I'm participating with The Red Dress Club again today. The instructions were as follows:
This week we're going to switch gears and write a little poetry. Writing poetry helps us work on cadence and rhythm which can make for better fiction. So by flexing our poetry muscles, we can in turn create more fluid fictional pieces. 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. Good luck!
**I am not a poet. I wrote this when I was in high school and this is the second time it has appeared on my blog.**
DEBACLE
We stared blankly in a dumbfounded silence
Not daring to even steal glances at one another
The five of us sat tense, unmoving
As rivers of emotion threatened to escape
From behind our downcast eyes.
My mom, my two brothers and I listened
As my father told us a story about how it felt to hide,
Crouched behind a wall of fear for forty years
He said it was time to face the truth,
Time to reveal the secret that had been silent
Within him for so long.
But it had always been lurking there,
Stirring underneath his skin.
It had crept up on him quietly, slowly,
Like a fever.
Until finally, on this day, the fever broke
And relief swam over my father as he confessed
In a shaky voice, "I'm leaving you all because I am gay."
It's too bad his relief wasn't contagious---
He seemed to think it should have been
I just fell apart
We all fell apart
A jigsaw puzzle dismantled
The pieces scattered everywhere
So we're trying to fit them together again
But it's hard to make a new puzzle
When we liked the old one so much better.
How could he create a family knowing all that he did?
His family was his garden--he watered it, tended it, nurtured it.
But he wondered why, if the flowers thrived so,
Did he still feel an unbearable emptiness inside?
After all, he did have a loving family,
Even if it wasn't the kind of family he desperately wanted.
He thought we, his fictitious family, could hide him,
Even from himself.
He was wrong.
27 comments:
Well done. And it makes me sad 'cause I think he should have stayed. :(
Erin, I'm climbing out from under my writer's rock to say hello.
I think we are a lot alike. I never realized it until you started really writing more, here in your blog, these days. Writing, for me, has always been such a catharsis. I see that here in your poignant, touching poem.
Keep sharing your stories. They're great.
ditto. your writing is insanely awesome.
this poem… you're not a poet?? (uhhh wrong-o!)
i was swept into the middle of the room as i watched one side remove the world from his shoulders and lob it onto the unsuspecting people on the other side… like tossing a bowling ball into a china cabinet.
beautifully written, friend.
wow... very well written and so brave... :)
Really deep poem, and for a high schooler too! I haven't written a poem myself since high school.
I agree with Purejoy, You are not a poet? Excuse me. I think U R more of a poet than you think!
:)
I like your stuff.
and high school? i wrote some high school stuff but i'm not sure if they were this good.
i mostly wrote about love. Yeah I'd find a guy and write love poems to him. I actually never gave them to him, I just wrote about him. He was my muse so to speak. lol.
It's powerful, Erin. It is clear how much that one event impacted your life and shaped you in so many ways. My daughter's first boyfriend turned out to be gay. Five years later, he's still a part of our family. He still loves us--just in a different way than we first thought! It is such a complex issue. I am sorry for the pain it brought you.
Erin! This is beautiful. And after reading the story about your dad, this is very clear to me and I can totally feel you.
Gee, I wish I wasn't as much of a poet as you aren't!
Really great poem, Ms. Poetess!
Erin, that was so haunting.
I never would have been at that depth of writing in high school.
Never.
Incredible, and now in my head, I have you writing a book and putting together a book of poetry.
This is so deeply felt, that's what I love about poetry.
You can go from zero to 60 in so few words, and say so much in so few words, and bring out feelings in people faster than an entire book can.
That's why I love poetry.
This is a book in itself here. It really is.
This was so raw and open. I'm beyond impressed that it was written in high school. My high school poetry was about how Bobby/Jason/Mike and I were soulmates.
Such a powerful poem!
Your writing amazes me!
You are a poet whether you want to admit it or not. So unbelievably heart wrenching. And I understand that misconception of believing one's own sense of relief will birth the relief of others. Sad and very poignant.
Writing this as you did in High School must have been so awful to do Erin and I am sure sharing it with us on your blog is bringing back so many emotions today. So bravo to you for doing so. The words that struck me were where you say it is hard to make a new puzzle when you like the old one so much better. It sums up this story so very well.
I love the image of your dad crouching. How uncomfortable. How miserable.
There's sadness for every member of your family, and I like how you address your perspective and his so eloquently.
A poet you most definitely are. Truly a powerful and honest piece, sad also.
I really enjoyed this. Like everyone has said, you are definitely a poet.
This really is an amazing poem. Emotions often lend a hand in writing our most powerful pieces. You should definitely spend some time exploring that poet that's in you. Excellent. I was thoroughly involved.
My high school poems were all melodrama about how someone didn't love me and I was so tired of life.
Being a good writer is a gift. You either have it or you don't. You have it, friend.
So beautiful, Erin. I have been so impressed by the Red Dress posts I have been reading and yours is no exception. I love how honest you have been in recounting these memories and to have it crystallized into poetry is espescially poignant. Just lovely.
:-)
Traci
this is powerful, evocative, and REAL. that you managed this kind of authenticity in high school is maybe one of your first indications that a life in writing was your path. :)
my husband's father chose to stay - his wife refused to discuss any other outcome - and the kids in that family still aren't sure where the path of wisdom lies in that. Some days they wish he'd pursued authenticity, other days they're grateful for the family life that was maintained. Hm.
How can you say you are not a poet when you wrote such a beautiful piece? What a sad time for your family. I hope you have found some kind of peace and understanding with your father. Forgiveness is difficult, but always worth it.
it's such a powerful superb piece of writing- so much so that my heart continues to ache for you...
In High School? Wow. What an extremely powerful poem. You are amazing Erin!
First of all, gave me goose bumps. Very powerful. Second, I'm sorry you had to go through this, but like that writing was there for you as a way to express what you felt. Third, I'm a high school English teacher and this is amazing for someone on that level. Maybe you should write more poetry?
Take care!
Blown away.
Your writing just pulls the reader through - perfect pacing. I couldn't even write a decent note to pass in study hall when I was in high school.
"It's too bad his relief wasn't contagious"
LOVE that, but so very sorry that you had to handle this heartache.
You are loved.
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