Alien
The sky in Grove Hill is just
weird.
It makes me feel
funny
uncomforatble
ready to fight.
The colors in the sunset are not
real.
The snot string clouds are not
real.
I spend my weekends with you and then I
leave.
I travel 200 miles where my life is not?
real.
Half-way home I drive through
Grove Hill.
Where the sky is
weird.
heidi
June 7, 2012
Tonight's poem is my submission for dVerse Meeting in the Bar: "Where in the World?" http://dversepoets.com/ I have been in an unusually non-science fiction mood lately. So unlike me...hopefully I can snap out of it before I have to surrender my Star Wars, Star Trek, and Dr. Who fan club memberships. Although, seriously, what's the deal with the Sky in Clarke County?
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
FWF Submission: Up the Creek
Up the Creek
She was in kindergarten in an all girl school. This was the seventies, and Katie loved everything about school except for getting up in the morning. Lately, the fun thing was to lean over and look under the partition into the next stall while you were in the restroom. That way, you didn't have to stop your conversation with your friend just because you had to go. It was also a fun and interesting way to meet new friends when both kindergarten classes were in the bathroom at the same time. There was an etiquette for initiating a conversation. You were supposed to stick your hand under the shared wall of the stall and ask "who's that?" The other girl would answer and you would look and say hey and life was good. If there was no answer, then you should look immediately, because this was still basically a public restroom and those could be tricky. Your friend could be in trouble and was depending on you to save her!
That day was like any other day. There was a break, she went to the bathroom with the rest of the class. She waited towards the end of the line. (She liked the ends, they were more special.) She entered her stall. She got to business. She looked down and saw shoes next to her. These were different shoes. She began protocol. Pointing, she asked "Who's that?", but there was no answer. She asked again, and again, no answer. Clearly, someone was in trouble. Katie was a very helpful girl and knew what she had to do. She looked under the stall "Who's in here?"
It was a woman. A woman she did not know. A woman with blond hair in a tight flip and a shocked expression. Katie sat back. She wanted to giggle and she wanted to throw up. She was very still and waited until she was sure that it was time for her mom to come get her. She was going to get in trouble with her teacher if she didn't leave the bathroom. She walked out and to the sinks. There was the woman.
"You! It was you!"
Katie ran. She ran and ran and ran and ran and ran. She ran all the way to her classroom and sat down quietly in her seat.
Someone came to the classroom and took her teacher out. When Mrs. May came back, she was not happy.
"Miss Wills has said that someone peeped on her while she was in the bathroom. Who did it?"
Peeped! Katie didn't peep! She looked, it was different. If Miss Wills was in trouble, Katie would have been a hero. What should she do? Katie decided. She was going to keep quiet. If she was discovered, then she would probably cry and that would be bad, so keeping quiet was a good idea.
The classroom clocked ticked. Mrs May said "we are going to wait until someone confesses and apologizes to Miss Wills."
There was no way Katie was apologizing; Miss Wills had ugly hair. The clock kept ticking. Katie thought that she may cry soon and be discovered.
Evie raised her hand. "Sarah and I looked under the wall." "Thank you Evie. Will you and Sarah come with me?"
Katie watched them go. Miss Wills would know that it wasn't Evie and Sarah. She did have ugly hair, but she had good eyes.
Mrs. May brought Evie and Sarah back. "Evie and Sarah have apologized. They are very brave. I expect that no one will look under the stall doors and walls again."
Katie had no idea what had happened. She was free. All she had to do was avoid Miss Wills.
In second grade, Katie met her new teacher, Miss Wills.
heidi
June 4, 2012
This is my first blog post in response to Kellie Elmore's Free Write Friday (FWF). For those of you who are unfamiliar with Free Write Friday, you can get more information here http://kellieelmore.com/free-write-friday/. I have tweeted some micropoems in response to a FWF prompt. This is the prompt for this story:
O.k., I know you have all heard that old saying, “…up shit creek without a paddle”, right? (Or maybe it’s just a southern thing, I don’t know.) Well, if you haven’t let me just break it down for ya. We have all been in a mess, a pickle, in a …tight spot, right? When times were hard and you couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, hence…up shit creek without a paddle. Often times we are able to look back on those situations and find humor, a lesson learned or just realize that it really wasn’t as bad as we thought…or maybe it was but you survived. Some great stories can almost always be found from these…ripples in life and for FWF, I’d like you to share them. Be poetic, be humorous, be inspirational…just don’t forget to be real, raw and most importantly, just write! You know what to do.
She was in kindergarten in an all girl school. This was the seventies, and Katie loved everything about school except for getting up in the morning. Lately, the fun thing was to lean over and look under the partition into the next stall while you were in the restroom. That way, you didn't have to stop your conversation with your friend just because you had to go. It was also a fun and interesting way to meet new friends when both kindergarten classes were in the bathroom at the same time. There was an etiquette for initiating a conversation. You were supposed to stick your hand under the shared wall of the stall and ask "who's that?" The other girl would answer and you would look and say hey and life was good. If there was no answer, then you should look immediately, because this was still basically a public restroom and those could be tricky. Your friend could be in trouble and was depending on you to save her!
That day was like any other day. There was a break, she went to the bathroom with the rest of the class. She waited towards the end of the line. (She liked the ends, they were more special.) She entered her stall. She got to business. She looked down and saw shoes next to her. These were different shoes. She began protocol. Pointing, she asked "Who's that?", but there was no answer. She asked again, and again, no answer. Clearly, someone was in trouble. Katie was a very helpful girl and knew what she had to do. She looked under the stall "Who's in here?"
It was a woman. A woman she did not know. A woman with blond hair in a tight flip and a shocked expression. Katie sat back. She wanted to giggle and she wanted to throw up. She was very still and waited until she was sure that it was time for her mom to come get her. She was going to get in trouble with her teacher if she didn't leave the bathroom. She walked out and to the sinks. There was the woman.
"You! It was you!"
Katie ran. She ran and ran and ran and ran and ran. She ran all the way to her classroom and sat down quietly in her seat.
Someone came to the classroom and took her teacher out. When Mrs. May came back, she was not happy.
"Miss Wills has said that someone peeped on her while she was in the bathroom. Who did it?"
Peeped! Katie didn't peep! She looked, it was different. If Miss Wills was in trouble, Katie would have been a hero. What should she do? Katie decided. She was going to keep quiet. If she was discovered, then she would probably cry and that would be bad, so keeping quiet was a good idea.
The classroom clocked ticked. Mrs May said "we are going to wait until someone confesses and apologizes to Miss Wills."
There was no way Katie was apologizing; Miss Wills had ugly hair. The clock kept ticking. Katie thought that she may cry soon and be discovered.
Evie raised her hand. "Sarah and I looked under the wall." "Thank you Evie. Will you and Sarah come with me?"
Katie watched them go. Miss Wills would know that it wasn't Evie and Sarah. She did have ugly hair, but she had good eyes.
Mrs. May brought Evie and Sarah back. "Evie and Sarah have apologized. They are very brave. I expect that no one will look under the stall doors and walls again."
Katie had no idea what had happened. She was free. All she had to do was avoid Miss Wills.
In second grade, Katie met her new teacher, Miss Wills.
heidi
June 4, 2012
This is my first blog post in response to Kellie Elmore's Free Write Friday (FWF). For those of you who are unfamiliar with Free Write Friday, you can get more information here http://kellieelmore.com/free-write-friday/. I have tweeted some micropoems in response to a FWF prompt. This is the prompt for this story:
O.k., I know you have all heard that old saying, “…up shit creek without a paddle”, right? (Or maybe it’s just a southern thing, I don’t know.) Well, if you haven’t let me just break it down for ya. We have all been in a mess, a pickle, in a …tight spot, right? When times were hard and you couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, hence…up shit creek without a paddle. Often times we are able to look back on those situations and find humor, a lesson learned or just realize that it really wasn’t as bad as we thought…or maybe it was but you survived. Some great stories can almost always be found from these…ripples in life and for FWF, I’d like you to share them. Be poetic, be humorous, be inspirational…just don’t forget to be real, raw and most importantly, just write! You know what to do.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Better
Better
Never satisfied.
Never good enough.
Strive for excellence-perfection,
there is always room for improvement.
You must always be better.
You can always do better.
The best is the only thing that is
acceptable.
-heidi
originally written 8/2000
I originally wrote this as part of an developmental profile of myself for a school project. It made me uncomfortable then and it makes me uncomfortable now. (maybe even more uncomfortable now) I am posting this today and linking it to dverse Open Link Night. I think if this poem teaches me nothing else, it does let me know that I should never volunteer to coach any of my kids' team sports. Thanks for visiting!
Never satisfied.
Never good enough.
Strive for excellence-perfection,
there is always room for improvement.
You must always be better.
You can always do better.
The best is the only thing that is
acceptable.
-heidi
originally written 8/2000
I originally wrote this as part of an developmental profile of myself for a school project. It made me uncomfortable then and it makes me uncomfortable now. (maybe even more uncomfortable now) I am posting this today and linking it to dverse Open Link Night. I think if this poem teaches me nothing else, it does let me know that I should never volunteer to coach any of my kids' team sports. Thanks for visiting!
Monday, June 4, 2012
dverse prompt: work
My Work
I guess my workday begins
at 6:00am.
A hard little body plops on me
with a
"Get up Mommy" or
"Hi sweetie" or
"Mommy, get up, I'm hungry"
Another warm, smaller, body has climbed
in beside me
sometime in the night.
"Okay baby, don't wake your brother."
or, if I'm honest,
"Please, sweetie, let Mommy sleep a few minutes more,
and please don't wake your brother."
Get up, feed them, clothe them, watch them, love them
keep them safe.
Watch them create chaos where I am trying to create order.
Wonder what have I gotten myself into.
Laugh at their silliness.
Worry about them, soothe their wounds, love them.
Lose my temper, yell, cry, worry that I have scarred them for life.
Love them.
Bathe them, put them to bed. Try to create some order, fall further behind.
Wonder what in the hell I have gotten myself into.
Feel inept.
Feel scared.
Love them.
Try to sleep, always trying to listen for them.
My workday started almost six years ago, and will never end.
My work is to love them.
heidi
June 4, 2012
This is my first try at a dversepoets prompt. (dversepoets.com) I have been tweeting micropoems on Twitter in my absence from here (follow me @bigrthanlasagna) and discovered them there. However, I missed the deadline, of course, so I can't submit it to dverse. In a pure nod to Pollyanna, I am glad for the idea. Hope you like it and I hope that this helps get me back here. I miss my big lasagna!
I guess my workday begins
at 6:00am.
A hard little body plops on me
with a
"Get up Mommy" or
"Hi sweetie" or
"Mommy, get up, I'm hungry"
Another warm, smaller, body has climbed
in beside me
sometime in the night.
"Okay baby, don't wake your brother."
or, if I'm honest,
"Please, sweetie, let Mommy sleep a few minutes more,
and please don't wake your brother."
Get up, feed them, clothe them, watch them, love them
keep them safe.
Watch them create chaos where I am trying to create order.
Wonder what have I gotten myself into.
Laugh at their silliness.
Worry about them, soothe their wounds, love them.
Lose my temper, yell, cry, worry that I have scarred them for life.
Love them.
Bathe them, put them to bed. Try to create some order, fall further behind.
Wonder what in the hell I have gotten myself into.
Feel inept.
Feel scared.
Love them.
Try to sleep, always trying to listen for them.
My workday started almost six years ago, and will never end.
My work is to love them.
heidi
June 4, 2012
This is my first try at a dversepoets prompt. (dversepoets.com) I have been tweeting micropoems on Twitter in my absence from here (follow me @bigrthanlasagna) and discovered them there. However, I missed the deadline, of course, so I can't submit it to dverse. In a pure nod to Pollyanna, I am glad for the idea. Hope you like it and I hope that this helps get me back here. I miss my big lasagna!
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