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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NOVEMBER 29, 2010 12:34AM

Sanctuary. Sunday Nov 28, 2010

Rate: 12 Flag

My borrowed desk.  The laptop fan.  A lamp
I picked up at Ikea.  And the peace
That comes from kids asleep, who put their stamp
On ev'ry bit of day.  The night's release
From "Don't come in my room!" or "Wash my HAIR?"
Affords a moment just to sit and stare,
And thank them, silently, for being there.

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"For just being there" says so much. And I remember so well, it's very nice to feel that while its quiet in the house!
Oh DB, that's so perfect. Yes, the "Wash my HAIR?" question, as if I've just suggested rat poison. I'm sitting and staring with you. Sleep well.
It sounds like lots of love in that house and in that poem.
rated with love
You say so much in so few words. Very relevant and vulnerable. Brutally honest. Beautifully paternal.
Your poem is perfectly titled.
Beautiful. Just beautiful. I've had that feeling with my kids and grandkids, pointy unwashed heads and all. R
I thank them, too, and you.
Sublime feeling, sublime moment. What I miss most since losing my brother. R
When they're old enough, your kids will be touched by this. As I am.
This is perfectly written and perfectly titled! Just their being there means so, so much! When my grandchildren arrived Wednesday night last, I heard that query, "Wash my Hair?" from my granddaughter when her mother said it had to be done. She had spent the night with a friend a couple of nights earlier and they had used hair paint (in some places to excess). My granddaughter was reluctant to part with said paint. By Saturday (as seen in my pictures) her hair was its beautiful brown again, much to grandma's relief. Thank you for all your poems reveal of you and in me.
it's a wonder one writes after all that, and not fall asleep on said desk
lovely, lovely
Oh beautiful release ....

DB, I smile at the thought and with the knowing that, even though exhaustion at the end of the day finds you needing to just sit and breathe and replenish your mind and soul, your thoughts turn to the kids and that you are so very thankful they are there with you.

Beautiful ...
How rare are the moments when gratitude for such as this is shared. You truly are a gift to us all.