Nov PAD Poem #14

The Nov PAD Prompt for Day 13, which is Poem #14 this month for me, is title the poem with a question and seek to answer it within the poem:

Who Am I?
I am a wisp.
A thought unconnected,
looping gracelessly through wind,
alighting nowhere.
I wish to be solid--
someone of consequence--
who with weighty word
pins truth inescapable
to the textured wall.

I am invisible.
A phantom, pen in hand,
only recognized through
ink splayed blackly across
cheap lined paper.
With little power,
I dread whisper of change
that may force my feet
to tread earth stolidly,
that may wedge reality
down my too-tender throat.

Insubstantial,
I fade....
until not a blot shows.

Copyright 2010 by Susanne Barrett

So I attempt to "catch up," to complete month with a solid thirty poems.

Keeping on writing the words,

Nov PAD Poem #13

Okay, my MLA Research Essay course at Brave Writer ends today, so I'm returning to the November PAD Poetry Challenge at Writer's Digest of writing a poem a day for the month. Since I'm behind a bit, I'm posting by poem number rather than day number.

So here is Poem #13, from a prompt I came across in a poetry group at She Writes. The prompt: begin all stanzas with "The solution is...."

The Solution
The solution is silence:
To quiet the dry heaves of busy-ness...
To blanket mind and heart with peace
quilted of words, phrases, clauses
sewn tight with thought, tangled and torn.

The solution is solitude:
To be alone at long last in empty house,
No one to care for, no needs to supply...
Aglow with aloneness that opens mind,
spilling soul onto page in gorging flow.

The solution is simplicity:
To discover self on thick stiff paper
welled with sepia ink dipped from
brass-nibbed pen, antique in spirit...
to unbury heart with words...and more words.

I am enjoying the Poetry II Group at She Writes so much...such an incredible group of women who produce incredible work, including one poet whose blog I have been following for months on my Google Blog Reader.

Returning to poetry,

Giving and Receiving

As I respond to the idea of Giving at Christmas over at Ann Voskamp's A Holy Experience, I find myself humbled by her family's practice of Christmas and humbled by our own circumstances as well.

You see, we were (and still are) a family of givers. Keith used to take a family in reduced circumstances to Costco every couple of weeks to purchase groceries and other necessities. He's served many widows and single women by doing handyman work as needed and not accepting money. We've slipped generous gift cards into the Christmas cards of missionary families. And we never really thought about it--we did it with joy. I wrote out checks at Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas to the local homeless shelter.

And, I confess, we did it (or at least I did it) with a little pride.

I was happy to share God's blessings with others. But I was also a little proud that we had enough to share.

I didn't realize the pride that had winnowed its way into my heart...until our circumstances changed.

Three years ago our finances altered drastically. Keith had always worked in the same office with his dad, a civil engineer. Designing and drafting custom homes has been his work for 25 years, and he is gooooood at it. Excellent at it. Recommendations over the years spread by word of mouth, and there was always work to do, sometimes so much that Keith had to turn smaller job away.

But when the recession hit, the housing market was rocked to its core, and it rocked us with it.

Suddenly we were adrift with no income. Keith has patched together a handyman business which waxes and wanes over the months, but it's been hard. Money has been tight...so very tight.

My medical bills over the past years were astronomical. We had managed to keep paying the balances, but when the recession hit, we were stuck with no way to pay for $1000 a month for medications plus other medical-related bills. We made arrangements with creditors and with his dad's help, we paid almost all of them off.

There were (and sometimes still are) weeks when we couldn't buy groceries and when the electric bill rolls into the next month. We stopped purchasing propane and now heat our home with free wood that Keith finds on Craig's List and hauls up the mountain.

But the hardest part was accepting the blessings of others.

It's a humbling thing to receive help. It's undoubtedly a blessing--a HUGE blessing--to receive a gift card to Albertson's for groceries, to WalMart for clothes for the kids. And I've always been thankful...so thankful. Those gift cards always arrived at just the right time, so perfectly at the right time that I saw the hand of God in it: the week we had no money for groceries was the week I won the monthly Trader Joe's drawing for bringing in my own bags. The $25 gift card award allowed me to buy the special gluten-free breads and pastas our kids needed. Another week when we had no meat in the freezer, a neighbor gave us a round roast that she "didn't want"--which I'm sure she purchased for us. We saved the turkey from the Thanksgiving Box given by our church "for a rainy day" and ate like kings even though the rest of the pantry was nearly bare.

But underneath the thankfulness and the joy of provision, the happiness in seeing our kids fed, lies that nearly-invisible streak of pride. The wish that we could help people, too. The wish that our circumstances were different and we could be the givers rather than the receivers. The "zing" of pride that darkens the joy just a little--not much--but it's there. I can feel it.

I hear the proverb again and again: "It's more blessed to give than receive." It's true. So true. Sometimes it's hard to receive. It's difficult to smile and say "thank you" at times.

So I confess it here to you. I am proud. But I am not so proud as to refuse what the Lord gives us through His people. Our circumstances have alerted me to much sin in my life, and among those previously-hidden sins is the sin of pride, the sin of wanting to be able to "do it on my own." It's not the sin of covetousness...YET. But it could grow that way if not curbed now.

I pray from the Confessions of the 1928 Book of Common Prayer:

ALMIGHTY and most merciful Father; We have erred, and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep. We have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts. We have offended against thy holy laws. We have left undone those things which we ought to have done; And we have done those things which we ought not to have done; And there is no health in us. But thou, O Lord, have mercy upon us, miserable offenders. Spare thou those, O God, who confess their faults. Restore thou those who are penitent; According to thy promises declared unto mankind In Christ Jesus our Lord. And grant, O most merciful Father, for his sake; That we may hereafter live a godly, righteous, and sober life, To the glory of thy holy Name. Amen.

Good Lord, forgive me.

I ask for God's grace to receive without pride. I ask for His grace to give without stinting, without letting one hand know what the other is doing. I ask...to be more Him, in both giving and especially, especially in receiving.

In His grace,

Thankful...A Day Late

As I've written before, grading student essays is difficult work. I must strike a balance between correcting mistakes, giving advice, and encouraging young writers so that they don't become discouraged but can improve their work. It's a delicate balancing act, one that requires a great deal of both time and thought, especially when one is commenting upon rough drafts of MLA research papers which has been my job since Friday afternoon at Brave Writer. Each essay has taken between two and three hours to comment upon as they range in length from five to nine pages, not including outlines and Works Cited (bibliographies). So, as I mentioned yesterday, I've been buried.

But I don't want a week to slip by without an opportunity to jot down my Journey to 1000 Gifts this week as I join, a bit belatedly, the Gratitude Community at A Holy Experience....

The beauty of thankfulness:

401. ...for rough draft grading completed...at midnight last night.

402. ...for boys who scrub toilets, vacuum floors, empty trashes, fold laundry, do dishes...all done cheerfully (most of the time)

403. ...for the blessing of advising a dear friend at church just diagnosed with fibromyalgia, of my experiences being helpful to her

404. ...for the joy of taking my girl shopping and spending time with her this past weekend

405. ...for a bank account well in the black, with enough money for food this week

406. ...for the warm water of the spa, soaking away aches and pains after long days of teaching and grading

407. ...for a Sunday afternoon spent with amazing and loving friends, beautiful women of Spirit and Word and words

408. ...for tickets already purchased to see Deathly Hallows Part 1 with Keith and boys Friday morning

409. ...for "the little things that make a house a home" (John Denver, "Back Home Again")

410. ...for morning hugs with my husband; burying my face into his warm and comforting neck brings peace of mind and heart

Grateful for the little things which are really big things when I think about them,

Buried....

My apologies for falling behind with posting, especially with posting for the November PAD Poetry Challenge. I am buried...it feels quite literally...in MLA rough drafts for my online course with Brave Writer.  I still have half of the rough essays to read through and comment upon, and then I'll be helping students improve their work all week before they submit their final essays on Friday. Then I'll have to grade them all. So I hope that I can get back into the swing o' things, but this class is the very reason I decided not to try NaNoWriMo this year. It's a very time and labor intensive couple of weeks I have here.

But I shall be around...I promise. I may be posting at 1:00 AM, but I shall be around. ;)

With love,

Nov PAD Poetry Challenge, Day 12

The November PAD Poetry Chapbook Challenge for Day 12 is a "forget what they say" poem. Here's my attempt:

I Care
Yes, I care--
I care what they say
(the ubiquitous, ever-present,
undefined, nebulous "they")
I want to look good in their eyes
(smart, beautiful, talented, gifted),
not a gimp leaning on a cane
trapped in my body--
my mind the only part
that still works (kind of)
(when not too fogged by
pain meds or lack of sleep).
So, yes, I care.
I care what "they" think.
I care what you think.
And I wish that I didn't.

Copyright 2010 by Susanne Barrett

Caring when I shouldn't,

Nov PAD Poetry Challenge, Day 11

The November PAD Poetry Chapbook Challenge Day 11 asked us to use the phrase "No One Wants ________" as our title. After reading an article earlier in the day about how hard it is for us to confess, I took up the idea in the poem...but I'm not sure I really like it much. I just don't have time to think of much else to write....

No One Wants to Admit It...
No one wants to admit it--
to admit when we're wrong,
when we've plunged our knife
into someone's heart, or back
or even slit a throat--
or at least imagine doing it.
No one wants to confess,
to own up to mistakes,
to take the blame.
We want to appear perfect,
without fault,
impermeable--
able "to leap tall buildings
in a single bound."
No one wants to admit
his errors
her sins
his blunders
her wrongs.

It's weak...
to admit our failures.
Isn't it?
No.
For "when we are weak,
then we are strong."
When we confess,
we are cleansed, forgiven.
The wounds disinfected,
so healing can begin--
healing of friendships
of marriages, of families.
And after healing,
after all is forgiven
and restored,
then comes the growth--
a pale greening of spring,
a clear clean blue of sky,
purity of translucent cloud,
and glowing warmth of sun
sprouting good things--
growing, stretching, expanding,
weaving lives together.


Copyright 2010 by Susanne Barrett

Poetically yours,

Friday Quick-Takes Vol. 6

-1-

This morning is a non-quiet quiet day. School today is an outdoors thing, lessons with Dad as the three boys help him split the last of the seasoned oak before Keith's brother comes to fetch his splitter tomorrow. So while outdoors this November morning, the splitter roars and splutters, ripping wood apart, and as boys hand unsplit logs, guide, stack split wood to season, I sit inside, in relative quiet, surrounded by Word and words--Word to drink in, ponder, apply--and words to birth, arrange and rearrange as I attempt to learn, attempt to write, attempt to stretch into this gift of word-wrangling. So it's a non-quiet quiet day for me, one that will bring us warmth throughout winter days as wood is stacked high, as boys work muscles instead of brain cells this day. They can make up math later....

-2-

As I read the newest Culture Post ("The Work of the Poet") on High Calling, I was struck by the selection from Ordinary Genius that L.L. Barkat quoted in her post, and I copied it carefully into my quotation journal. It seems eerily fitting for this month of writing daily poetry--a reminder and a challenge for us who desire to write:

Did you think writing great, or even good, poems would be easy? What feeling of accomplishment would you get from doing what is easy, what anyone can do without trying? Athletes train relentlessly to become stronger, faster, better. Dancers attend class every day, and rehearse long hours in the studio....If you thought poetry was different, this is your wake-up call. — from Ordinary Genius

Wow. What an incredible reminder and challenge for us (me) who merely "dabble" in poetry. "Dabbling" isn't enough--it's not going to make us great poets, or even good poets, or even poets at all. We (I!) need to develop this craft according to this "wake-up call" and be more deliberate in how I approach reading and writing poetry.

I'm "awake" now.

-3-

Speaking of poetry, you may have noticed that I'm a wee bit behind in writing a poem a day for the November PAD Poetry Chapbook Challenge at Poetic Asides, so I'm using this morning as a catch-up day. I spent the last two days buried in a teetering stack of essays to be graded for my co-op writing classes for high school students, so this day I emerge (before I have to offer feedback on incoming MLA research essays today for Brave Writer) to write a poem or three. In fact, you may find one buried here in this post. One never knows... (she hints mysteriously).

-4-

And still speaking of poetry, I have been overwhelmed by the response this week to my poem "Do You Remember?" I posted it on Poetic Asides on Writers Digest for the Challenge and linked to it at the Culture page of The High Calling as a response to a call for catalog poems. I have rarely received so many comments here, and rarely such positive ones. I'm sure people are simply being polite, but I'm thrilled that they would comment at all. I also took "Do You Remember?" to our small town's Writers' Workshop meeting on Tuesday, and one of the poets there said it's the best work I've done so far. I'm thrilled, and I pray that God will continue to nurture the growth of this gift in me as I take up the challenge to truly WORK at becoming a crafter of words.

-5-

Today (or at least this weekend) I need to scrape together the younger two boys' grades for our first quarter of home schooling. We've been enrolled in Heritage Christian School since we started this journey in 1997, and I appreciate the accountability they offer us, as well as the fellowship, the high academic standards, and the social aspects of school especially for the high school students. I only have to submit semester grades for my high schooler from which the school creates high school transcripts, another important service HCS offers. Yesterday we attended our co-op Class Days in which I teach two high school writing classes, one college prep and one honors, while our high schooler takes biology lab (a double-period class) and fine arts. Our middle schooler is attending classes is General Science (mostly a lab class), chess, and PE, and our elementary schooler is enjoying Lego Engineering, PE, and California History (a class required by the state of California). It makes for a busy day, but overall, I feel that our young people have an excellent balance between the academic and the social aspects of school through our at-home school and the Class Days.

-6-

My kids can barely wait for the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 a week from today. I've been able to watch a few snippets from the film on Mugglenet (which E of course forces me to follow on Twitter!). E has tickets to the midnight showing next Thursday evening with a bunch of girls in her dorm. Since she is working on a large MLA research paper on Harry Potter for her Freshman Comp class, she could call attending the film "research," but we all know she'd be there in a heartbeat anyway. The boys and I are taking the slow track approach, planning to see it on Friday morning while most students are at school. I'm buying tickets today. :)

The looooong wait is almost over!!! Yay!!!

-7-

And, finally, last but not least, I thought I'd post my Nov PAD Day 10 Challenge here as it's a short but sweet little tanka. We were told to compose a love poem, and as I felt some trepidation on posting something so personal online, I'm keeping the longer poem I wrote in my files rather than sharing it publicly. But I also wrote this tanka which is not so personal, so I don't feel weird about posting it here where students, family, friends, and others read my work. So here's my little love tanka for my husband who cooks for us when I can't (which is 99.9% of the time):

As you set down plate,
fragrance of roasted garlic
rises to my nose--
hunger twists my heart wildly
and I know that I am loved.

So have a wonderful weekend, everyone!



Wishing you all precious autumn days,

Nov PAD Day 9: Can't-Stop-Tanka

The prompt for the Nov PAD Challenge Day 9 is either a slow-down or a never-slow-down poem. I chose the latter...and the poetic form of the tanka.

Can't-Stop-Tanka
Expectations drive,
pushing myself to edges,
seeking perfection
on precipice teetering--
there's no way I can slow down.

Copyright 2010 by Susanne Barrett

Not slowing down,

Hip Homeschool Hop 11/9/10

Welcome, my Hip Homeschool Hopping Friends! I invite you to pull up a comfy chair while I pour you a virtual cup of steaming Irish Breakfast tea and offer you some virtual shortbread (no calories!) on my wedding china, and let's chat!

If you leave a comment, I'll pay you a visit and comment in return. I love getting to know new homeschooling friends!

This is Year 13 of home education for us. You may read more about our homeschooling journey on the above page: Home Schooling.

In case you're wondering about the many poems posted here, my blog isn't usually so poetry-inundated. I'm doing the November PAD Poetry Chapbook Challenge, writing a poem a day with Poetic Asides, a blog connected to Writer's Digest. So if you're not a poetry fan, just know that I usually post poetry once a week at most. You've just visited at a particularly poetic time. :)

Welcome! I'm so glad you've stopped by.

On the journey with you,