• Home
  • Student Examples
  • Podcasts 2019
    • Podcast 2017-2018
  • AP Literature
  • English 9B
  • Skytime
  • English 9A

Slice of Life

Friday, March 1st

3/1/2019

6 Comments

 
Here it goes--a whole month of writing everyday. Here is another poem in process, currently untitled, that I wrote after reading "Heavy" by Mary Oliver. 


The things of the world that are 
kind and maybe also troubled: 

A pond with wind whipping 
the water into ripples. 

Teenagers who love to 
play Ping Pong 

Poets--some of them. 

My hands, dry and aging, 
looking like my mother's hands. 

My mother, who would have loved 
Mary Oliver, who maybe did love 
Mary Oliver before 
she forgot the things she loved 
and did not love. 

My mother, whose easy tears spring 
up in my eyes, who took people in to stay 
in the not-so-spare bedroom, who slept in a fold-out
couch to make room. 

My mother, who loved flowers and 
hands 
in the dirt.  Did she even 
own gardening gloves? Who never painted 
her nails or wore red lipstick 
but still loved a flowered dress. 

My mother, who loved me so much she 
let me go. 
For my own good. 
For my good. 


6 Comments
Jaana
3/1/2019 03:19:35 pm

These lines really spoke to me about your poem: "My hands, dry and aging, looking like my mother's hands." This made me remember my mother and how much good she did with her hands.

Reply
Heather Onderick link
3/1/2019 04:17:50 pm

Oh dear. This hit me hard. I lost my mom this year and your images and specific small moments sent me down some rabbit holes. I hope that writing this was therapeutic for you.

Reply
Alaina Feliks
3/2/2019 08:01:26 am

Thank you, Heather. My mom passed away a few years ago, and it has taken me quite a long time to figure out how to even start writing about her. It is therapeutic, though, when the words come.

Reply
hsatlas
3/1/2019 06:03:42 pm

Wow. I loved many of your lines about your mother. Your mother - who forgot the things she loved - that was my mother too. So difficult to watch. And I love how you said her tears spring up in your eyes. And I like the line of how your hands are looking like hers. I look in the mirror and see my mother. Beautiful post.

Reply
Alaina Feliks
3/2/2019 08:03:23 am

Thank you so much for sharing your connection. It was a little scary to post this out in the world, and I appreciate your kind words.

Reply
Purviben Trivedi-Ziemba link
3/1/2019 08:33:15 pm

What a beautiful slice :)

Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem and what a wonderful mom you have / had. Going for a teenager to your mom - the detour and reflection on your poem made me think you were the teen. Looking forward to reading more of your slices.

Purviben
http://trivediziemba.edublogs.org

Reply



Leave a Reply.

    Archives

    March 2020
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.
  • Home
  • Student Examples
  • Podcasts 2019
    • Podcast 2017-2018
  • AP Literature
  • English 9B
  • Skytime
  • English 9A