Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Poetry at Home

April is National Poetry Month and I spent some time yesterday looking through my bookshelves. Poetry has often brought a sense of peace, solace during difficult times, and I often feel wonder at how poets can express emotions so beautifully and completely. Sometimes they can even adroitly point out things you didn't even know you were feeling. I only have a few volumes of poems on my shelves and nothing really struck me. Then I remembered I am lucky enough to be the mother of poets.

Ryan wrote this as a school assignment back in sixth grade. His teacher was taken with the imagery, submitted it to Creative Kids magazine, and he became a published author. I remember reading this for the first time and shedding some tears myself, thankful for being able to see things through his eyes, and that he could describe a perfectly average scene from his window so beautifully. I'm not impartial in any way, but I do love this poem. In honor of National Poetry Month, my oldest poet son who still has a way with words, I'm sharing:

 Gutter Filled With White Flakes

Gutter filled with white flakes as they billowed out-
ward, roof dappled with melting snow. I sat watching
 birds. By chance, I saw them, flooding by like water in
 the rapids, rippling, fluttering about madly as dragon- 
flies. Small, dark, brown birds with tan flecks all down
their bodies ending in bristled curls on their tails. One
halted its skyward ascent to sit on the edge of the
snow-filled gutter. A twig snapped above the bird's
head and plummeted. The bird, startled, slapped its
wings and gracefully soared away from its certain peril. 
One bird gone, yet another replaced it almost immedi-
ately, squatting down, making itself look ever more
pudgy, so pudgy in fact, that I almost had to laugh. 
That bird's visit, too, was cut short. A heavy truck rum-
bled down the road startling the bird, it drove onward 
in its trek to an unknown destination. A cardinal sits
on a tree branch, tree's trunk striped with ribbons of
rolling droplets as if in tears, weeping with sorrow 
at the cardinal's departure. As the smudges of dirt with 
which my window is speckled begin to cloud my view, 
I begin to slip into the world of knowingness. I turn
away, in tears, vowing to look back on this day and
behold again all the glory and peace it brought.

Justin wrote a lot during his high school years. Most of his writing was penned only for himself, privately filling many journals. He wrote this one in high school and it was published in the school literary magazine. He told me the other day that he is still writing poetry, and this makes me and my heart happy. As his mother, I'm completely partial, but I do love this poem, even as it breaks my heart. In honor of National Poetry Month, my youngest poet son who has the ability to use just the right words and has things to teach me, I'm sharing: 

Callous Liasons


Struggling to hear
             Yearning for the words.
Why can't they say

We all covet it
At some point.
Sometimes at
             Arduous for some
             Effortless for others.

High school.
Should be simple,
             Not for me.
                          Not for them.

Not an ordinary
             Met once before
             Mesmerized then
                          Still now.
Must restrict myself
             But I asked.
I got an answer.

She said
             She must shout.
So my heart can hear
             The lethal response.


  1. WOW! Just wow! Bonny, these are two amazing poems. So good, so vivid. And heart wrenching. Thank you so much for sharing. I'm glad Justin is still writing...is Ryan?

  2. My first instinct is the same as Vera's...WOW. Thank-you for sharing. You've got a couple of amazing sons there!

  3. Thanks for sharing these poems! Your sons seem like talented and thoughtful people, you must be proud of them!

  4. Both of your boys are talented poets. Our son still writes (and sometimes even gets paid for it) --

  5. I don't read much poetry on my own -- mostly only what my friends share on their blogs. They always share the GOOD ones. Thanks Bonny!

  6. WOW. Your sons have lovely gifts with words. Beautiful poem. I wrote little poems in high school. Friends saved them, oddly enough.

    1. Thank you, Kathy! I appreciate your kind words. (And I think it's lovely that friends saved your poems!)

  7. I read a lot of poetry in my youth, but not so much now. These poems are very good! I'm impressed that a high school student wrote them. Thanks for sharing.

  8. Poets stun me with the way their words come together to create art. The two are completely different in their approaches and both very talented. Poetry must be part of their DNA to have come to it so young.

  9. Beautiful, Bonny. And, I agree with Margene - poetry can instantly create a picture in my "minds eye" or touch my heart in ways nothing else can. Thank you for sharing!

  10. Oh, Bonny. I just loved reading the poems by Ryan and Justin. They are wonderful! Erin was an editor of her high school literary magazine, and I was always impressed by the quality of the student contributions she shared with me. Words . . . have so much power. Thanks for sharing! XOXO

  11. Wow! I think it's special that boys read poetry ... but write it - and as beautifully as yours do? - that's a true gift! Thank you so much for sharing!

  12. What talented sons you have. Thank you for sharing their work. Poetry is so very peaceful.


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