I have been working on a poem for a while now, trying to articulate to myself what had moved me so intensely about a comment made at the end of a 30-year college reunion not so long ago. Your prompt this week suddenly clicked it into place, Pádraig – thank you…
"Seen"
I lower my head,
lessen the distance
between your mouth and my ear
to catch your words in the noisy bar:
“You were the one I really wanted to see tonight.”
It has been a long time since the anticipation of me
Thanks, Lisa Marie! Always feels a bit vulnerable to put stuff out there but am finally getting to the stage in my life where I give a bit less of a f*ck…
Sitting eyeball to eyeball, smile to smile - I can see this and feel the soul connection before the Soul compliment. And it's a beautiful contrast to "Life was too dangerous/To be be visible, so I wasn't." What a gift that experience was!
That took guts to stop and ask to join in making music together….its surely as intimate as praying together, maybe even more so. And to be rewarded with that praise! What an affirmation. You obviously treasure it - may it continue to live in you and all those you bless similarly as they join with you in making soul music.
Hello all! Here's a first pass at this lovely prompt, Pádraig. I also appreciated the 10-minute instruction on the free write; I know I'll end up tweaking and fussing over it, but *deep breath* here goes.
Marco asked me to marry him years ago,
now we are very unconventional, and we'd been together years and years already, we were on tour in the US and it was a perfect day, I was showing him the Rocky Mountains,
hiking the thin air and piney smell of my childhood in dappled light, sweaty on a bridge over a stream, he asked me.
Then we got back to Italy and back to our lives and it was not the most important thing, it slipped away. I brought it up briefly, he said, yeah that's for you, I'm not really bothered I said, oh well then why should we do it, we're grand as we are.
And life continued for years and years. We wrote and wrote and performed and performed and mentored and loved and laughed
We hosted dinner parties
had long Sunday morning conversations, between cotton sheets our ruleless competitions to see who could make the other laugh more.
Then he asked me again years and years later, when we were in Norway, on tour. We were bringing our gear by boat to a waterside gathering in the middle of the fjord at the golden light magic hour, keyboard teetering on the prow,
he said, will you marry me?
And I said well why?
And here is the exceptionally nice thing he said: "because I love you."
I'm 74, a former runner but not racer, wife-mother-grandmother with some slight arthritis and all the highs and lows that come with living this long. And I'm still lacing up shoes for very fast walks. Yes to "You've got this."
Hey, I resonated with your words on so many levels and I understood when I got to your second to last line "63." And Love the "neon pink and spandex." "You've got this." And me with this poem. Thank you for sharing.
Ioana, how touching. My Mom knitted for us, too, well into our adulthood. It is fitting that we reverence what they gave up by centering their love on us, so we could become who we are. This poem is timeless and precious - thank you for sharing it with us.
How beautiful to be affirmed by a child grown to adult - a recognition of the love you poured into them. Bless you “Mr. McCarthy” and may your consolation be real and full of peace.
oh, to feel safe and with another ~ something that can be indescribable, but you did with your words and your statements capture that sense of safety without a doubt:
Jenny, your look of non-judgement, adjustment to the fidgeting with loving attention, was well rewarded AND well deserved. May your patience and your practice thrive.
What a rare gift - to receive a card someone researched to find the perfect sentiment. Blessings on your sunlit bedroom - keep on celebrating every new day.
Jonathan, it is humbling to work with talented young people.knowing when to take the risk to let them fly on their own……it’s an instinct. You would have helped her if she needed it. I think she knew that. It wasn’t just the freedom, it was the presence through the whole effort, quiet, unseen, sensed. If it hadn’t been for you…..congratulations.
If I could fill a space with any word at all for this I would. But it would wreck the startling loving power of what you describe here from start to finish.
Bless you, Angel David, for seeing the true Beauty in a person, regardless of sad outward distortion. You are loved by the Beautiful Ballroom Dancer forever.
In response to your prompt, I immediately thought about a moment years ago when I felt like I was drowning. And, sorry, I’ve taken the liberty of trying to write a poem about a kind action, rather than kind words. :)
I love this about our furry companions…their intuition about our emotions and instinct to protect and comfort…I’m grateful that you highlighted this Ann…
Dear. Ann, it’s stressful - entertaining, hoping all will be adequate, that invitees will be happy they came….what a happy fur ball embrace! You throw a totally delightful party, even your dog knew it.
Pamela, I love this! COVID was a wake up call to cherish those who worked through the whole “shut down” while we sheltered at home, occasionally venturing out for provisions.
A friend wrote me a text out of the blue, sharing how grateful she is to be my friend, citing kind observations about my character.
My phone, which gets used for mundane word games when I'm tired at the end of the day and work emails more than it should, was a beautiful thing to behold for those moments while I read the text.
My whole body felt a bit taller, a fuller, more complete human somehow.
I smiled. I let the joy wash over me.
Walked a little, then sat on the couch to craft a reply. Resisted the urge to say, "You too!" Offered thanks instead.
I can't remember the weather or the time of day. I remember marveling at what a few loving words can do.
ahhh, yes, "to feel seen." AND "I remember mearveling at what a few loving words can do." I thank you for your share and reminder of just that, a few loving words!
I have been working on a poem for a while now, trying to articulate to myself what had moved me so intensely about a comment made at the end of a 30-year college reunion not so long ago. Your prompt this week suddenly clicked it into place, Pádraig – thank you…
"Seen"
I lower my head,
lessen the distance
between your mouth and my ear
to catch your words in the noisy bar:
“You were the one I really wanted to see tonight.”
It has been a long time since the anticipation of me
has lingered in a man’s thoughts.
No matter if just platonic,
a delicious friction
flickers between us.
And I feel a sudden alive lightness at being seen
again; me, here, worth something to someone,
after years of invisible unexistence,
a future now beckoning
unexpectedly on the horizon.
“a delicious friction”—what a line! Thank you for sharing this.
agreed, a great line!
Thanks, Jonathan - and Sofia!! So cool when a line or phrase lands with someone else...
love that "friction" with "flickers"
Thanks, Maureen - I've been in thrall to Gerald Manley Hopkins' use of language since my teens so maybe some of it is finally rubbing off!
Delicious Anne!
Thanks, Lisa Marie! Always feels a bit vulnerable to put stuff out there but am finally getting to the stage in my life where I give a bit less of a f*ck…
That tracks for me too, lol.
Seems like Padraig’s radar was tuned in to your poem seedling - and LOOK at what blossomed! You were the one……..deeeelicious.
Thanks, Patty - there's a whole other story in that line...
Anne Pender
You successfully create that sweet sensation a nice reunion can give you of being known again. Thank you for this.
Thanks, Gingia!
“Anticipation of me.” Perfect.
So glad you liked that, Bee.
So richly evocative and meaningful. There’s so much said and unsaid—I can almost hear Padraig in my head discussing it.
Thank you, Michael - I appreciate that. And yes, it's often the unsaid stuff that lingers the longest...
High school was a disaster,
Not that anything happened there,
Life was too dangerous
To be visible, so I wasn’t.
Until one day, driving a green VW bug
Through my hometown’s “inner city”,
John Henry sat on a corner playing
The blues guitar. Blues harp in hand,
I asked him “May I join you?”
Sitting eyeball to eyeball, smile to smile,
We played those blues. John Henry
Paused, said “this boy’s got a bit of Soul”. Anointed, baptised, that’s what I was.
No better compliment than you've "got soul."
"Anointed, baptised" goes so beautifully with "Soul"
What a memory and what a moment, beautifully captured.
Sitting eyeball to eyeball, smile to smile - I can see this and feel the soul connection before the Soul compliment. And it's a beautiful contrast to "Life was too dangerous/To be be visible, so I wasn't." What a gift that experience was!
just let it sink in ~ "this boy's got a bit of Soul", so glad you asked, "May I join you?"
Sometimes small words arrive just in time
That took guts to stop and ask to join in making music together….its surely as intimate as praying together, maybe even more so. And to be rewarded with that praise! What an affirmation. You obviously treasure it - may it continue to live in you and all those you bless similarly as they join with you in making soul music.
Hello all! Here's a first pass at this lovely prompt, Pádraig. I also appreciated the 10-minute instruction on the free write; I know I'll end up tweaking and fussing over it, but *deep breath* here goes.
Marco asked me to marry him years ago,
now we are very unconventional, and we'd been together years and years already, we were on tour in the US and it was a perfect day, I was showing him the Rocky Mountains,
hiking the thin air and piney smell of my childhood in dappled light, sweaty on a bridge over a stream, he asked me.
Then we got back to Italy and back to our lives and it was not the most important thing, it slipped away. I brought it up briefly, he said, yeah that's for you, I'm not really bothered I said, oh well then why should we do it, we're grand as we are.
And life continued for years and years. We wrote and wrote and performed and performed and mentored and loved and laughed
We hosted dinner parties
had long Sunday morning conversations, between cotton sheets our ruleless competitions to see who could make the other laugh more.
Then he asked me again years and years later, when we were in Norway, on tour. We were bringing our gear by boat to a waterside gathering in the middle of the fjord at the golden light magic hour, keyboard teetering on the prow,
he said, will you marry me?
And I said well why?
And here is the exceptionally nice thing he said: "because I love you."
Well, that was reason enough
So we did it.
“Who could make the other laugh more” . . . Perfect for each other!
We are!
"because I love you." Such lovely words to hear! Thank you for the share...
Thank you for reading and for the kind comment!
Lovely story. I hope it was true.
It is!
Lisa Marie - best reason in the world! Blessings on your work and hospitality together and the important work of making laughter!
Thank you very much Patty!
Before one training run, I ate a hamburger
then set off for 16 miles
mile 5 hamburger returns, a run of sorts.
34° lake to my west,
Windy, poorly clad, my lips turned blue
I finally got warm past midnight.
I always wear spandex even
though “it just doesn’t suit you” as
my mother always said
and shoes,
neon pink preferred, to run through
Sunrises, rages, lunchtimes,
foreign cities, rainstorms, boredom
Marathon morning miles beyond the gun, every
onlooker cheered me.
You’ve got this.
Quarter mile,
You’ve got this.
50 feet,
You’ve got this.
One more step,
You’ve got this.
A move.
A death.
A relationship.
Arthritis.
Babysitting grandchildren.
You’ve got this.
63. Lacing up in neon pink and spandex.
You’ve got this.
I'm 74, a former runner but not racer, wife-mother-grandmother with some slight arthritis and all the highs and lows that come with living this long. And I'm still lacing up shoes for very fast walks. Yes to "You've got this."
This is outstanding. Love this (and the enjambment) in particular… neon pink preferred, to run through
Sunrises, rages, lunchtimes,
foreign cities, rainstorms, boredom
Hey, I resonated with your words on so many levels and I understood when I got to your second to last line "63." And Love the "neon pink and spandex." "You've got this." And me with this poem. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks for commenting, Sofia. The neon pink and spandex at 63 just makes me laugh. :-)
Lovely sequencing.
Disclaimer: The poem was written before but I when I think of something kind, this is my North Star.
Pumnuţ
When I was little,
it was cold.
And you were there —
but only sometimes:
to welcome snow
into the eyes
that wished to close
the outside
out;
to make mint tea
and cheese on toast
from life’s remains
which once were more;
to knit the wonders
the world had,
from hands that laboured
a hard life —
in mohair softness
that just touched
the shape my body
wore outside;
to colour worlds
we didn’t have,
for which we yearned,
by candlelight —
me not knowing
you gave up;
but when you came to pick me up
from where we go when we are young,
you must have seen
that I’m alive,
and wished my hand
into a fist
for which translations
don’t exist —
a fist you cupped into your palm
to shelter
what I would become.
Ooooo Ioana, this is so moving.
My childhood and the only beautiful memories I have with my mom...
So poignant. This resonates. Thank you
Thank you. Love and loss are universal. 🙏
yes, love & loss are universal. your words express that, thank you for the share!
Ioana, how touching. My Mom knitted for us, too, well into our adulthood. It is fitting that we reverence what they gave up by centering their love on us, so we could become who we are. This poem is timeless and precious - thank you for sharing it with us.
Thank you, Patty. These stanza are the few memories that I have with my mum in times of complete darkness.
It was cool
for late April
there was a slight rain
outside the church
on a noisy city street
I was standing alone
wearing my blue weaved tie
a favorite from my teaching days
surrounded by a flock of good folks
consoling one another
I eagerly waited
then
our eyes met
“Oh, Mr McCarthy”
my former student declared
offering me her open arms
we embraced each other
for what seemed a long time.
What's in a name? Apparently a lot. Thank you "Mr. McCarthy".
Lovely, Michael!
Love it. The word "eagerly' holds so much. It is kindness to be remembered.
How beautiful to be affirmed by a child grown to adult - a recognition of the love you poured into them. Bless you “Mr. McCarthy” and may your consolation be real and full of peace.
work
she’s wind tunnel hair
desk fiasco
straight tabasco
she’s wrinkled blouse
chewed up nails
fidget spinners
speech on springs
she’s caged creature
up down up down never still
she’s keyboard tapping
jaw flapping
buzzing wires
stapler grabbing
breathe, i say with my rising chest
sloooowly, i say with my taffy-stretched speech
no hurry, i say, making my body a parenthesis
twirls in her chair, wild-eyed
startles me, says
when i talk to you
i feel safe
Oh yes. I know those two! Terrific poem.
Rhythmic, musical, real and lovely.
oh, to feel safe and with another ~ something that can be indescribable, but you did with your words and your statements capture that sense of safety without a doubt:
"when i talk to you
i feel safe"
thank you for your share!
I love this. I have also been one to make hints with my breath and taffy-stretched speech. You put it into words so well!
Jenny, your look of non-judgement, adjustment to the fidgeting with loving attention, was well rewarded AND well deserved. May your patience and your practice thrive.
Sitting in my beautiful bedroom
Opening cards from dear friends
As the sunshine 🌞 and I celebrated
A card spoke of how rare I was
Beautiful words followed of why
My dear friend chose this for me!
Words perhaps, she was embarrassed to speak openly?
However, I was greatly moved
Infact, greatly overwhelmed!
But what joy filled my being
As I accepted her kind thoughts
What a rare gift - to receive a card someone researched to find the perfect sentiment. Blessings on your sunlit bedroom - keep on celebrating every new day.
A note about me: I don’t know how to accept compliments,
even when deserved.
A few weeks back,
a truly brilliant student
my mentee
delivered back-to-back papers at the college’s student research day.
She is
a remarkable person
and her work is outstanding:
from a self-directed project to published work
in less than five months.
During the second paper, she commented
that if it hadn’t been for my teaching structure,
the freedom that I gave her,
she wouldn’t have been able to pursue her ideas.
I was
humbled,
but I wanted to say,
“It was all you!
Your ideas,
your drive,
your skills!”
But instead,
I just said,
“You are welcome.”
This kind of collaboration, it's an unnameable alchemy. I would say watching a student find their wings is my most satisfying moment.
Beautifully said.... You are welcome!
Jonathan, it is humbling to work with talented young people.knowing when to take the risk to let them fly on their own……it’s an instinct. You would have helped her if she needed it. I think she knew that. It wasn’t just the freedom, it was the presence through the whole effort, quiet, unseen, sensed. If it hadn’t been for you…..congratulations.
Men from all walks of life
Walking into time together, forging a chain of love.
Laughter and tears,
Stories that make you pee your pants and shatter your heart.
Our final meal together,
this small Jewish shrink, a lasting temporary friend
approaches me:
“Hey. What can I say? You’re like a good bowl of soup”.
yum! and such a sweet thing to say.
Philip, what a compliment! Salty, hearty, nourishing, hot, satisfying - free refills!
During my early morning rounds
I approached her hospice room
I heard and smelled her
before I saw her
her raspy breathing emanating
from compressed airways
having no more space in her body
the large fungating tumour pressed outward
bulging and distorting her face and neck
She was once a beautiful ballroom dancer
now this alien invader clung to her
suffocating her voice and life
But she was still beautiful
dignity defining her last days
still so gracious and appreciative
in everything done for her
she handed me a paper with three words
weakly scribbled in childlike scrawl…
‘you are ANGEL’
If I could fill a space with any word at all for this I would. But it would wreck the startling loving power of what you describe here from start to finish.
this was lovely and touched my heart. thank you for sharing...
Bless you, Angel David, for seeing the true Beauty in a person, regardless of sad outward distortion. You are loved by the Beautiful Ballroom Dancer forever.
I am a student of the moon,
taught by my grandmother to pause
before beauty;
who, even on the hardest day,
tempers flaring, work undone,
would call to me in loving
forgiveness:
‘Patty, come and see the moon.’
la luna bella ~ thank you for your words.
In response to your prompt, I immediately thought about a moment years ago when I felt like I was drowning. And, sorry, I’ve taken the liberty of trying to write a poem about a kind action, rather than kind words. :)
LIFE SAFER
Drowning in the dark waters
of discombobulation–
oh the irrationality
of culture shock
after three decades in this country!
How come these bouts
of utter alienness
of disconnect
from all around me?!
Now latest attack
in the midst of a party
hosting in our home
I am caught on this chair
surrounded
by happy chatter
peals of laughter
while I am willing my face
not to contort into honesty.
No one must know
no one.
Then you come
sit at my feet
lean into my legs–
your mongrel fur’s
soft caress–
& I know
you know.
So lovely. The animals who live with us know us so well!
I love this about our furry companions…their intuition about our emotions and instinct to protect and comfort…I’m grateful that you highlighted this Ann…
Dear. Ann, it’s stressful - entertaining, hoping all will be adequate, that invitees will be happy they came….what a happy fur ball embrace! You throw a totally delightful party, even your dog knew it.
The Nice Thing Said
But it wasn’t to me.
It was to you.
Restaurant server, CVS clerk, grocery store bagger, harried cashier, hair stylist.
You’re really good at what you do, I say.
One simple sentence. But
Said earnestly and with eye contact.
A genuine smile.
A small gift of thanks.
Now going both ways.
The gift of being seen and seeing.
You, yes you.
And me, too.
Reciprocity!
Pamela, I love this! COVID was a wake up call to cherish those who worked through the whole “shut down” while we sheltered at home, occasionally venturing out for provisions.
Seen
A friend wrote me a text out of the blue, sharing how grateful she is to be my friend, citing kind observations about my character.
My phone, which gets used for mundane word games when I'm tired at the end of the day and work emails more than it should, was a beautiful thing to behold for those moments while I read the text.
My whole body felt a bit taller, a fuller, more complete human somehow.
I smiled. I let the joy wash over me.
Walked a little, then sat on the couch to craft a reply. Resisted the urge to say, "You too!" Offered thanks instead.
I can't remember the weather or the time of day. I remember marveling at what a few loving words can do.
What a gift she gave me: to feel seen.
ahhh, yes, "to feel seen." AND "I remember mearveling at what a few loving words can do." I thank you for your share and reminder of just that, a few loving words!
Alissa, so glad you took the time to let the joy wash over you. Do repeat when needed! And it is truly a gift to have such a friend.
The man I was dating,
who would become my husband and
favorite human on the planet,
said to me, “You’re better than a puppy.”
That was about 46 years ago.
This is a man of few words,
so when he speaks,
sometimes you just have to pause,
tilt your head, wait for it to land, and
appreciate the depth.
What a wonderful compliment! Puppies have so many joyful attributes and a partner who sees them in you is a real keeper.