Archive

Posts Tagged ‘Meditations’

We Interrupt This Program for a Poetic Interlude

February 24, 2011 1 comment

As promised, today I am reproducing three of many beautiful poems I discovered on bentlily, a blog by Samantha Reynolds, dedicated to posting a poem a day. She has embarked on this project in an effort to remain more present in her life and find the beauty that lurks in mysterious places.

Always one for shortcuts, I’m hoping to achieve this same result by reading her poetry. Enjoy a moment of savouring language.

The short story

I know people who hate short
stories. I don’t
blame them.
They are arrogant
and gorgeous. They are literary
one night
stands.
All intimacy and no
commitment.
Just as you are falling
in love
they disappear. You knew
all along
there was no future
but you can’t help it,
the wondering.

Those tiny things

It’s nice to be appreciated
for hard work and
our best qualities
like grace
competence
boldness.

But those are only
the bullet points
of my being.

What makes me crumble
with love
is when you adore
the poetry
that is smudged around
the edges of me:

those tiny things
about me
that I didn’t know
existed.

We are not so innocent

In German
the word for nipple
is breast
wart.

It’s no wonder
they grow so many
existentialists.

But we are not so
innocent.

Consider the effect
of telling a child
they have
hit
puberty.

I always imagined
my little body
young and running and free
and suddenly
a wall.
Now, I watch myself
walk.

What if we gathered our young
and whispered instead
with sparkle in our voices:

How exciting,
you are about
to meet
your adult
self.

Samantha Reynolds is Founder and President of Echo Memoirs, a company which captures memories of individuals and companies and turns them into storybooks. These poems are reprinted with her permission.

Poems, Sonnets, Words, Gifts

February 23, 2011 3 comments

It is getting harder to impress my daughter who is eleven going on twenty-one. She has already discarded me as an obstacle to her coolness, and refuses to walk home with me when I show up at her school in a sweat suit.

But on Valentine’s Day, she told me about “…some poem about marriage and true minds” that they had talked about in school. When I recited the whole of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116 while fixing her after-school snack, she stopped pecking at her keyboard and listened; dare I say, impressed. And by that I mean she said, “Hmf.”

I have always loved poetry. What I love about writing the most is simply words, after all, and how they can be delicately woven to evoke images and meaning. Poetry is the best of writing, skimming away the fluff and keeping the most important, beautiful words. Yet I haven’t cracked a poetry book other than my Norton’s Anthology of Literature since university. That was for pressing flowers.

Poetry has been seeking me out despite the fact I have inexplicably shunned it, like a friend I had meant to keep in touch with but didn’t.

A blogger I follow sometimes posts poems when she is at a loss for words. She apologizes to her readers while I thank her silently for her weighted words. Syllables roll around on my tongue and linger like a sweet thai curry. Her name, by the way, is Kathy, and her blog is reinventing the event horizon.

And then another gift. An entrepreneur I interview mentions her blog. She is writing a poem everyday this year on her blog bentlily. Her words stop me in my tracks, each poem a short story in its own right, deeply personal but also universal – how can that be? The paradox of poetry, or the human condition. Either way, I am hoping she finishes out the year and then begins anew in 2012. Her name is Samantha, and she tells me writing poetry is her way of staying present.

I haven’t written any poetry, but reading it lately has been like smelling the aroma of a lemon grove.

Tomorrow I will share one of bentlily‘s gifts, so you, too, can smell the lemons.

Categories: Life Tags: , , ,