Nomad No More – A Chaucerian Stanza +1

Between 9 and 3, I used to wander

Down lonely paths and quiet streets in town

This nomad time allowed me to ponder

All my life’s ins and outs and ups and downs

But now I’m kept hostage by this virus crown

Physically restricted, no place to be alone

My nomad gifts this suffering, for sins I must atone

24 hours a day, 7 days a week

wk-152-nomad

This is my first time writing for Sammi Scribbles’ Weekend Writing Prompt – this weekend is #152 – Nomad, 68 words. I found her site courtesy of Sadje’s site. I love how inspiration and connection is a hallmark of the WordPress blogosphere!

I also tried to connect it to Frank’s dVerse Meeting the Bar request to write a Chaucerian Stanza of 7 iambic pentameter lines with the rhyme scheme of ABABBCC. I missed the Mr. Linky deadline for that prompt, but it’s probably for the best since I went over the 7 line maximum by 1 line so I could fulfill Sammi’s 68 word request. I will attempt Frank’s challenge again though!

This theme of “competing demands” reflect more of my “current coronavirus conundrums”. While I might seem extroverted, on the deep inside is an introverted soul who needs alone time to recharge and refresh.  I used to be able to find this alone time when my children were in school (hence the reference to “9 AM to 3 AM” in the poem) and I could wander and wonder in a pseudo-nomadic state.

I don’t think my children knew this about me. When I pick them up from school, I am refreshed and ready for our afternoon and evening interactions. On the weekends, my husband is there to cover the times I would step away to recharge.

Being with them 24/7 for the past three weeks (has it only been that long that we’ve had the shelter in place order?), they have found out my secret the hard way. Now, they know that I need an hour at least by myself in the morning. They know that they need to occupy themselves with school work or playing or even (gasp!) TV or video games for that time. They know what the consequences are when I don’t get that recharge time, and how vastly more pleasurable it is at the home when I do.

In return, I have also learned more about my children’s needs at their current ages (versus when they were babies and toddlers, how they have changed!). After lunch is when my older daughter needs her alone time. My younger son needs cuddles and snacks around 3:30 (which is when we usually get home from school). My older son needs to have outside time in the middle of the day no matter what the weather is. My younger daughter needs to do something creative every day to stay happy.

Having this time with my children when they would usually be in school has been an unexpected gift from this otherwise greedy coronavirus. I read the stories about how COVID-19 has taken lives, taken jobs, taken people’s sense of a “normal life”. I wonder how many stories there are out there about what this period of time has given to people. I wonder if people would even realize that they’ve also been given a gift.

 

(c) 2020 iido

Holding the Glimmer – A Sonnet

A glimmer of God I feel in your touch 

As your head turns to the sound of my voice

Your eyes see me as one who knows so much

Aware that I held the power of choice

 

The transformation came awhile ago

From the seed that was planted deep inside 

Yet my mind still accepted these changes slow

Despite my body being modified 

 

And then like a flash in the dark of night

A surprise, this gift you bestowed on me

The honor of knowing love at first sight

Your touch confirmed that I am your mommy

 

That point of love exponentially grown

I pray to deserve this baby on loan

 

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This sonnet was inspired by Patrick’s Pic and a Word Challenge #225 – Glimmer and Frank at dVerse who requested poems with couplets.

The biggest inspiration though was my friend, Lindsay, who gave birth to a beautiful baby boy this past Wednesday.  Amidst the scariness of this pandemic, miracles of life still happen!  The above poem isn’t her birth story (Lindsay is a wonderful mom to a 2-year-old already) but maybe it’s yours or someone who you know.

I have to admit, with all the forced togetherness, I have forgotten at times that children will act like children and the mandate – whether from God or Gibran – is to be more like children.  So yesterday, we did no school work and played outside, enjoying the sun and observing the flowers that have blissfully blossomed, unaware of the threat of illness or death.

Children are truly a gift – they know what is important in life. It’s none of the things that adults think are important and that is such a wonderful blessing.

 

(c) 2020 iido

Patient Anticipation – A Poem

I’m waiting for you

To put on your clothes

You can’t decide between

Dogs on your shirt or stripes

The clock ticks

I’m waiting for you

To brush your teeth

So I can have my turn

You spit not in the sink

The clock ticks

I’m waiting for you

To eat your breakfast

While I’m packing a lunch

I know you won’t eat either

The clock ticks

I am waiting for you

To tie you shoe

The bunny ears are too big

But you say you can do it

The clock ticks – we’re late for school

I’m waiting for you

To come out of school

The clock ticks – the patient anticipation

Feels like the nine months

I waited

To show you the depth of my love

This poem was written for Patrick’s Pic and a Word Challenge #206 – Depth and #207 – Waiting. I am finally caught up!

I have had a lot of time to contemplate waiting – having kids gives me plenty of opportunity. I usually do try to be patient, to show them that they are “worth waiting for”.

But sometimes I am stressed because we are late or because I have to do something else that seems more urgent – and in those times, I am not patient. Sometimes I am even angry and spewing all sorts of non sensical threats and pronouncements.

And after I’ve calmed down (and we’ve arrived where we need to be or done what we need to get done), I usually end up apologizing and explaining why I was so upset. I also talk about what I could have done better and what they could have done better and encourage them to give me and their siblings feedback as well.

It’s an imperfect process and one that is often repeated in our house. Getting all of us out of the house and somewhere on time is feat we always acknowledge!

Still, if getting there on time didn’t really matter, I do try to wait for them – to practice their self-care skills (brushing, buttoning, tying, etc.), to finish the story they are telling me, to finish looking at the caterpillar crossing the sidewalk, to finish enjoying their childhood.

©️ iido 2019

OctPoWriMo Day 9: Looking Away

Sometimes, I cannot look at you
Because your adoring eyes
See what I cannot
I’d rather gaze upon a light
That – though bright – cannot see
The real me
That only brightens with a flick
Of my finger
And not when I enter the room

Sometimes, I cannot look at you
Because your eyes might hold anger
Or worse – disappointment, disgust
I cannot swipe left to get rid of
How that would make me feel
There is no X-out
Or control-alt-delete
There is only “I’m sorry”
Which doesn’t erase the memory cache

Sometimes, I cannot look at you
So I train my gaze on
What I feel I can control

Finally joining in on OctPoWriMo (6th Annual October Poetry Writing Month)! It’s Day 9 and the prompt today is hosted by Michelle, the theme is seeing/perception.

This poem came to me as I glanced at my phone thinking of a poem while ignoring my kids. Yes, it happens – probably more than it should, although I am trying to be more mindful of my electronic device usage. The kids are watching!

©️ iido 2019

What’s for Dinner? – A Metaphorical Poem

My body flops – fettuccine flat,

Limp from being over-cooked

In this marinade of

Too little thyme

Too much OregaYes

A large pinch from Rosemary’s Baby

I’m in hot water

Simmering

Waiting for the main ingredient

That chunk of meat

That should taste so good

Yet now is dead weight

The carcass of my life

Boiling over

Still, I have room for dessert

Hello! Hello! It’s been a while…I’ve been…”cooking”…the picture above is my version of Filipino Pancit Canton. My mom gave me a recipe but, like in life, I didn’t follow her directions exactly.

    I used the the noodles that were available in the (non-Asian) market by my house (since I wasn’t able to go to the Asian market – these weren’t the correct type of noodle but it tasted fine).
    I used leftover char sui (or red meat) as my kids like to call it) instead of chicken, although I did end up buying a rotisserie chicken to add for lunch the next day since we ran out of char sui.
    I used bok choy (instead of shredded cabbage) since a friend had given me a bunch from her CSA box that she didn’t know what to do this (I was surprised they even grew that around these parts!).

The improvised dish was a hit! Which was wonderful considering what a difficult week my kids and I have had. This weekend was the first time in the past few weeks where I felt I had enough time and enough head space to do some writing!

Coincidentally, this poem’s conception was parallel to Bjorn’s prompt at dVerse to write a metaphoric poem. Mr. Linky is closed but I think this poem still counts!

Here’s to a new week and being the cook instead of the meal!

©️ iido 2019

Motherhood’s Constant Companion – A Poem’s

We stole down the stairs
Avoiding the creaky steps
Wedge heels in hand
I check my image in the mirror –
High waisted dark jeans to hold in the pouch
Three-quarter sleeves peasant blouse
Hiding all the upper jiggly parts

Hearing a honk, I exit the side door
I shouldn’t have been surprised that you jumped in the car with me
You weren’t even dressed
But you fit right in with the others
Crowding the car with talk of our escapes
And the reasons we decided to leave tonight

At the bar, even a few drinks didn’t convince you
That you should have stayed home tonight
Instead, you hugged me tighter
Constricting my heart
Keeping my thoughts on what I left behind

I looked at all the women who were alone at the bar
Talking candidly with friends
Accepting drinks from soon-to-be friends
Their jeans hung at their narrow hips
Their blouses baring the firmness of their inexperience

I look away, an awkward Cinderella who can’t wait for the clock to strike

Finally, heading home, pretending this was like old times
Despite the look of relief on all our faces
Knowing that we survived having you with us tonight

Oh Guilt,
Born the minute we heard our child’s first cry…
Motherhood’s Constant Companion

Back to school season has so many meanings and emotions for mothers. So Patrick’s Pic and a Word Challenge #202 – Mothers is so apropos! The picture I have used above was taken from Patrick’s prompt as well. I had originally thought to use a picture of mine but this photo of Patrick’s tugged at me. The innocent trust that children automatically give to their mothers (and fathers) is such a great gift but at times can also feel like a burden called guilt.

This poem was inspired by a recent MNO (Moms Night Out) – it was a spontaneous evening which was good and bad. I didn’t have time to really prepare the kids for my going out and that also meant, I didn’t have time to practice my mental gymnastics to justify leaving my kids and hubby for the night. Mom guilt is a real thing!

©️ iido 2019

Thoughts on Awakening – A Senryu

The joy of morning

Crowded out by pointy knees

In my lower back

(Yes, I know that picture is of frog legs and not of kid legs that kick and flail in the bed then eventually ending up across my neck while the other is jammed between L3 and L4. But I am usually too groggy to take a picture of said kids’ flailing legs when they are in the bed. )

Jamie’s Wednesday Writing Prompt when I was on vacation was to write about “What is it like when you are awaken in the morning? Are you up-and-at ’em right away?  Do you curl back up for a few moments of precious sleep?  Are you ever disoriented, perhaps not knowing the time or place?” You can read the poetic responses she received here.

Full disclosure, I am not a good sleeper which makes me a horrible waker-upper. I am usually not fully awake until around 10-11 AM. This is bad news for my family, especially my hubby who is in charge of breakfast and getting kids dressed in the morning by default. When he travels, our mornings are hectic and stressful. I will admit to relying on my older daughter to get me up since she has been blessed with the Early Bird Gene from her dad.

There are many reasons I don’t get a good night’s sleep but only two reasons that I wake up in the morning with aching shoulders and back. Wager a guess what these are?

****

Here are some more senryus/haikus on Thoughts on Awakening:

No, no, no, not yet
Keep that dreadful sun at bay
Snooze 10 minutes more

New day go away
My eye lids still seek the moon
I curl contented

I would love you, Dawn
But you are an Early Bird
My worm needs its sleep

Children wake refreshed
Sprawled out on a king sized bed
Parents on the edge

©️ iido 2019

Tygpress is NOT Authorized to Reprint My Blog Content

This post is a follow up on my previous post about Tygpress (hosted by Digital Oceans). They continue to scrape my blog as well as others’ blogs. We have lost one blog (maybe two) because of this issue and that makes me very sad.

Fandango created a badge that he kindly allowed other bloggers to use. I am going to be using this badge on all my posts going forward.

Also, check out this post at Renard’s World. He wrote a thoughtful article about this issue with some excellent explanations and suggestions about how to further handle this issue.

I hope you are not affected by this issue, but if you are – know that you aren’t alone and that there is something you can do about it. As for me, I will continue with my posting and and my brand new badge while continuing to explore options to shut down this unethical website.

©️ iido 2019

Love Works – A Senryu

Two rough reddened hands

Wash plates, clothes, floors and faces

Work softened by love

The senryu is for Patrick’s Pic and A Word Challenge #195 – Work. And yes, those dishes are a real example of the work I do as a stay at home mom (don’t ask about the chunky, frothy bits – I don’t know what they are either).

Patrick’s words about the “beauty of the moment taking work out of the job” really resonated with me. Being a stay at home mom, I’ve sometimes have to work really hard to find these moments!

I know I have many poems here about mothering – some funny and some serious but all coming from a place of love. The work involved with being a parent really needs that love – not love as reimbursement from our children and partners, but love as a no strings attached gift to our children and partners. I think about that when I am on my 5th basket of laundry (we are a family of 6!) or loading the dishwasher for the third time in a day. I don’t love the chores/work but I love the people. And there are days when they show their love for me by pairing the socks.

©️ iido 2019