Divorce Bard's Blog

...Iambic pentameter is for the ear. Read it out loud.

Divorce Bard

Divorce Bard
Location
pretty how town, USA
Birthday
February 13
Bio
While the ashes of marriage #2 were cooling, I began a journal here in verse, to keep myself out of trouble. So far so good, and one day at a time. I took a hiatus this past January, and I missed it terribly. Writing daily had changed the way I think - not my opinions, but the process of thinking itself. So here I am back again, and hungry. I began with three rules: (1) Iambic pentameter, (2) Perfect rhyme, and (3) It had to be true (no hyperbole). I hereby amend rule number 3: If I'm writing about myself, yes, it has to be true. But it doesn't, if I want to tell a story.

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SEPTEMBER 27, 2010 12:36AM

Shared Custody #2. Sunday Sep 26, 2010

Rate: 14 Flag

On days I take the kids to see a fair,
Or take a trip, or ride their bikes around,
Then hand them over to their mother's care
Approximately when the sun goes down,
Come bedtime, when there's no one here to share
The memories left over from the day,
I wonder then, if we were even there.
Their absence takes the memories away.

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You know that these are the memories that the kids will hold in their hearts forever - Even if it doesn't seem like it now.
This is why divorce is an adverse experience of childhood for the single parent. But don't let amnesia overtake---feel the love that lingers.
Memories need time to form, some come back when you aren't looking for them. They often need to be embellished and embroidered with photos and stories retold and jokes made. I am sure our 17 year old will only remember the ridiculous car ride we took yesterday, and the 13 year old who hiked and climbed around and took photos will remember the giant Meter crater. So it is.
That's right. You'll be driving somewhere and suddenly you'll hear from the backseat, "Remember when we...?"
What trilogy said: and you will remember, too.
"Their absence takes the memories away." Perhaps this is one of the reasons I beg my daughter to "let me take another picture..." ~r
The handing over as the sun goes down. Nothing easy there. Somehow I suspect that whichever hands tuck them in, they sense the other hands are there as well.
Every other weekend plus each Wednesday
a couple of weeks in the summer,
the emptiness of the afterwards is my most vivid memory
coming home and picking up the toys and books
knowing they will not move again for awhile
The deafening silence of the house
wishing it were morning so I could leave to work
Seeing them now, sometimes struggling,
they would be better today if not for my past
As the colourful rainbow leads to gold
Memories connect the family and hold
Happiness and warmth and joys to behold.
Beautiful memories. Treasures untold.
It can feel like the past moments haven't even happened when you have no proof, but I guess the proof is in your beautiful poetry.
You capture that feeling if mine from years ago quite well in pentameter. I am not thanking you for that, Bard. I am only saying that this one is on target.
Brassawe said my thought. Sometimes reading you opens a sealed cut.
Thank you for sharing these thoughts/feelings. You are there and I am going there. One thing I know is that the writing tempers the pain.
Hi everyone. I wish I could answer each of you individually tonight, because it looks like I touched a few nerves. But my post took me way later than I had hoped, and I'm going to tumble into bed.

Thank you for coming by. I am very grateful to you all for reading.

Goodnight!
This is so poignant, but the best memories I have every day were made by my dad!