Esther Spurrill Jones's Blog, page 19

June 12, 2016

Today she would be sixty-three.
On June 12th, 1953,
A baby girl was born, and she
Grew up, and she gave birth to me.

Today she would be sixty-three:
The one human who always loved me
From the very moment she
Learned my birth was to be.

I learned to love, I learned to be
The woman I was meant to be,
And she was very proud of me.
Today she would be sixty-three.

These Are Your First Steps - I Have Always Wanted to be a Jedi

When I was a child, I didn’t know if women could be Jedi. I knew Leia was “strong in the Force,” but she was always so angry. If Luke was too much like his father, then Leia was surely much too angry to be a Jedi. We all know that anger leads to hate which leads to suffering.

Personality-wise, I identified with Luke’s passionate desire to save people and with Obi Wan’s quiet life of hermitude. As an introvert growing up with seven younger siblings, I yearned for quiet and solitude. And yet, I also loved the excitement of the battles. I cheered for Luke when he destroyed the Death Star and for Leia when she choked Jabba.

When the prequels hit, I discovered that women could be, and were, Jedi. They were in the background, but they were there, and they appeared to be treated as equals by the rest of the Order. They made little impression on me, however, beyond their existence. I could imagine myself a Jedi, but I didn’t personally identify with any of them.

I fell more in love with Obi Wan here, identifying with him even more strongly than before, with his seemingly contradictory personality. He hates to fight, yet is one of the best swordsmen in the Order; he’s an amazing negotiator, yet would rather just be alone. I hero-worship Qui Gon, with his disregard for rules and authority when he knows they are wrong, and I dream of being Qui Gon, but I am really Obi Wan.

Padmé, like Leia in the original trilogy, is the lone main female character in the prequels, and I do love her. Unlike Leia, Padmé is not ruled by anger, and yet she never shows the slightest ability to use the Force. And she is not at all like me, with her fearless leadership and ability to stand before crowds and speak with authority.

I have always had no issue identifying with characters who are not my gender. King Arthur, Jim Hawkins, Jean Val Jean, Atticus Finch, Sherlock Holmes, Par Ohmsford, Alec Ramsay, Tom Sawyer, Luke Skywalker, Clark Kent, Bilbo Baggins, and Harry Potter each helped define my growing up into who I am today. And yet, I have a special place in my heart for Hermione, who loves to learn; for Menolly, whose love of music defines her; for Anne Shirley, who lives and breathes poetry; for Lucy Pevensie, who believes despite what others say; for Alice, who tries to make sense of a senseless world; for Meg Murry, who will stop at nothing to save her little brother; for Wendy, who is a surrogate mother to a bunch of boys; for Belle, who sees beyond the outward appearance to the heart. These too, made me who I am.

I never wanted to be a princess and, really, I never wanted to be a warrior. I want to be the hero who uses their brain and heart. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a princess or a warrior, it’s just not my personal desire. However, I always wanted to be a Jedi.

In The Force Awakens, I identify most strongly with Finn, who balks at the order to kill, who runs away and then comes back to help a friend. And yet… and yet. Rey, who is comfortable alone, who is confident in her own abilities, who feels as protective of Finn as he is of her, is finally—finally!—a female main character in which I can see so much of myself. Little girls today have a hero in Star Wars who shows them that they too can be a hero, that they can be a Jedi. Finally, because of Rey, I truly can see the Jedi within me.

The Judge

I stood with Jesus when the angry crowd called for His death,
Shouting, crying, “Crucify him!” upon every breath.
I stood and raised a hand and said, “I find no fault in him;
He’s not a threat to you or me, or anyone in Rome.”

I asked him if he understood the seriousness of the charges;
He answered not a word in his defense.
I asked the people, “Should I free Jesus or this Barabbas?”
They cried, “We want Barabbas, not pretense!”

I had him whipped and beaten as a ploy to save his life;
I wished to avoid riots and the resurgence of strife.
But nothing that I said or did would pacify the crowd;
They wanted this man Jesus dead; they shouted it aloud.

So then I said, “I wash my hands of this whole mess—you’ve won!
You want to kill him? Do it! I don’t care at all—I’m done.”
And so the crowd, they took him out to Calvary;
They took him and they crucified him there upon a tree.

I was not the soldier who nailed him to the cross;
I did not stand and watch him die in pain.
And yet, I am as guilty as the crowd who cried for death,
And I can never wash away the stain.

Some Days

Has it really been three years?
Some days, it seems much longer.
Am I forgetting you?
My life continues on without you:
I love, I laugh, I cry, I smile.
And yet, some days, it feels as if
Just yesterday I saw your face,
I felt your arms around me.

OctPoWriMo 31 - Journey's End

It's hard to believe another OctPoWriMo has come and gone, but here we are. Today's prompt is about journeys and endings.

Journey's End

Every end is a beginning;
Journey’s end can bring new life.
Everything is ephemeral
So enjoy it while you can.

OctPoWriMo 30 - Sensation

Today's prompt is to "write a poem that incorporates each of the senses." The cinquain seems fitting since there are five senses, but it has only five lines, and I had more to say. So each of the five stanzas in today's poem is a cinquain.

Sensation
I seeArt surrounds me,Beauty encircles me.Ask and receive; look and you’ll findBeauty.
I hearEverything sings;Music is everywhere.Listen! You will hear it as well:Music.
I smellSnow in the air,The crisp scent of autumn,Apples and pumpkins and spices,Fragrance.
I tastePumpkin, turkey,Sweet potatoes, and pie;Candy apples and pumpkin spice:Flavour.
I feelChill in my bones,Warm fire roaring bright,My lover’s warm lips on my skin:Touching.

OctPoWriMo 29 - Only Relief

Today's prompt asks us to think about an ending that was positive. I've written a rondel about my first boyfriend.

Only Relief

I felt no grief when he walked away,
Only relief that he was gone.
In his life, I was a pawn,
A decoration for display.

I’d told myself it would be okay.
I loved him; I thought he was the one.
I felt no grief when he walked away,
Only relief that he was gone.

It was a sunny summer’s day:
My best friend told me what he’d done;
I wasn’t enough; he wanted fun.
She’d spurned him, but he’d tried to stray;
I felt no grief when he walked away.

OctPoWriMo 28 - What Makes Me Beautiful

Today's prompt is to record myself reading my favourite poem out loud. I've done this before other years and, this year, I really want to write 31 new poems this month so I'm skipping this prompt.

There are two popular songs that have always bothered me. They are what you might call problematic. "What Makes You Beautiful" by One Direction and "Beautiful" by Christina Aguilera. Both of them, I believe, are trying to bring across a message of confidence in one's own beauty, but they both fall short.

When One Direction says, "You don't know you're beautiful; that's what makes you beautiful," they are implying that insecurity is attractive and, conversely, that a self-confident woman who knows she is beautiful is not attractive.

Christina says, "I am beautiful in every single way. Words can't bring me down," and that's good. But then, in the very next line, she says, "So don't you bring me down today." Wait, what? If words can't bring you down, why are you worried that anyone will bring you down? What can they do? She's undermining her message here.

I wanted to write a kind of response to these ideas, a poem of self-confidence. I believe that confidence is beautiful. Not arrogance, but knowing who you are. It's taken me a long time to get to a place where I can say that I am beautiful and mean it, and some days I still can't do it. But maybe this poem can remind me of what makes me beautiful.

What Makes Me Beautiful

I know I‘m beautifulThat’s what makes me beautiful
Paint your face
Dye your hair
Lose weight
Because you’re worth it

Take up space
Hear me roar
I create
My own self-confidence

I know I’m beautifulThat’s what makes me beautiful
Don’t tell me
My insecurities
Define me
I know I’m beautiful

For I know
My confidence
Defines me
That’s what makes me beautiful

I know I am beautifulThat’s what makes me beautiful

OctPoWriMo 27 - My Happy Ending

Today's prompt is about happy endings. "What is your happy ending?" I know I've written about my husband several times this month, and maybe I'm a bit sappy, but he's one of the best things in my life. He's my happy ending. Today's sonnet (Italian style) is written in third person, but "she" here is me.

My Happy Ending

Once upon a time there was a girl
Who dreamed of romance, chivalry, and knights.
Since she was young, her mind would tend on flights
Of fancy, free from fetters of the world.
Happiness, she thought, would be a whirl-
Wind love affair, consuming days and nights;
Of deepest depths and, oh, so dizzy heights.
Instead, she found love like a bloom unfurled,
A slow awakening like spring’s return.
Before she knew what happened, she would yearn
To be with him each moment of each day.
She was surprised to find her soul would say,
“This is my other half, the one for me,
My happy ending I could not foresee.”

OctPoWriMo 26 - The Eleventh Hour

Today's prompt is the Loop form, which is described differently on Shadow Poetry and on the prompt page. I decided to go with the Shadow Poetry description, and I ended up writing kind of a follow up to my paradelle from October 16. Again, this is about Doctor Who, but this time, it's about the beginning of the Eleventh Doctor's time (The Eleventh Hour).

The Eleventh Hour

Ring around the rosy
Rosy cheeks so red
Red as roses blooming
Blooming by the shed

Shed the bad wolf memory
Memory, say goodbye
Goodbye to loss and hello
Hello, my cool bowtie