Sarah Flanigan - Poetry Simply Put

Hot, sultry, steamy. Labor Day weekend is a bust. Nothing to do but swelter and try to stay conscious. Relief doesn’t come. Sleep doesn’t come. The appetite is fickle and wants nothing I give it.

I’m beyond tired. My mind isn’t processing rightly. I’m angry and frustrated with everything.

I long for a quiet place - without room mates and neighbors or any intrusion - that is cool and let’s my mind wander to a place long time missed and nearly forgotten. Where I can string words into the portrait I see in my dreams.

The breeze comes and I am encouraged that there are cooler days ahead. Days with clear thinking and even revelation. Days when petty, slanderous remarks don’t affect me and I don’t mind so much that life isn’t fair. That people are cruel for the sake of cheap laughs and quick nods. That no one is paying attention to what matters and the price we pay for our ignorance.

But today, I meander through my own misery and stumble through my own labrynth of concept and ideals, right and wrong, good and bad. Today, I long for anything that will lift the weight from my head and the heat from my too-brown skin.

Tomorrow will come, it almost always does, and with it, a new bundle of complaints and bushel of victories. My eyes will see things differently and forget what they have seen today. My heart will glue itself back together and the drum beat that is life will call out - leaving behind anyone too slow to get in line.

copyright 2007

Dear Dad,

You’ve been gone a long time now. I still miss you. Obviously. We were the best of friends. Two peas in a pod. I was the chip off the old block. Much to Mom’s dismay. But maybe she didn’t really mind that much. Maybe secretly it made her proud that I loved you so. Maybe it assured her that I would grow up to be my own self - my own me.

So many things remind me of you. The early morning smell of coffee, deep and rich. Eyes, the color of the sky, backlit with sunshine. Strong, competent hands that know how to make things and fix things and hold onto things. A wink, a nod, that twinkle that says, “I understand.”

My memories aren’t the story or the words but the things that held me captive. That goofy grin of yours that I stole and made my own. Your proud exclamation that you were a hillbilly. The crook I snuggled into when I was tired or scared. The sips of beer I got for being ‘your girl.’ The collection of bows and arrows and rifles that hung on your wall. CB radios and old cars. Cowboy art and solving puzzles. You ground steel for a living but sowed seeds of curiosity in your kids. Your wisdom. Your kindness. Your papa-bear gruffness that could never hide your heart. All now, part of my heart, my being.

I just want to say, thanks - for always being there -for being my dad, my cowboy, my friend. For never giving up on me.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad.

All my love,

Sarah

My friend Evyl has posed a few interesting questions for me to answer. I thought I would share them here:

1. What is the most beautiful sight that you have ever seen?

This was a difficult question to answer because I don’t know if I could choose just one. And while there are many beautiful things I have seen in my life, the most beautiful are: The sun rising over the New Mexico desert as we headed to California. It was quite early and I was asleep in the car while my husband drove. He woke me quite suddenly because he needed to share the moment with me and I’m glad he did. Slices of light that gleamed orange, yellow, red and indigo, exotic cactus like hands pointing toward the sky as if to herald the new day, a kaleidoscope of nature. Breath taking.

Sealife in miniature, in a cove at Laguna Beach. Being from the Midwest, I’d never been to an ocean. The beach was white as snow, the water slate blue, tiny sea creatures caught in whirling pools, starfish, coral and what looked like flowers - we watched for hours, like children in our admiration and fascination.

The first time I ever went to San Francisco (by car). Northern California is a beautiful region, rolling hills, crisp blue skies, the seashore - the air is cold and feels wonderful blowing through your hair. We crested a hill just before we made our descent into the city - it was awe-inspiring, like a Disney creation. A perfect, beautiful city that seemed to have been plunked down for our enjoyment.

My sister in her wedding gown. She took my breath away. She has always been a beautiful woman but she was at that moment, the most beautiful woman in the world.

My mother’s hands. They are graceful, milky white, with long tapered fingers and perfect nails. When I was a child, I loved to stare at my mother’s hands and wished that I would have her hands when I grew up.

My father’s blue eyes. The color of the morning sky on a cloudless day. Startling and open. Kind and wise. They told you of his soul.

One spring morning, I rose early for no particular reason. It was cool and quiet. I went to the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee, wrapping my robe tightly around me to ward off the chill. I don’t know why but I looked out the window and I saw what you could call an Irish Misty morning. A vaporous mist played and danced over everything, the trees, the hills and made my yard into magical forest where leprechauns and faeries played and laughed. I think I stood at that window for an hour just to stay in that world as long as I could.

2. How’s the garden going and what is your favorite plant in your garden?

The garden is doing wonderfully. I planted in March and it wasnt’ long before the plants started to flower. I have wildflowers, cucumbers, yellow squash, onions, radishes, lettuce, four varieties of tomatoes, herbs, turnips and bell  peppers. The birds and the insects have respected the garden, and have thankfully, left most of it intact. Amazing really when you think of it, I use no chemicals or pesticides, only organic fertilizers. My favorite plant is the bean plant that sprouted out of nowhere. Last year I planted beans but decided to forego this year. However, somehow a seed managed to travel to the other side of the yard and take root. Just two weeks ago I noticed it growing a few feet away from the garden proper, its broad glossy leaves gleamed in the sun, with the tiny white flowers that promise edibles in the future. I’ve no idea how it did that but I can look forward to string beans this summer.

3. Why ask why?

Of all the questions there are, why is the best question to ask. We learn from this question, we expand our knowledge and viewpoints. We gain understanding of our fellows and it is the door which opens onto the universe.

4. What written work are you most proud of and why?

Sad Songs. Because it is a tribute to my brother and reflects what I would have wished for him at the end of his short life. The opportunity to  have said, “I love you” and “goodbye.” The story is dedicated to his daughter and son, who did not get to say goodbye and I love you.

5. Now come on tell the truth, what would I find surprising in your pantie drawer?

This question was interesting because I had to look in the drawer to see if anything would surprise you. In fact, there was something that surprised me: a black…leather…wallet.

So, there you have it, probably more than you wanted to know about me. Evyl, thank you for posing the questions. I enjoyed our interview, it was fun.

Love,

Sarah 

Hi everyone,
My friend Writer Chick, has a fun post up. It’s a round robin, in which all her readers can add to a group story. If you have time and interest, please go visit and add to the story if you’ve a mind to. I just did. This is fun!
Much love,
Sarah

After some thought, I’ve decided to take a self-imposed hiatus. I’m simply finding that I haven’t as much time as I once did. I also find I’ve not been able to concentrate on writing longer pieces. Given the aphrodesiac that blogging can be, I find myself resisting this move but I know I need to do it.

It may be a few days or a few weeks. I honestly don’t know at this point. Hopefully, when I return I will have more than a poem or two to offer.

I will do my best to visit my fellow bloggers and read - something which I’ve also been slacking in - sorry, it wasn’t intentional.

At any rate, hopefully, when I see you all again - I will have a renewed vigor and something worth reading.

Much love,

Sarah

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/v/cZhFmnNKffA]

I’m taking a little time out, in order to wish my dear friend, Spaz a happy birthday.

Darling, if you were here, I’d have a giant chocolate cake for you to devour and we’d have that drink we are always talking about.

I hope you have a wonderful day and you get all your birthday wishes.

Stop by and wish her a happy birthday, folks. I’m sure she’d be happy to see you.

Sarah

I wanted to bring you some wonderful news. For those of you who know (and love) Jennifer - Winterland - there is an update.

Jennifer posted it on her blog here - so I will let you tell her in her own words.

 Jennifer, I am so very happy about the news. It seems our prayers have been answered.

Much love,

Sarah

I’ve been graciously tagged by A-Mum of Nanny’s Nook as a thinking blogger - and am quite flattered by the tag. The idea of the meme is to tag five other blogs that make you think. But the problem is, of course, that I think that my whole blogroll is made up of fantastic thinkers and writers.

So, I’m going to go against the rules.

In a previous post I lauded all those on my blogroll (at the time) and the kudos were very much deserved. But since then, I’ve stumbled onto a few more gems and I’d like to take this opportunity to talk about them.

I realize of course, this goes against the meme - but oh well.

Evan at Traces of Nuts is a young school teacher from down under, who tells the most delightful stories about his life and his students. Tongue is always firmly planted in cheek and whenever I need a lift, I  head straight over. He is just a delightful soul and you can never feel bad after reading about his adventures.

Lolly at Lovely Red Rose is like a favorite girlfriend who has invited you over for a cup of coffee and a chat. You never know what she will come up with but you always know that you’re welcome in her bright cheery corner of the blogosphere.

Kim at Good at Getting Better is a staggeringly talented poet. Her words speak to you, as though they are your own. An every-woman with whom you will identify, commiserate and celebrate.

Naughty Heather at Extemporaneous is a very new find for me and I’m loving her stuff. Sometimes funny, sometimes deep, always interesting. Of course, I’m coming back Heather.

Ozy at Ocellus is another new find and I am in awe of his use of language and metaphor. Modern and classic at the same time. His poems will give you pause and make you think.

Dave at Dave the Novelist is obviously, a novelist - but also does reviews of books and movies, is a self-published author and loves baseball (how could you not like that?).

Tom at Philnensia is another new find and a gem. He is quirky, spontaneous and full of love of life. I always picture him with a wide grin and a great idea lingering in the back of his mind.

Robert at Dragon Life is a man who is all about the dragons. He writes about them incessantly and truly loves what he is doing. A true bon vivant who you will find to be charming and fun.

So that is my version of this meme. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve broken the rules. But I really wanted to share all of my new finds and hope you will visit them and love them just as I do.

Sarah

Hi Everyone, I know many of you know Jennifer of Welcome to my Shoe and the difficulty she has gone through during her pregnancy. She recently sent me an update and I wanted to pass it along to you. I’ll just let Jennifer tell you in her own words, below:  

“Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well be your own instead of someone else’s.”

– Billy Wilder

Billy Wilder, the Austrian-American film director who gave us classic films like the farcical Some Like It Hot and the sardonic Sunset Boulevard,  as well as The Lost Weekend, The Apartment, Double Indemnity, Stalag 17, Witness for the Prosecution and many more.

 His, was a true rags-to-riches success story. Born in 1906 in the Austria-Hungarian empire, he fled the Nazi regime in 1934, arriving in Los Angeles with $11 and speaking almost no English. By the 1950’s, he had become one of Hollywood’s greatest directors, directing more than 60 films. He won six Oscars and the National Medal of Honor. He died in 2002.

If you have never had the pleasure of watching any of his many movies, do yourself a favor and rent a few of them. This man was a true writer and knew his craft. Watch his movies, read the scripts and study them - he has much to teach us.

Sarah