tale of two poems

In one of my two creative writing classes I have been writing poetry. I have two that I would like to share. The first is from an assignment in which I had to interview someone 75 or older and write a poem about them. I decided to interview Grammy, and I had a wonderful time talking with her. She gave me a lot of information, which made the assignment much easier. The second assignment was done in class today. We picked 3-5 cards that had words and images written on them. One said "amulet," one said "size," one said "archetypal helper," one said "river", and one was a picture of hands. Anyway, I had to write a poem connecting the objects/words. It was not an easy task for the half hour we were given, but I came up with something, and that is the second poem.

Dancing

The lights blaze and the music pounds
from the nickelodeon.
I'm just a young girl who works
in the Chocolate Shop in Bisbee, North Dakota.
I dance with Harold,
a sister and brother.
We dance all night. A nickel per song,
and we dance until every song has been played.

Dad doesn't drink these days
He doesn't argue, doesn't beat up Mom.
These are the sweetest days.
We're happy.
I'm happy.
I dance.

In the morning I go to school,
the only school in Bisbee,
and I jump and dance with the rest of the cheerleaders,
"Bisbee can do what Cando can't do,
Cando can't do what Bisbee can do,
Yea Bisbee!"

Harry is in the Navy, Blanche lives with Marv.
When they come back home they refuse
to stay in a small town for long.
Mom won't live without her children.
And so we move
to Renton, Washington.

It's less than glamorous.
We live in a tent.
No bathroom. No running water. No electricity.
Worse than the primitive farm in Bisbee.
The cold seeps through the thin canvas
That shelters us from the weather.
I cannot get warm.

I start at Renton High School,
and we move to a new home.
Floors, walls, and ceilings.
Three small bedrooms,
a table and chairs and beds.
Pots of food are left by the previous tenants.
Feces on the walls.
But it is luxurious to us,
very different from our tent.

Mom buys her beauty shop, a beautiful
small shop in Skyway
next to a barber shop.
But Dad comes home drunk
and Mom has to hide us so he can't
beat us like he beats her.
He stabs her in the rib with a butcher's knife
and she files for divorce.

We do not live in fear after a time.
He's not coming back.
We live. We work. We host parties.
We dance.

The Amulet

The river widens at some points
And thins out at others,
But all the points still fade
Into the vast horizon.
It beckons me, calls me, pulls me
In with more force
Than I can stand.

Come to the amulet, it says.
The amulet knows all.
It will give you peace.
It will make you rejoice.

I walk, slowly at first,
Along the river’s bank.
Perhaps I am traveling a great distance,
But perhaps not at all.
The horizon never seems to get any closer.

I see a man beside the river,
A man who searches for water but cannot
Find the rush of the liquid before him.
“Here,” I say, dipping
My hands into the river.
“Drink, and be renewed.”
The old man drinks,
But once he has had his fill
He leaves without uttering
A word of thanks.

I feel the power of the amulet
Again calling me.
The river calls me.
It shows me the way.
But once I reach the river’s end
I only find a crystal lake.
No amulet, just my own reflection
Staring back at me.

unorganized

This semester is already almost half over. I can't believe how fast the time has past. Between trips home to Utah and going to classes (a much more difficult task than it sounds), I feel like I'm always incredibly unorganized. One look at my desk shows you how crazy my life has been. I haven't looked at my planner in a few weeks. I've been, to use a cliche that I hate, "flying by the seat of my pants." But I am still breathing. I am still living. My roommates are great. Every night we have apartment prayer, and that has become a great bonding time as we laugh and joke about the day and then calm down enough to pray. Sometimes it's difficult to settle down once we've started laughing. I am no longer the oldest girl in my apartment. NaDene and Monica recently returned from missions. They were companions, and together they bring a lot of life to the apartment. Clarissa and Izzy were in the apartment with me last semester, and they are both sweet girls. Emily is also really nice, though she is not often at the apartment because she has a boyfriend. Together, we all balance each other out, and we have yet to have any big conflicts. I really couldn't ask to be with a better group of roommates.