Part of Me
I'm changing storms... going back to December when I last took mum to the beach at Hastings.
With her Alzheimer's, and because it was too much effort to get her out the car (not at all because we'd freeze our butts off if we did get out! :-) ) we mostly sat and watched the tempestuous scenery from the safety of our seats... sheltered, cosy and listening to the classical radio.
[Poem Part of Me removed for publishing Aug 2017]
20 Comments:
I thought that was quite nice of you to bring your mom out to view the nice sceneries. =D Sorry to hear she has got Alzheimer's though. =( I'm sure she enjoyed watching the scenery! =D
Hey, the fishing town and the skies by the beach look like some scenes taken out from a movie. I don't know why, but somehow these pictures vaguely reminded me of a story written by Enid Blyton...
Some big part of me
rebels against who I am
I find that sometimes happens to me too! =P
Hi FK... the thing about always being in a home is you get used to everything round you. Even though she's always loved the outdoors, she's beginning to worry about going out sometimes, and sometimes it takes 20 minutes just to help her into the car (she keeps thinking she's getting out, and changes direction half way... and it isn't easy for her to follow instructions any more either). But, once in the car, she loves to listen to music and look around... also, it's one of the few places she will talk more coherently... I don't know if it's the distraction/ stimulation of something new. Same as when I take her for a walk...)
Enid Blyton? I'll have to re-read one of the books to remind myself... it was a long time ago!!! :-D
I guess all of us rebel against some aspects of ourselves sometimes...
... but that's apparently the most immediate thing you get from this poem, but re-read, taking in the last lines....
Hi FK... the thing about always being in a home is you get used to everything round you. Even though she's always loved the outdoors, she's beginning to worry about going out sometimes, and sometimes it takes 20 minutes just to help her into the car (she keeps thinking she's getting out, and changes direction half way... and it isn't easy for her to follow instructions any more either). But, once in the car, she loves to listen to music and look around... also, it's one of the few places she will talk more coherently... I don't know if it's the distraction/ stimulation of something new. Same as when I take her for a walk...)
Enid Blyton? I'll have to re-read one of the books to remind myself... it was a long time ago!!! :-D
I guess all of us rebel against some aspects of ourselves sometimes...
... but that's apparently the most immediate thing you get from this poem, but re-read, taking in the last lines....
I love the form of this poem...it's much the same as I use often.I do love that centre button!
I think this could apply to many people in one's life, but is perhaps talking about your mom still being a part of you despite the fact that she's lost part of herself. I'm sure she rebels against this new self at some level.
Maybe she finds the present moment easier to relate and respond coherently to.
Hiya MOI... Yeah, I love that centre button as well (as you must've been able to tell from previous poems :-)
Yeah, you're right, it could be any number of people in one's life. It isn't about my mum - our relationship was never as stormy as this. This is more specifically one relationship, about one who is 'part of me'....
Hello, my Kitty-friend... must put some tissues on hand (then I can carry them over when I visit you as well! :-)) You're very perceptive... there is indeed a plethora of emotions wrapped up here... still many to sort out.
Next time I'll get a picture of the cliffs with with the caves...
hmmm...storms in more ways than one :) that is one stormy poem. amazingly honest. the stormy sea crossing the line of propriety. no matter how we intertwine you will always be a part of me, love is love..it needs to flow.
When I read this one, Mystic, it almost sounds like wave after wave crashing against the rocks (or maybe dam?)... perhaps trying to break down those bricks.
Yes, love needs to flow, and will hopefully find a way through the cracks and over the top... who knows how the waves get through...as long as they do.
This is different from most of yours that i have looked at... the meter and the tone...I'm getting a vision of one of your proest singers, singing with a real passion... that is whats needed for this one... its and indictment and severe and the adjectives need to be chopped off sharply in your head... and each line builds and gets faster until the last word thats held on the lips an instant longer, like "Eternityyyyyyyyyy...Yes, Mr dylan could wear this right on out...
Then the last line... its so suddenly soft...whispered with great care..."part of me".
My friend Rod
http://rodsduckfarm.blogspot.com/ says that poetry really needs to be read...needs a voice...I would love to hear the voice to this one.
Need good instructions for doing a link in the comments box...if its in the blogger help i did not recognize it... they seem to hint at it...
RodSo an hour later i'll give it another shot..
mmmm....love the birds. Every Christmas, my son Tristan asks for the same thing. He says, "Please Mom, the only thing I want from Father Christmas is to be able to fly...."
I've been considering putting a voice to the poems, Steve... just needs time to set up... and I keep getting distracted by something else. I'll get there- in the end :-)
Oh, well done on the link in the comment! Just need to remember to put a space on both sides and it'll be perfect!!
Morning Maryam! What a sweet wish... what a shame it's not so easy to grant! You'll have to take him up in a hot air balloon, or something, until he's old enough to do hang-gliding or such!! (Maybe one Christmas Santa will pick him up and take him round the world in his sleigh.... hey, you never know!!! :-) )
I feel you through your poem.. it is so moving.
I'm sorry about your mother... I know so many who suffer this terrible soul destroying condition.
I haven't been to Hastings in years... over 20 I think when my children were small and we stayed at Hythe and visited all the cinque ports.... aaaah memories of a time long gone
Thanks, Ann...about the poem.
Unfortunately, I know a couple of people with Alheimer's too. But, it's so different when it's someone close to you, isn't it. Mum's gone through the worst now - the bit where she was so conscious of slipping away, with all the depression that went with it. Occassionally, you can see an awareness rise up... just for a moment... that she knows what's going on, and isn't happy about it. Then it's gone again, and with it the recognition :-(
Hastings isn't the most popular place on Earth - has a bit of a reputation for being slightly on the 'rough' side - but as a fishing town, it feels like it might have been this way forever! To me, it's a great place to go and chuck stones in the water, and watch the seagulls in the sky while eating fish 'n' chips! :-)
You've visited all the Cinque Ports? That's more than I've done... one day I'll get round to it. It's something I've thought of before... and I should do it while I can, and maybe while the kids are young enough to join me...
By the way, Steve...like the idea of this one to song... I'm imagining it...
There have been others, I suppose, a bit like this... but they're hard to find in all the posts of the blog. I'm playing with the idea of a web page with them all on...
I have read and re-read this poem. I like it and was hoping to tell you why but I'm just not as good as you at this words malarky.
You said that your relationship with your mother has not been as stormy as this - I didn't feel it was that stormy a poem. It seems more internal...
I've been dreaming about the seaside lately - no doubt I will again after seeing Hastings. Never been there but it looks quite dramatic in your photos. Hope all's well in Sussex despite the snow x
Hi Annelisa,
Very Maternal Ode
Strange really,
only women (mothers)
can feel so totally
that something is literally part of them ...
yet ultimately we know, that whatever we create with much love, whether a clay pot or a human being
It literally has ultimately a life of its own.
For before us came our mother, and before them came their mother, and so on ... but we can only hold on to the last link in the chain
and even that only for a moment though it may give us great pleasure or much and intense pain
Hey Topchamp - snow's not as good as they promised. Like yours the other day, it fair melted by lunchtime, and although there's a pitiful effort still going on, the sun's melting it faster than it could possibly settle! :-(
Yes, it was internal, but it was also representative of a relationship too. One, I think, people are only kind of picking up on....
As you said Quasar9 - it's very maternal... but I'm the mother in this one...
In a way, you're right, Q9 - it feels that everything is a part of me, and I'd guess that many people feel like this - both men and women... Along the other line, I know that if I create something, I do feel that it somehow came from me, and so if it is subsequently destroyed (like the poems and other writings on my pda...) then a bit of me goes with it... (lucky there's plenty of me left, eh? :-D)
I like your chain idea...
Post a Comment
<< Home