Confession Tuesday
My life is a strange mix of sweet and sour. This is how I'm feeling today:
won't you celebrate with me
by Lucille Clifton
won't you celebrate with me
what i have shaped into
a kind of life? i had no model.
born in babylon
both nonwhite and woman
what did i see to be except myself?
i made it up
here on this bridge between
between starshine and clay
my one hand holding tight
my other hand; come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.
There is definitely more sweet than sour around me, but sometimes it's hard to see it.
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I am now the mother of a six-year old! I've never seen a kid enjoy being six as much as my son Alex. On his birthday, Alex asked me if he was taller. And I said, "Yes, sweetie, you do look taller!" (He asks me that ever year.) But now, he's got a different air about him—a swagger. He's older now. *sigh* What's a mother to do?
What a blessing! Both Alex and Ella are my silver linings.
****
Last night, after a bout of sleeplessness, I finished a poem. I've had no lack of ideas during the past few months, just haven't had the will to finish anything. Maybe I've been afraid of what I might say in them. There's a part of me that's protecting this very special thing that I do. I don't want it to be corrupted by the other parts of my life. Does that sound strange? It does to me. Maybe it's time to let go and see what happens.
So I have my first draft written in weeks. Will post it later today, and I'll take it to my writer's workshop tonight for critique.
****
I'm DYING to tell you my good news from last week, but I can't.
****
I'm expecting Underlife proofs any day now.
****
And now, the short list, extracted from the big October to-do list:
- Complete Misery poems
- Prep for Mass Poetry Festival
- Finalize video concept
- Discuss video project #2
- Write two articles
- Interview with Joseph Legaspi
- Review galleys
Comments
Happy birthday to Alex! Six is, I think, even more fun for us than it is for them. Most days.
Here's hoping that your 40s bring more happiness that you can imagine.
XOXO
Love that Lucille poem.
And I was up to last night at 3:30 am answering emails after sleeplessness. I wish I would have tried to work on a poem.
Thanks for this.
January,
You are talented and I love your work.d I support you at a time that feels so strange, uncomfortable and unsettling. Kids definitely help you to remember that you are stronger and more resilient than you thought. The smiles and giggles are big pluses, too.
I've always been involved in workshops. The pressure of writing for a group always gets me going. But I also enjoy the group dynamic--having that immediate feedback has been crucial to my poetry.