A Sense of Doubt blog post #3585 - SoD Reprint of #365 - 2016 - "Memory" a poem, after Louise Bogan
Above is a picture of the urns my dear friend Julie Peck made for my parents ashes. The little one is for my Mom not as sexist choice but because I have only a small packet of ashes from her. Lots more from my Dad.
Below I have reprinted a post from 2016, from ONE YEAR and two days since my Mom's death, and one year to the day since I started the HEY MOM feature. Unlike posting about my Dad's death ON my Dad's day of death, it was two days before I decided to start daily blogging as HEY MOM. I was not daily blogging then in 2015. I was already daily blogging when Dad died, so it was easy to slot in the first post and keep going.
In the original post below, I comment on how it would be a lot to retype Bogan's poem, but really it only took a few minutes. I have included it directly below, ahead of the reprint.
I am having a surge of poetry writing, which I feel makes a strong influence on my fiction. The whole idea of "play" as explained by visiting writer Kimberly King Parsons has me trying new things. I have a post in the works about "consecution," another method she spoke about.
On the method the gave birth to the poem: For many years, when stuck, I just try to rewrite something someone else wrote. I have done it more with poems than stories. Often it's just an exercise for me. Sometimes, the poem proves to be worthwhile.
I have grown a lot as a writer since 1993 when I wrote "Memory." I can see what needs to go, what needs to change. That said, I see a rewrite of my version of "Memory" happening soon, but not today.
Here's Bogan and the reprint follows.
Thanks for tuning in.
LOW POWER MODE: I sometimes put the blog in what I call LOW POWER MODE. If you see this note, the blog is operating like a sleeping computer, maintaining static memory, but making no new computations. If I am in low power mode, it's because I do not have time to do much that's inventive, original, or even substantive on the blog. This means I am posting straight shares, limited content posts, reprints, often something qualifying for the THAT ONE THING category and other easy to make posts to keep me daily. That's the deal. Thanks for reading.
Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #365 - Memory, a poem, Writerly Wednesday
Hi Mom, I didn't get this written on what is now yesterday, the date and time stamp of the entry for Wednesday, July 06 2016, one year to the day since I started this blog.
I had considered writing more end of a full year wrap up type stuff, so I delayed posting as I caught up on work and considered what I would share. But I have decided to maintain my schedule of special features with a poem on a Wednesday (at least until I run out) and a throwback photo on Thursdays. I will let the wrap up of my blog and its process leak out slowly or get featured in a different post soon. There's many other things going on now, too, so I may more to share on life changes soon as well.
I wanted to find a poem that was in some appropriate to mark this milestone and to you, Mom. As I have said before, doing this poem feature gets me reading poems that I have not read, looked at, or even thought about in many years.
This poem looks to be last touched back in 1993, when I was still serious about writing "literary" prose and poetry, the year a story of mine -- "600 Cows" -- was published in anthology of Michigan writers.
This poem came from an exercise I gave myself in responding to another poet's poem. Louise Bogan has a poem called "Memory," and so this is my response to that poem.
I could go find my book of Bogan's poems and probably find the inspiring poem and retype it, but this is a lot of work, and I don't think it illuminates my poem very much. In fact, if anything, putting a great poem by Louise Bogan here on this page with a mediocre poem by me would be depressing. And I have enough that is depressing already.
As always, my style shows that I am in love with language and the sounds of language, but maybe I cannot bring it all together with meaning and rhythm and lyric in a masterful way. However, I do like my use of nouns as verbs as in how memories "corner in cabinets" or how the bird "shoe boxes," which is meant to be more obviously noun turned verb than it is in my composition.
I think the poem has some lovely turns of phrase, but overall, it could use a major rewrite.
I wonder if your reading experience is improved by this honesty and commentary. :-)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
MEMORY (a reply to Louise Bogan)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a poem by christopher tower
Do not knit your patch-works like bugs
Startling colors pinned to felt --
Curiosities, which once knew flight
In open skies, are now abandoned under glass.
Do not dress yesterday's scraps
With cape and fedora.
Do not ignore these visions
Like the dust conjured near baseboards,
Always seen, always remembered,
But never swept.
Time is a miser counting his collections
Behind the scenes of our every moment.
His treasures demand that you capitulate
And horde and save and scheme to survive.
Minute-by-minute these embroideries of time
Re-stitch their patterns. They never
Pile as blanched stones out-posting grassy
Hilltops, nor corner in cabinets full of colored
glass dishes from a time before childhood.
But they may take shape as a starling found
With a broken wing, taken to shoe box
By the radiator, and fed with a bottle
from a doll's play set, and one day returned
carefully to the wind like precious china
to the sideboard.
-1993
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Reflect and connect.
Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.
I miss you so very much, Mom.
Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
- Days ago = 367 days ago
- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1607.06 - 10:10
NOTE on time: When I post late, I had been posting at 7:10 a.m. because Google is on Pacific Time, and so this is really 10:10 EDT. However, it still shows up on the blog in Pacific time. So, I am going to start posting at 10:10 a.m. Pacific time, intending this to be 10:10 Eastern time. I know this only matters to me, and to you, Mom. But I am not going back and changing all the 7:10 a.m. times. But I will run this note for a while. Mom, you know that I am posting at 10:10 a.m. often because this is the time of your death.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 2412.11 - 10:10
- Days ago: MOM = 3449 days ago & DAD = 105 days ago
- New note - On 1807.06, I ceased daily transmission of my Hey Mom feature after three years of daily conversations. I post Hey Mom blog entries on special occasions. I post the days since ("Days Ago") count on my blog each day, and now I have a second count for Days since my Dad died on August 28, 2024. I am now in the same time zone as Google! So, when I post at 10:10 a.m. PDT to coincide with the time of Mom's death, I am now actually posting late, so it's really 1:10 p.m. EDT. But I will continue to use the time stamp of 10:10 a.m. to remember the time of her death and sometimes 13:40 EDT for the time of Dad's death. The blog entry numbering in the title has changed to reflect total Sense of Doubt posts since I began the blog on 0705.04, which include Hey Mom posts, Daily Bowie posts, and Sense of Doubt posts. Hey Mom posts will still be numbered sequentially. New Hey Mom posts will use the same format as all the other Hey Mom posts; all other posts will feature this format seen here.
“Memory”
by Louise Bogan
from Blue Estuaries
1923
Do not guard this as rich stuff without mark
Closed in a cedarn dark
Nor lay it down with tragic masks and greaves,
Licked by the tongues of leaves.
Nor let it be as eggs under wings
Of helpless, startled things,
Nor encompassed by song, nor any glory
Perverse and transitory.
Rather, like shards and straw upon coarse ground,
Of little worth when found,--
Rubble in gardens, it and stones alike,
That any spade may strike.
LOW POWER MODE: I sometimes put the blog in what I call LOW POWER MODE. If you see this note, the blog is operating like a sleeping computer, maintaining static memory, but making no new computations. If I am in low power mode, it's because I do not have time to do much that's inventive, original, or even substantive on the blog. This means I am posting straight shares, limited content posts, reprints, often something qualifying for the THAT ONE THING category and other easy to make posts to keep me daily. That's the deal. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, July 6, 2016
 |
| saved Monday July 20, 2015 |
Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #365 - Memory, a poem, Writerly Wednesday
Hi Mom, I didn't get this written on what is now yesterday, the date and time stamp of the entry for Wednesday, July 06 2016, one year to the day since I started this blog.
I had considered writing more end of a full year wrap up type stuff, so I delayed posting as I caught up on work and considered what I would share. But I have decided to maintain my schedule of special features with a poem on a Wednesday (at least until I run out) and a throwback photo on Thursdays. I will let the wrap up of my blog and its process leak out slowly or get featured in a different post soon. There's many other things going on now, too, so I may more to share on life changes soon as well.
I wanted to find a poem that was in some appropriate to mark this milestone and to you, Mom. As I have said before, doing this poem feature gets me reading poems that I have not read, looked at, or even thought about in many years.
This poem looks to be last touched back in 1993, when I was still serious about writing "literary" prose and poetry, the year a story of mine -- "600 Cows" -- was published in anthology of Michigan writers.
This poem came from an exercise I gave myself in responding to another poet's poem. Louise Bogan has a poem called "Memory," and so this is my response to that poem.
I could go find my book of Bogan's poems and probably find the inspiring poem and retype it, but this is a lot of work, and I don't think it illuminates my poem very much. In fact, if anything, putting a great poem by Louise Bogan here on this page with a mediocre poem by me would be depressing. And I have enough that is depressing already.
As always, my style shows that I am in love with language and the sounds of language, but maybe I cannot bring it all together with meaning and rhythm and lyric in a masterful way. However, I do like my use of nouns as verbs as in how memories "corner in cabinets" or how the bird "shoe boxes," which is meant to be more obviously noun turned verb than it is in my composition.
I think the poem has some lovely turns of phrase, but overall, it could use a major rewrite.
I wonder if your reading experience is improved by this honesty and commentary. :-)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a poem by christopher tower
Do not knit your patch-works like bugs
Startling colors pinned to felt --
Curiosities, which once knew flight
In open skies, are now abandoned under glass.
Do not dress yesterday's scraps
With cape and fedora.
Do not ignore these visions
Like the dust conjured near baseboards,
Always seen, always remembered,
But never swept.
Time is a miser counting his collections
Behind the scenes of our every moment.
His treasures demand that you capitulate
And horde and save and scheme to survive.
Minute-by-minute these embroideries of time
Re-stitch their patterns. They never
Pile as blanched stones out-posting grassy
Hilltops, nor corner in cabinets full of colored
glass dishes from a time before childhood.
But they may take shape as a starling found
With a broken wing, taken to shoe box
By the radiator, and fed with a bottle
from a doll's play set, and one day returned
carefully to the wind like precious china
to the sideboard.
-1993
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Reflect and connect.
Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.
I miss you so very much, Mom.
Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
- Days ago = 367 days ago
- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1607.06 - 10:10
NOTE on time: When I post late, I had been posting at 7:10 a.m. because Google is on Pacific Time, and so this is really 10:10 EDT. However, it still shows up on the blog in Pacific time. So, I am going to start posting at 10:10 a.m. Pacific time, intending this to be 10:10 Eastern time. I know this only matters to me, and to you, Mom. But I am not going back and changing all the 7:10 a.m. times. But I will run this note for a while. Mom, you know that I am posting at 10:10 a.m. often because this is the time of your death.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 2412.11 - 10:10
- Days ago: MOM = 3449 days ago & DAD = 105 days ago
- New note - On 1807.06, I ceased daily transmission of my Hey Mom feature after three years of daily conversations. I post Hey Mom blog entries on special occasions. I post the days since ("Days Ago") count on my blog each day, and now I have a second count for Days since my Dad died on August 28, 2024. I am now in the same time zone as Google! So, when I post at 10:10 a.m. PDT to coincide with the time of Mom's death, I am now actually posting late, so it's really 1:10 p.m. EDT. But I will continue to use the time stamp of 10:10 a.m. to remember the time of her death and sometimes 13:40 EDT for the time of Dad's death. The blog entry numbering in the title has changed to reflect total Sense of Doubt posts since I began the blog on 0705.04, which include Hey Mom posts, Daily Bowie posts, and Sense of Doubt posts. Hey Mom posts will still be numbered sequentially. New Hey Mom posts will use the same format as all the other Hey Mom posts; all other posts will feature this format seen here.
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