Vanessa Shields's Blog, page 26

Poem 252 – Contemplations on Morning Choices

Contemplations on Morning Choices

What makes a morning body
Want tea instead of coffee?
Oatmeal instead of eggs?
Sleep instead of exercise?

These questions as I sip tea
Eat oatmeal while yesterday’s
Coffee and eggs hold protest
Signs in my thighs:
COFFEE IS BEST!
EGG-XELLENT CHOICE!

Exercise is rare in the morning
Poor choice is huddled out front
Behind the giant maple
And sleep

Sleep is a goddess in a throne on my head

*yesterday I numbered the poem incorrectly. it should have been 251. today’s poem is 252.

FIVE DAYS LEFT TO SUBMIT!

A gentle reminder that there are five spectacular days left to submit to our poetry anthology on the theme of community!

SUBMISSION GUIDELINES HERE!

Poem 251 – Hiding in the Closet of his Room

Hiding in the Closet of his Room

… his bedroom on the third floor of
the house she longed to run through
smell the spaces touch everything especially
the staircase winding into the ceiling sky
so high when she looked down she felt
the rush of dizzy panic coupled with the
prospect of jumping and making a horror
scene in his perfect haunted house

Waiting, she sharpened her crime like a knife
as his sister strolled in casually asking him
about food or beer or whatever then she was
gone and his face was crooked with curiosity
her knees warm wax but usable and she
stumbled out of the closet darkness the
reek of his Drakkar Noir grasping her skin
like desperation and his lips were Mona Lisa’s
smile how could she not push on them
with her own?

His spit tasted bitter as she felt the sinful
hammer of his tongue nail in her mouth
and it was over too quickly and she felt
ashamed and excited and she knew it
didn’t mean anything on the outside
but her insides were hollowing with
the secrecy of cheating…

*FREE* Upcoming Workshop

I am leading two free virtual workshops with Assisted Living Southwestern Ontario (ALSO) on the theme of “Embracing Your Voice”. The workshops are geared toward persons with disabilities, able-bodied allies are more than welcome! Please note: Participation in BOTH workshops is highly recommended. Participants who register for Part I will automatically be registered for Part II. Registrations info below!

Assisted Living Southwestern Ontario Cyber Café Presents

Embracing YOUR Voice Virtual Workshops

ALSO welcomes Vanessa Shields, local poet/writer and owner of Gertrude’s Writing Room for a creative series!
WORKSHOP ONE: You Are Your Words – Embracing Your Voice Part I

DATE: Friday, September 17, 2021 TIME: 5pm – 6:30pm
In this workshop, we will explore the importance, the power, and the joy of our voice. Through discussion, we will consider real life examples of how we use, value, and empower ourselves through language. With the intention of building disability pride, we will discover the impact of owning our identity as people with disabilities. We will ask ourselves: If we ‘are’ our words, what words can we use to voice our needs, as well as our personal stories? 

WORKSHOP TWO: You Are Your Story – Embracing Your Voice Part II

DATE: Tuesday, September 21, 2021TIME: 5pm – 6:30pm
In this workshop, we will learn what a personal story is. We will discover how the stories we tell ourselves about who we are affect our daily choices. Considering the power of ‘we are our stories,’ we will tell a story about an object or experience of importance in our lives. We will ask ourselves: What is the relationship between our stories & our identity? 
*Participants are asked to choose an object of importance to describe, or share a story about a powerful life experience. For example: a stone, a photo, a blanket, etc., or a first-time event or a trip experience, etc.

Participation in BOTH workshops is highly recommended. Participants who register for Part I will automatically be registered for Part II. If you wish to opt out of Part II, please contact Evelina Baczewska at 226-759-8014 or EvelinaBaczewska@alsogroup.org

REGISTER AT:

www.surveymonkey.com/r/ALSOEVWorkshop or contact Evelina 226-759-8014 or EvelinaBaczewska@alsogroup.org

Registration closes on Thursday, September 16 at 4:30 pm

Poem 250 – Daily Self-Assessment Tool

Daily Self-Assessment Tool

Answer the following questions truthfully every day before beginning your work.

How old do you feel?
Have you felt lost in the last fourteen days? If so, did you find yourself?
Did you self-isolate and reflect upon your condition for ten days?
Have you come into contact with a person who lost herself? If so, did you share your experiences?

Have you felt any of the following symptoms:

Joy
Fear
Anger
Gratitude
Confusions
Rage
Elation
Hope
Exhaustion
Love

If yes to any of the above, quickly find a mirror, look into it, and smile –
You are not alone

If symptoms persist, self-isolate for 15 minutes and meditate, write in a journal and/or tell someone (including yourself) you love them. If safely possible, embrace.

Poem 250! That’s a big number! That’s a lot of poems, right?! It feels like a lot of poems! I was falling asleep on the chair and I awoke in a sweaty panic: you have to write your poem! A voice hollered at me. It’s been like these past few days…a soft forgetting followed by a startling remembering. Why is that? After 8 months of writing a poem a day? Curious. Very curious. I think it has to do with the time of day that I’m writing the poem. It’s not been first thing in the morning…I think I need to get back into that habit. It’s funny because most mornings I’m up early enough to write a poem…but my mind…my mind has been foggy…heavy…too packed.

In any case, we made it through the first day of school. I may as well have started school myself it all felt so alive in my body: nervous energy, anxious acrobatic animals in my belly…currently, I’m exhausted and will hobble to bed to read 1-4 pages before my eyelids close like a red velvet theatre curtain.

I feel like I’m not telling the deep truths in my daily poems. What does that mean? What am I avoiding? Or…are they just not ready? Because the poetry never stops writing in my head…when I walk, when I drive, when I’m writing other things…the lines of poetry float like black dots in my vision.

Certainly, if I filled out this Daily Self-Assessment Tool today I would have checked yes to all the symptoms. You too?

Huh.

Curious. Very curious.

The night is heaving in with more speed. Maybe that’s what I’m not ready for…the loss of daylight. I don’t know…tomorrow is another day, as my dear Nonna used to say. I’m off to bed to meet tomorrow sooner.

Poem 249 – Haibun for the Eve Before the First Day of School

Haibun for the Eve Before the First Day of School

It is the evening before the first day of school
one of many firsts that will linger in our storybooks
and simon & garfunkel
serenade the bivouac of butterflies in my belly
migrating the stunning history of music through me –

This bridge over troubled water is rickety and rambling
in the wind of COVID weather that keeps fear sutured on my hip

But it’s the evening before the first day of school
one of many that will linger in our storybooks
and I am witness to my children’s beginnings
while nostalgia dances in my veins like a solitary monarch
migrating from my past into this present day that feels
like tomorrow I’m beginning something new too

We’re in the middle of this bridge weeping into troubled water
dropping wish-heavy coins into whitecaps of hope

May eyes lead the day
In light-bright kindness for all
Under masks smiles root

HAPPY BACK TO SCHOOL!

Here’s to the bouquet of scents, the backpack of books, the many masks, the sticky sanitizers & soaps…to friendships new & old, to desks big & small…to hallways long & winding…to learning with passion & gratitude…

Stay safe! Be kind! Happy learning!

Poem 248 – Write a poem about friendship, she says

Write a poem about friendship, she says

I kiss her forehead then her cheek
Her skin is so soft my lips confuse it with heaven
Her eyelids hold the red of recent tears

Friendship brings waters of one-ness to tsunami
It is a wild natural phenomenon that hurts
proportionately to its healing

It is a labyrinth of discovery
twisted with paradox

Friendship is a phantom limb
another organ – a second heart and a third skin

It is of the self
beyond the self
entirely utterly essential

Friendship is a lighthouse – a beacon
an intentional navigation aid for
each hour’s coastline
and it is also the boat and the weather

I kiss her forehead again
then her cheek
sometimes friendship is confusion
heaven spits colours that can make you cry

Poem 247 – Last nights of summer

Last nights of summer

last weekend of summer calls for late night windsor pizza
making traditions in chewy dough & melted Galati
stuffing mouths with sweet & salty filling bellies before bed
as the last Saturday of summer vacation slips into
the tomorrow of a new year
that begins in the sultry month
of September – Crayola marker stripes
vibrant, promising, not yet faded from
the press of fingers colouring in
maps of Canada
title pages
plastic caps
loaded with
teeth marks

Poem 246 – On Grant Applications As Considered by Shirley Valentine (in conversation with Wall)

On Grant Applications As Considered by Shirley Valentine (in conversation with Wall)

Oh Wall, are we doing this again?
Am I right heading ‘round the bend believing
my writing is good enough for a fat wad of money?
Wait a minute!
Oh Wall! It is good, my writing!
You know it. Of course you do!
I’ve been reading it out loud to you for decades
You never complain, do you Wall?
I make a mean eggs and chips, and I write a grand sonnet, I do!
So let’s do it, Wall!
Let’s be courageous and fill out the forms
Let’s have another go of it, shall we?
My words are right as worthy as everyone else’s!
After, Wall, we’ll celebrate with a big glass of wine by the beach
the sunset will want to hear my words too, you reckon?
I’ll read some out loud, right Wall?
Right. I’m on it, Wall, like my vagina around
a handsome man’s – well, you know what I mean, Wall

For the Shirley in me…

I just rewatched one of my favourite films, Shirley Valentine. It has lifted my heart beat and tossed it onto the Mykonos shore in Greece!

If you haven’t seen this lovely, funny, provocative, profound film, I urge you to! (I mean, the scene about the clitoris is right incredible, I tell you!)

Shirley Valentine, One for the Road was originally penned as a one-person play in the form of a monologue by writer Willy Russel.

Poem 245 – How to do Something: Hang a Wet Pillowcase on the Clothesline

How to Do Something: Hang a Wet Pillowcase on the Clothesline

pull out the line
stretch it across the weed-woven lawn
be mindful of dog piles of shit, edges
whitening from the heat
clip the metal onto the hook
tighten the line
it needs to be taut to hold the wet

from the broken teal hamper
take out the crumpled pillowcase
hold two corners, one in each fist
snap it out untwisting it in the excited wind
before it lands cold on your thighs

think of your grandmother in her yard
clotheslines permanent between two iron crosses
the wrinkled ziplocks
the crusty rug
the bird shit like scabs on the poles

cry if you will at the memory
of her body, now a ghost seeping
through the rips in the ziplock
considering the squirrel plucking at the red rug
enjoying the avian Pollack on the iron
everything touchable but her

take out two wooden clothespins
fold the pillowcase over the line
squeeze and bite the cotton

…the holding down
wooden mouths wailing

Thank you to Jude Neale for the prompt: write a poem about how to do something, during her prompt workshop offered by Planet Earth Poetry.

Poem 243 – Upon Entering My Bedroom After Dinner

Upon Entering My Bedroom After Dinner

the way the smell of our meal
lands like a room within a room
curtains of carbs
bed of butter
egg yolk sizzle

moments in a house
when it reveals its layers
the way it decorates
with scents

paints nostalgia
in my nostrils like
hair triggers for when
a waft of the past expands
in a foreign air around me

keeping me home

Poem 243 – Kempe: Creature

Kempe: Creature

She names herself
Creature:

this creature this
this creature that
and the Lord visited this creature
and this creature keenly wept
and this creature extravagantly sobbed*

These are this creature’s words in the best
way she can offer them as this creature
is a woman forbidden to read and write
in her time

She names herself
Creature:

What’s in a name?
a world of sin and repentance
a galaxy of crying and devotion
the infinite expanse and heavenly girth
of calling oneself that which is
every thing created: human animal fantastical

The weight of such a name –
the endearment of it
her crown under the patting palm of God

*pg. 58, The Book of Margery Kempe

And so, I reveal to you the theme of my next poetry collection: the ‘creature’ herself, Margery Kempe. Born in 1373 in what is now King’s Lynn, Norfolk, Kempe is known as the first woman to create an autobiography, making her one of the earliest known female authors…she was also a known as a medieval mystic as her book exemplifies the many visions and visitations she received from Jesus (aka Lord, God). I was first introduced to Kempe by Jane Christmas, a mentor and memoir writer herself! Thank you, Jane. I’ve been reading Kempe’s life story and I can feel her getting closer…magical things are happening around me/to me that is gathering an energetic pull from a very powerful spiritual female. I feel both scared and honoured and extremely curious about what will be revealed on the page through poetry. There may or may not be more poems inspired by Kempe. We’ll see.

Happy Book Release Day to Charis Cotter!

Today marks the official birth of Charis Cotter’s newest middle-grade novel, The Dollhouse: A Ghost Story! The book is now for sale from all your favourite book-selling locations!

To find out more about The Dollhouse, visit Charis’ website HERE.

To order the book, CLICK HERE!

Quite soon, I’ll have a special guest interview with Charis as well as my review of this stunning new story she’s woven (weaved?)!

CONGRATULATIONS, CHARIS!