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Sunday, February 7, 2010

Poetry Train Monday - 138 - Falling With Abandon


With Valentine's Day approaching, here's an ode to love, which I wrote this evening after indulging in watching ballet pas de deux on You Tube.



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Falling With Abandon


Love yearns
Yearns like the sea
The shore always slipping through
Fingers of foam

Its absence cr-
-acks
cracks the heart
Cracks like a dry lake bed

Love refuses
Will never give in
Love scrambles like tiny turtles
Scrambling from the sand for their watery refuge

It stalks with lethal prowess
Stalks like the panther gazing
From the shadows

Love competes
Love collides like
Tangled antlers

It shyly flirts
Flirts like the cocked head of a kitten

Love swirls
Swirls in the pit of the stomach
Swirls like dervish snow squalls

It bursts from the breast
Bursts like startled flamingos

Love burns without warning
Love burns like orange flame
Flame wrenched from trees by blue lightening

It falls with abandon
The abandon of a glacier calving
Into the open arms
Of the sea

Love kicks with springy delight
Rambunctious delight
The springing leap of young goats

It protects
Love protects like a bear's
Swiping claw

Love soothes like the tongue
The tongue of a doe nudging her fawn

Its joy spreads
Spreads through the cosmos
Spreads like smiling stars
Stars revolving in the vast night

- Julia Smith, Feb. 7, 2010

Panther photo by Liorah_Lleucu

Sunday, January 31, 2010

Poetry Train Monday - 137 - American sentence 1


Last week was the first time I didn't post a poem since I started riding the Poetry Train on May 14th, 2007.

It felt weird. But I decided to leave up my protest against Stephen Harper instead, since there was a national initiative to introduce the prime minister to actual ordinary Canadians, rather than the ones he thinks populate this country.

I had intended to give a new-to-me poetry form a try, so a week later, here is my first American sentence.

For more poetry, Ride the Poetry Train!













Jockey for spot at frigid gas pump not like fight for rice in Haiti.



For a trip down memory lane, here's my first-ever post for the Poetry Train: The Artisans

Photo from Monsters and Critics

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Poetry Train Monday - 136 - She Was Too Strong For Me


Here's a backstory poem for one of the characters in the story I worked on during NaNoWriMo in November.

Cavan is the grown son of the village wise woman in a 6th century Welsh village. He spends his days hiding his own sorcerer's power from his mother. He both adores her as a son and fears her power as a witch.

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She Was Too Strong For Me


My cries filled our hut
My cries
Mother roused long enough to soothe me
I was too distraught to fight off
Her quick charm

I slipped back into sleep
Slipped back for
More torments
Unwilling to see what
Must surely come next

I sat up
About to be sick
I sat, watching Mother
I whispered the words of my own charm
Sadly I whispered with a seething anger

Did all mothers try so hard
To care for their sons
Did all mothers force sons to be cruel
To break away from so much caring

I remained sitting
A pitiful attempt
To stay awake
Soon my head
Dipped down
Upon my chest

I jerked awake, stiff and
Disoriented

Mother stirred

I moaned
Tried to force myself
Past Mother’s whispered charm
She was too strong for me

An eerie comfort, her strength
Even as it sent me
Those silent screams
Only I could hear

"No…" I moaned
Sweating with effort
I fought her
Fought the invisible bonds

I thrashed about
With all the might I possessed
Thrashed and fought
But all in my mind

In reality I lay
As though deep in sweet slumber
I sensed Mother rising
Sensed Mother creeping over
To look

Felt her soft fingers brush
A sweaty tendril of
Hair from my forehead
I moaned

Mother bent down
Mother kissed me
She whispered a soothing charm
Thinking to keep her son safe
From dream demons

Couldn't she hear
That my moans were really screams?
Her charm muffled them
Like thick cloths stuffed hard in my mouth

I fell into dreams
Down and down
To places no one should be made to go
“Hush, now,” Mama said

Forcing her breast in my mouth

I shook my head from side to side
Protesting this outrage
She guided my face with
Immovable hands
I was made to suck

In a while it comforted me
But I had sharp little teeth

I watched as Mama’s face
Lined with the pain of feeding me


- Julia Smith, Jan. 17, 2010

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Poetry Train Monday - 135 - The Sheer Terror





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The Sheer Terror


I listen
I listen to two friends
I listen to two women
Two mothers

They worry
They worry with their mother’s hearts
They worry over their teenaged children
Their children

Nothing to worry about, I say
They sound like wonderful kids, I say
Remember what you did, I say
Remember when you were their age

That’s when panic rises in their mothers’ hearts
That’s when they remember the things they never shared

But aren’t you sitting here today? I say
They will get through it, I say
That’s easy for me to say, with my woman’s heart
Easy to say with my friend’s heart

I will never know the sheer terror of their mothers’ hearts

- Julia Smith, Jan. 10, 2010

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Poetry Train Monday - 134 - Holding Christmas Near


Welcome to a brand new year aboard the Poetry Train!




Here is my newest poem, freshly crafted this evening. For more poetry, Ride the Poetry Train!





















Holding Christmas Near


Not yet ready
To put Christmas away
Not yet ready

Mom whipped up a
Huge pasta dinner
Mom gathered us to her
Not yet ready to put Christmas away

The tree remains
Stands at a safe distance from
Neighboring eyes
The tree remains
Behind closed blinds, brightly shining
We still hold Christmas near

My husband and I clear the way to this table
Clear the way through the fresh page of snowfall
My husband and I clear the way for fresh starts
Mom gathers us round the table
Still holding Christmas near

My sister and her honey bundle up through the cold
My sister and her honey bring news and laughter
Mom gathers them round the table
Still holding Christmas near

Not yet ready to put it all away
Auntie and Uncle bundle up through the cold
Auntie and Uncle bear smiles and hugs
Mom gathers them round the table
Still holding Christmas near

Uncle bears salad greens
Grown in his greenhouse
Grown with no heat source but the sun
We eat the earth’s bounty
Freshly picked this January day

The tree remains
The lights still shine
The laughter still erupts
The appetite for family never wanes
Still holding Christmas near

- Julia Smith, Jan. 3, 2010

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Poetry Train Monday - 133 - The Latest Year of My Life



Here it is - the final found poem for 2009. I'm using the villanelle form, but without rhyming, as that would interfere with the found poem status.

This is taken from my diary entry for the turn of 1980 into 1981. This was a big year for me - first onstage roles in high school where my theatre bug was activated, and of course my first boyfriend, so my first taste of what it meant to be in love.

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The Latest Year of My Life


Looking back, the latest year of my life
I listened to records most of the day
I opened dams, debuted, changed, conquered, loved

I finished Life Before Man, got dressed, packed
I packed to go to Windsor for the night
Looking back, the latest year of my life

We left as soon as we were all ready
We girls had hamburgers and french fries, laughed
I opened dams, debuted, changed, conquered, loved

We girls retired to Julianne's room
The Top 100 on CJCH
Looking back, the latest year of my life

Read magazines, talked about guys, listened
We laughed and laughed and laughed like maniacs
I opened dams, debuted, changed, conquered, loved

We rang in the New Year with screams, kisses
Screams, laughter, kisses and lots of hugging
Looking back, the latest year of my life
I opened dams, debuted, changed, conquered, loved

- Julia Smith, 1980


Sunday, December 20, 2009

Poetry Train Monday - 132 - All Morning, Most of the Afternoon


For my second last found poem for 2009, I've returned to my diary from 1980, when I was in grade eleven.
My high school years were wrapped around the Prince Andrew Chorus, and I still cherish my friendships which have continued from this sparkling time in my life.

We used to go caroling at Christmas time, heading towards the home of whomever hosted a party afterwards.

For more poetry, Ride the Poetry Train!















All Morning, Most of the Afternoon


It took me all morning
Most of the afternoon
To clean all the party mess away

Dad and Michelle had driven me
Up to the portable
Quarter after seven
They'd come inside
We'd waited for everyone to come

I didn't mind it, though
Cleaning the party away
Cleaning gave me the opportunity
To think about last night again

Last night Dad and Michelle
Piled all the munchies people brought
Piled them into the car
And carted them home

Dad was laughing so much
Laughing at how crazy the portable is
I felt so happy
Happy to see him enjoy himself so much

We'd all set out at 7:30
To sing our little Christmas songs
It was absolutely freezing
I'd had two layers of everything on

Cleaning the party away
It took me all morning
I thought about last night again

We'd gone a little ways down Spikenard
Down Farquarson and Shawinigan
Down Guysborough and Mount Edward to Kelly
And then to my house

We'd sung two verses of one song
Then We Wish You a Merry Christmas at every house
At Ted's house where
We'd gotten molasses candy
At this other house where
They'd passed a box of Turtles among us
We'd sung a verse of O Come All Ye Faithful
Besides

We'd sung two verses of
Joy to the World
Under the carport at my house
Mom had laughed
At all of us frozen carolers
As she stood in the doorway

Most of the afternoon
It took me to clean the
Party away, but I
Didn't mind
I thought about last night

Everyone had piled in
Had peeled their coats off
Mom had dished out the
Hot mulled wine
I'd scurried to my bedroom
I'd changed into my new dress

I'd danced
Danced
Danced
We'd all gathered around
The piano

As people wrapped their
Arms about each other to
Sing, how it made me
All warm inside

It took me all morning
It took me most of the afternoon
I cleaned all the party away

I thought about last night
How we'd all set out
How we'd sung our Christmas songs
How freezing it was
How I'd worn two layers

How it made me all warm inside

- Julia Smith, 1980