writing – Page 10 – Lisa Holcomb

The problem with poetry

Here’s my problem with posting my own poetry: I never feel like it’s DONE. Not the posting, but the poetry itself. I start to post it and then I realize, ooh, I could tweak this line or that line and it will be better. It’s never-ending. So yesterday’s post is still under construction. (And then there’s the post that is stuck. I have no idea why it won’t post. I’ve hit “publish” a half dozen times and it still sits there saying “draft.”)

So…anyways…

The next few days are super busy in Lisa Land, so if I don’t post or if my posts are weirdly short…that’s why. Today’s chock full of BSF, Flex day at the middle school (PTA does a party for kids with good grades, basically), and finishing the raking at my mom’s house (the kids job, but I have to facilitate). Tomorrow is a PTA meeting for the elementary school (I’m the president, can’t miss it) followed by chaperoning the middle school band to their UIL contest. Friday is therapy (whee) and getting ready for the weekend. Sunday is Passover (we arranged for babysitting for the church – hope they show up), Monday night we’ve got guests for dinner. Tuesday is church all day. Since there’s so much church going on, I’ve also got to practice my vocal music for ladies ensemble, my clarinet for instrumental ensemble, my piano for the duet I’m doing with my mother-in-law…. aie, I think I just worked myself into a tizzy.

NAPOMO #8

good people share faith, love, intimacy

… so trust the knowing in me

with effort, I metamorphosed myself…

synergy an interesting challenge…

into determined socializing.

and maybe eventually everywhere

the inevitable reward

my purpose:

i’m loved

our time is playful

so trust the knowing in me and maybe eventually everywhere the inevitable reward …

Inspirational web poem #2

Lisa Holcomb 2004

Lifelong learning, What I Love, Writing

NAPOMO #7

The Wind That Shakes The Barley

There’s music in my heart all day,
I hear it late and early,
It comes from fields are far away,
The wind that shakes the barley.

Above the uplands drenched with dew
The sky hangs soft and pearly,
An emerald world is listening to
The wind that shakes the barley.

Above the bluest mountain crest
The lark is singing rarely,
It rocks the singer into rest,
The wind that shakes the barley.

Oh, still through summers and through springs
It calls me late and early.
Come home, come home, come home, it sings,
The wind that shakes the barley.

Katharine Tynan Hinkson

The Past Comes Back to Haunt Me, What I Love, Writing

NAPOMO #6

he can reach

the top of the table

under the crib

behind the piano

with ease

he grabs

a toolkit

a nail clipper

some cheerios

with tiny fingers

he finds

beads

rhinestones

plastic clips

in the shallow carpet

he’s just tall enough to choke.

Lisa Holcomb 10/27/04

What I Love

NAPOMO #5

WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN I SHALL WEAR PURPLE
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Jenny Joseph

Who doesn’t love this poem? But honestly, I started the “weird” life early on. Why wait til I’m old?

🙂

The Past Comes Back to Haunt Me, What I Love, Writing

NAPOMO #4

Image Poem entitled “Jelena”
Lisa Holcomb 2013

My eldest son was doing a poetry project for school, so I did it alongside him. One of the prompts was to write a poem inside a picture of how the poem made you feel. It was interesting to do. Mine was depressing.

What I Love

NAPOMO #3

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.

-Emily Dickinson

Writing

NAPOMO, day two

phone call

licking panic off my lips

uttering the

swollen words I wish i’d said

when I talk

to you

i’m always stiff as yesterday’s cake

I sit here and eat the

silence

like sky and caramel

we’ve rotted in this embrace

and now you spend time

cursing in the corner

and looking up at the

ceiling as if it has all the answers

we’re sitting under this

plague blanket

brick bruises on our hearts

refusing to say the words we mean

and saying all the ones we don’t

——-

Lisa Holcomb 1998

Family Time, The Past Comes Back to Haunt Me, What I Love, Writing

NANPOMO

It’s National Poetry Month…and therefore I must share poetry. Some days I’ll share my own and some days I’ll share famous works and others I’ll share works of lesser fame. Who knows what the day will bring?

Today, because it’s on my mind, a poem about adoption (I’m an adoptee and a friend called tonight to ask about my experience): (click on the image to enbiggen)

Around the House, Writing

My Crazy Week

So out of the last six days, I had kids (one, two, one) home three days, I worked two days, I had events going on five nights and parents in town the last one, it was the first anniversary of a friends murder, AND I started Nanowrimo. So you’ll forgive me for not following up on the Biscuit vs. Scone bake-off. Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow. Nothing’s happening tomorrow, right? (Don’t tell me. I like being blissfully unaware today.)

Kids are well now, they’ve all had haircuts, they’ve had a sleepover (either at church or at Nana & Pa’s), and they’ve already eaten most of their Halloween candy.

I’m something like 5600 words into my latest novel for Nanowrimo. It’s going pretty well. This year I have Beta Readers, too, which is different and fun. I’m awaiting feedback. I think it’ll be nifty having a braintrust behind my novel. I’ve got an artist, a photographer, and a librarian reading my stuff. WHEE!

My husband is being sweet about all this. He said “You choose what you do with your free time. I watch football and drink beer. You spend time with crazy people inside your own head.” It’s all good. I still think mine’s better. 🙂