Past and Future: Always in Sight

National Poetry Month Display @ Forest Hills (Photo credit: mySAPL)

When the Poetic Asides prompt rose before me on the screen this morning, my mind began to whirl. With a prompt that simply said “Write about something from before your time,” multitudes of possibilities vied for my attention.

What kind of things from the past? What memories of family stories should I tempt with an escape path? Should I do a poem about an event that occurred just before my birth that I could not have witnessed, but which affected me in a personal way?

The poem that I chose to do is one which speaks to and of times in the dim past; time when gods walked among men and creatures of lore were commonplace; a time, whether mythical or real, continues to form much of the basis of literature today.

I hope you enjoy this small effort of mine. It will soon take its place within a book of poetry that I’m working on titled “Forest Primeval,” after I’ve done a thorough rewrite of it.
In The Beginning

When moss covered your stone walls,

And days crept to the staggered step of age,

Memories became legend,

Legend moved to make myth of history.

Horses flew, Olympus reigned.

Dwarves burrowed deep, hammers ringing against gold,

Forging palace treasures bright.

Giants walked and played with gods on this Earth.

Gods fought, jealous foes did war,

Gods’ magics did turn, slaying their jester.

Fist-held power strangled all,

Lightning struck both bearer and those fleeing.

Winged horses, heroes gone,

Man-eating play things making Earth their home.

Beware, Mighty Ones, servants

Who have power to shape the world they own.

For magic ones did travel,

Living where whim allowed for freedom’s play,

Cared not for old gods’ verdicts,

But for personal power gain in time.

Only time will show what prompt will appear for tomorrow’s test of poetic endeavor. Be sure to stop back by to see what time will bring out into the open.

© Claudette J. Young 2012

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A Poem We Will Go

 

The Old English epic poem Beowulf is written in alliterative verse and paragraphs, not in lines or stanzas. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Poetic Asides’ annual April Poem-a-day Challenge has begun. Today’s prompt dial landed on aspects of communication.

Love poems, rejection poems, personal and impersonal, fast and future, funny, and poignant; words flow from diverse poems worldwide in this marathon of lyricism.

The first thing that came to mind when I saw the prompt this morning was conversation. People communicate on multiple levels the majority of the time. A voice’s tones, a word’s inflection, all communicate a separate message. Otherwise, sarcasm wouldn’t be as cutting as it is.

My mind focused on what one could overhear that says one thing on the auditory level. On the visual level, however, another conversation would take place. Meanings take on a depth that sometimes has to be seen as well as heard.

This was my first post on Poetic Asides (PA) this morning.

Five-Star Dining

“Did you eat?”

“Some hours ago.”

“Oh? Disappointing?”

“I hate dining out now.”

“And why is that? Please tell me.”

“I get no satisfaction now.”

“In what way?”

“Salivation.”

“Oh. Did you get bored?”

“My server had no taste.”

“Do you need help finding new foods?”

He shook his head as he drew her near,

Nuzzling close.

“You’ve got me spoiled.”

She threw back her head,

Laughing with abandon.

Power came with submission.

“Drink, darling, of my vintage wine.”

He drank deep,

Her essence warm,

Her love new again.

“You’re intoxicating.”

His bloody mouth left her throat.

“You’ve never learned. Home cooking’s best.”

For those who’re connoisseurs of fine poetry, forgive my liberties with form and subject. I had deliberate intent.

There is opportunity later in the day to post more poems for this prompt, and I might do just that given spare time.

I hope you enjoy my efforts throughout this month. Drop by often to see where prompts and personal thoughts take my poetry for this challenge. Be sure to drop in a comment when the spirit or Muse moves you.

© Claudette J. Young 2012

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Tantrums and Grandparent Woes

 

Do you remember throwing a temper tantrum as a child? If so, where were you and who calmed you down? Do you remember the reason for the tantrum?

I have one memory of such an event and there’s very little to it. I was at my father’s parents’ house. I stood facing my grandpa, who was trying in vain to placate me. My young five/six year old self was having nothing to do with placation.

My parents had promised to be home soon and they hadn’t come yet. Were they dead and no one had told me? Where were they and why weren’t they here?

Neither Grandpa nor Granny could calm me down. I was furious, terrified that I’d never see my parents again, and I was headed for a complete meltdown. The end of my memory was where I kicked Grandpa in the shin as hard as I could and demanded he produce my parents “right now!”

My mother, many years later, told me that she and Dad had remained in town to visit other relatives while my little brother and I went back to my grandparents’ home. She said that they’d been delayed for a couple of hours because of friends and other relatives taking up their time.

It seems like a simple enough explanation, and one that probably would have worked on an older child who wasn’t terrified that her parents were lying dead somewhere along the road. I never bought it, she said. Their excuse was never accepted by me. I believed, though I didn’t want to, that they’d lied to me when they said they’d be home shortly.

Looking back on it now, from so many years into my own future, I can understand my fears and accusations. I quail to think of my striking out at that most gentle of men, my grandpa, even as I can fathom the depth of my feelings. I can’t remember if I ever apologized for my actions that evening.

There are some fears that take precedence over logic. Fear of abandonment is a child’s worst nightmare. Does a child ever outgrow that tendency to hang on so that the caregiver can’t disappear? Does that fear develop from a toddler’s misperception that a person/thing disappears when no longer in view?

I’m sure I don’t know the answer to that question. I doubt the experts do either. I do know that when I invest my trust and love in a person, I expect them to honor it and not throw me curve balls. I’ve always had that response in relationships, whether within the family or those outside of it.

Perhaps Grandpa’s mistake in dealing with me and my fears was actually two-fold. He tried to speak to me in a reasonable tone and manner, and he didn’t know where my parents were and admitted it to me. Grandpa’s are, after all, supposed to be all-knowing, all seeing, and above all else, always right!

If I ever threw another tantrum, I don’t recall it. Thank God! The recollection of this one has haunted me for enough years already.