prompt...
http://mom2six-treasures.blogspot.com/2009/08/rap-formal.html
My living room prompted poem...
http://aspiretoleadaquietlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/living-room.html
Gulp.
I gave it a try.
(But not before I wrote the longest apology ever written in advance of a poem. I think you know by now how insecure I am about these things. -smile-)
http://gettingdownwithjesus.blogspot.com/2009/08/room-in-room.html
I tried hard for a living room poem, but got something even better.
http://likepaperlanterns.blogspot.com/2009/08/80-f-on-86.html
Hi L.L.
Getting Down with Jesus wrote a poem about her livingroom and it inspired me...thanks for continuing to encourage us to stetch! I was so with GDWJ since I tuck my tail so many times and run away from this whole poetry thing...but then after I write what I think, I like it...no matter what anyone else thinks...guess that's a start!
Have a great weekend.
From hot hot SA, TX!
Living room poem here:
http://mybigthree.highcallingblogs.com/2009/08/06/cd-player/
It'll be fun doing the hall next!
Monica
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