Write What You Know

In "The Poet's Companion" by Kim Addonizio and Dorianne Laux, the reader is instructed on pp. 28 and 29 to make lists as an aid to find subject matter for poetry writing. There are seven different types of lists on these pages. The first list is "Make a list of the most memorable events in your life."

I will begin...


...When I was 15 & 16 I went to two concerts. One was Nazareth and the other was Rush. I went with my boyfriend, who's dad lived in Portland. His dad drove down and shuttled us to and from the Rush concert. When we went to the Nazareth concert, my boyfriend's mom drove us. At the Nazareth concert, I saw people drinking clear liquid from baggies and asked my boyfriend why they were drinking water from baggies. It wasn't water. I knew at that time that I was uncool and would likely never truly be cool.


When I was a sophomore in high school I had a crush on my english teacher. We had an assignment to write a parody of a fairie tale and I wrote "Handle and Gotcha" which turned out very well, as I was trying to impress him. I stole glances at his collection of "The Writer," magazine which he kept in his classroom and fell in love with poetry.

Also as a sophomore, I learned a phrase in biology that I think is very cool still to this day. "Selectively Permeable," is a phrase that I learned 21 years ago and can still, somewhat, define. I found that I like cool words, that I played with them, defined them, and applied them outside of their defined category of standard use at this stage of my life.

I did not embrace poetry until I was 36.

When I was 36, I could no longer ignore the decaying thing that I kept hidden in my heart. It's cry's of salvation became so loud and insistent that I could not eat or sleap. I began jouraling at that time and re-kindled a long -seemingly - dead thing called a love of language. It is one of the most beautiful moments of my life. All the world shone brilliant in new colors, my friends held more meaning to me, life began to make sense, love smelled of treason as I realized that my true love I had tried to kill in the fear of my cowardice so many years ago. Fear of failure. Yeah, though, my true love had not died, and yes I re-kindled it with passion and earnest, and I pet it, I nurtured it, I fondled it with all the adoration and awe of a new mother.

When I was in first grade, I memorized a Richard Scary book of nursery rhymes. My favorite was Georgie Porgie. I think that I liked the part when all the boys ran away, or perhaps I felt something akin to that in my own young life. "Georgie Porgie puddin' and pie, kissed the girls and made them cry, when all the boys came out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away." Another poem that I remember from that book was about a spider, curds and whey, ... I don't exactly recall the words right now. That was my favorite book for about two years, and I became quite a star reader in school, though I didn't know it. It was something that I just did, no one ever commented on, I took it for granted that everybody thought in rhyme.

When I was 10, we lived right next to a bridge and one of the homeless people walked right into my house when I was home alone. He was drunk and, thankfully, turned around and left the house. Also at this house, the two bigger neighbor girls barged in through the door when my mom wasn't home and raided our kitchen. They ate all of our ice cream.

I had my first child when I was 20 years old. She was beautiful. She was healthy and strong, and she was a handful from the very start. She was collicky and fussy for her first year. She was wonderful to hold, feed, bathe, and snuggle. She smelled so sweet, like baby powder. I did not work outsided the home, but stayed home and cared for her. Our second daughter was born 18 months later. She would fall asleep on her own. I hadn't expected that, but I enjoyed it because my older daughter was into so much and kept me very busy. My sons were born when I was 27 and 29. They were wonderful and I remember singing to them all the time.

I have watched sunsets, chased rainbows, watched choir concerts, baseball games, enrolled a child in Sylvan, sought counseling help for one of my children who refused to cooperate so I didn't persue it, been the first passenger in my daughter's new car, and cheered my children on in whatever good things they have chosen to attempt. I still sing, my kids hear it. They are older now, but when they were younger they loved to hear me sing. These days, they probably wish I wouldn't, or they're so used to it they don't notice. We're family, we are what we are and we love each other.

I lost 55 pounds the year after I rekindled my love for poetry. At this time, I discovered the delicate balance between perception and reality. I began to use photographs as a means to guide my perception of reality concerning my weight. At this time, I rekindled the second love of my youth. Photography.

My grandparents are very dear to me. I remember when my grandfather made me a doll cradle out scrap wood in his shop. He gave it to me for christmas and I still have it to this day. He also made me a leather purse when I was 12 years old and I still have that also. My grandmother gave me her cedar oak chest when I graduated from high school, and that's not going anywhere anytime soon. My grandmother taught me how to make jelly and bread.

I remember the first time I heard my mom cuss. I was 14 and she said "Where the hell is my purse?" We were at a store and she'd left her purse in a cart. She found it right away.

My mom worked full time as she raised my brothers and I. She is a wonderful woman. Very strong, very decisive, very kind. I remember when she re-married, I was very happy that she'd be happy. The marriage did't last, and I am sad thinking that my mom may be lonely. I am glad that she is happy being alone, for that's what she tells me anyway.

--------I hope this is how the exercise is supposed to work-------Until next time.....