Friday, August 06, 2010

Friday Afternoon Fiction Meme: Poetry

Once again, I am linking up with the Red Dress Club and their Friday Red Writing Hood. Tody's prompt:

Please write a narrative poem that focuses on the workings of a family, whether it be your own or one that you've created from scratch.


I have to tell you this prompt gave me pause. Even though I minored in poetry writing in undergrad (after my parents said I should rethink my love of geology because a geology major or minor was NOT PRACTICAL. Poetry, apparently, is the stuff of the Protestant work ethic. But I digress), poetry has not ever been my writerly thing. Or else I have never felt comfortable claiming it as such.


Daddy Goes to Work and Mom Stays Home

Coffee pot sputters, purrs, sputs.
Milk slides, kisses, splashes plastic cups.
Waffle?
Me Waffle?
at my knee. Not hungry! Not hungry! Not hungry!
from a voice banging Thomas on train table, deafening clanging dulled
by coffee on lips slipping down my welcoming throat propelling
me to toaster, fridge, cabinet, table.
Plates they can't shatter, forks that won't spear, knives that can't cut,
paper napkins printed with berried holly in August,
Dora exploring the screen in front of our table, we break
fast with cream cheese, peanut butter.
Above our heads, heavy
footsteps, blanketed thuds, basket scraping carpet.
Laundry fairy makes our beds,
is jovial in the kitchen,
escaping with old dinners in Tupperware, blessed coffee in styrofoam. He
drops kisses on their heads, mine.
Shoulders bag, trots down stairs arms overflowing
with yesterday's clothes, last night's towels.
Washer lid creaks open, soap slithers, knob clicks, water rushes,
lid bangs, back door slams.
Garage door heaves itself open with a scream
that almost needs attention.
Car revs, gravel crunches, garage screams again,
softer this time, resigned.

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

very descriptive and also with a great rhythm...omma

Becca said...

I'm so there.

Jessica Anne said...

I loved this. I loved the cadence, and the story is so true to life. Really well done.

Ericka @ alabaster cow said...

I definitely get a jam poetry vibe with this piece - I almost wanted to snap my fingers to the rhythm! Loved the description, the anthropomorphic qualities of the kitchen objects. And I'm a creative writing major so I get it. I'm still holding out hope they'll open a creative writing store one day just so I can put my degree to use and become the manager.

MrsNilsenLife said...

ha! creative writing store - awesome Ericka. you be the manager and I'll be the non-commissioned salesperson who sells nothing but you know, loves to chat with the customers and scribble in her journal behind the cash desk.

i digress. this was such a fun piece, and I loved its rhythm. and of course loved the final word - resignation. of course. :)

sarah said...

love this.

Ash said...

"Plates they can't shatter, forks that won't spear, knives that can't cut"

Love that - it should seriously be the book title of how life with kids is really like. Resignation indeed.

I didn't even know I could major in creative writing. I want to go back to college! It's not like my journalism degree is worth all that much.

Misty said...

It makes my heart smile knowing you're writing poetry & fiction again. Research nearly killed my inner poet. Glad yours is still kicking!

Cheryl said...

The cadence of this was awesome. Also loved your imagery - you still have your poet's heart!