sky where roof used to be

Sky where roof used to be
where everything you’ve lost is found
air full of past
burn destructed and then reborn

belonging in harm’s way
courting gratitude
for memories held that don’t
wisp away like smoke
embers fall from grace

ledges of life
roughly reassembled
out of synchronicity
papery images of past

going home
I drive by
burned roof open to moving sky

This poem was inspired by actual events (I guess all poems are, in one way or another).

One morning, driving to school, we noticed that a house on a street near the school had partially burned. My youngest daughter remained fascinated by the sight of it for weeks, as did I. We wondered what the story was: who lived there, were they OK, and what caused the fire?

Then the story appeared in our local paper. A woman had lived in the house with her cat, she had Alzheimer’s. Her son lived next door. Early one morning she was sitting out on her front porch when a neighbor (not her son) noticed the fire and helped get her off the porch and save her cat. She may have left the burner on, heating water for tea, she can’t remember. No one was hurt in the fire and everyone is grateful. It was her dream house, it will be rebuilt.

A few days later, driving by the remains of the house I was struck by the phrase, “sky where roof used to be” as through the jagged hole in the damaged roof you could see the juxtaposed blue sky and the clouds moving through it. I was inspired to construct a poem based on that phrase and the story of the woman, and wanted to have a photo of the damaged roof with the sky. I kept meaning to stop and take the photo. One evening, driving home from back to school night, I remembered again that I needed to take that photo. I kept driving as I felt the pull to get home as I’d been gone for several hours. Then something inside compelled me to turn back and actually get the photo taken.

The next morning I drove by the house again and the roof remains had been demolished to make way for the rebuild.

I finished this poem a few days later.

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Appropriate language

The longer I stay away, the more daunting it seems to come back…  This is my blogging experience.  I have been writing…some.  Following is a work I produced at a summer writing program (SWP) way back in June. It was such a blessing to have been able to take a week out of a busy summer home with my kids and devote it to writing.   The poem includes borrowed words and phrases from poems of Alice Notley and Doug Oliver, old American folk music, and some Bob Dylan songs, which means it is an appropriated language poem of sorts, which is double layered in here since Alice Notley’s “In the Pines” poem (which is one of the sources) also contains appropriated language.

I
And you go walking
flurries on the other side
featureless trees alive with night
clear to the bottom
uneasy in their resting place
will to go, jettisoned, distracted

II
The usual crowd was there
wrong about everything
think how they sound
lonesome eerie veiled sound
of the periphery
holes filled with background
burden
glory well of sorrows
flashes false
a price is no price
subtled in habit
arrow on the dark night of grief
taking down the stars above
plantations burning

III
a bird, end down, slept in the pines
a movement takes under
seems to be all there is
if the cold wind sun never shines
where will you go?
tears are calling
to cross over everything unresolved
crickets, not a word of good-bye
going home travel loves motion
white linen
my magic, god like mysterious fortune
a face you almost remember
there’s plenty of rest here
heavily guarded, my own soul.