Hooray for writing a Poem. Hooray for not having a clear response to what it means, only fragments of it.
This morning I started collecting nuggets of
beloved poems, more specifically tweetable nuggets. I need to keep room for the
poet’s name as well, so the small morsel of a poem is smaller, even smaller
still.
I read three poems by Lisel Miller this morning. This phrase is a standout to me:
“Speaking
of marvels, I am alive
together with you, when I might have been
alive with anyone under the sun”
Today was ripe with reminders of deeply valued friendships, sacred friendships, sweeter than the smell of drying grass friendships. This tidbit of poetry reached into me and plucked at my heart’s harp strings.
Tonight after a bit of a struggle here at home over such mundane tasks it barely deserves a mention, yet it remains a part of this marvelous poetic experience.
Frags
“A poem wants to be written,”
My hands tell my gut and
my gut stays silent
"No words right now," hands translate.
"I'm feeling it but not enough to risk...
Hands don't get it.
They want to fly over the keyboard
take a pencil and scritch scratch wiggle
faint squiggles and call it "meaning" -
Cloaked risk is stronger
when the moon is just a
sliver in the sky
And Venus is nowhere to be seen –
= = =
You may ask me what this Frags poem means.
All I can say right now is this. Meaning has yet to show me her face. When she does, there may be more and there may be not. It may be years before my gut feels comfortable letting go of the risk and translating gently to me.
I also found some irony underneath the word "frag" - I chose it to be a fragment of the word "fragment" meaning not quite finished, but apparently it also means purposefully "taking out" someone in your own batallion. Perhaps a higher officer, but definitely a friend causing the death of a friend.
No, that isn't what I meant by "Frags".
Oh, and thank you, always, for reading. I don't have THE answer to what my meandering with words is about and you know what? That is perfectly fine for me as I trust it is perfectly fine with you, too.
+++++
Julie
Jordan Scott is a writer, performance poet, Mommy and mixed-media artist. Her
word-love themed art will be for sale at First Friday each month in Downtown
Bakersfield. Check out the links below to follow her on a bunch of different
social media channels, especially if you find the idea of a Word-Love Party bus
particularly enticing.
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