November Remembrances
Nov. 18th, 2013 08:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alee_grrlCross-posted at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
poetree. This is my entry for this week's community themed week about remembrance and memorial. I wanted to share this here as well because it is what I spent a lot of time working on last week. Post does not reflect my current mood. I am very happy and enjoying my birthday!
In the northern hemisphere November is a time when the days darken earlier and shadows seem more prevalent. This can make it easier for our personal demons to trouble us. As the holidays approach we often feel our losses more deeply. For many people I know November is a time for remembrance and memorial. Whether it is remembering their dearly departed on All Saints Day/Dios de los Muertos, remembering Veteran's and the cost of war on Armistice/Veteran's Day, or remembering holiday seasons past be they good or bad. For me personally it is a mix of all these things, plus the annual memorial that is my birthday, mixed with the anniversary of a dreadful storm that I witnessed as a child.. Most would not think of birthdays as memorials, but in the sense that it is a day for remembering and contemplating the past I find that birthdays are the ultimate memorial. I felt it fitting that I start our week on remembrance and memorial since today is my birthday.
It is a month that always makes me think of the past and the many uncertain associations that I have with the month. It is also a time for me to reflect on the positive things that have come into my life, and the wonders of friendship and love that I've experienced as I've grown older. I wanted to write a poem that captured this mix of feelings and contemplation. I am going to put the poem under a cut as it may contain some triggering material for folks. For all the darkness and rawness contained in the poem, I did try to end on a lighter more hopeful tone. Also, for those interested the storm referred to was one that hit the Shreveport, LA area on November 15, 1987. It spawned several tornadoes, including the F3 that essentially went right over our heads.
Feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome. I also welcome people to share in the comments what they remember this month.
November
November is an uncertain month
amber light and sunshine promises
blown into sudden and terrible storms
Mom would say it was temperamental
with that tone that always added
"just like you"
the child who just couldn't wait to be born
"such a good baby you were, so quiet"
and the look would say
"why can't you be quiet now?"
November is a strange month
just far enough into the school year
to make me older than my classmates
as if I needed anything else to set me apart
this strange kid who didn't talk quite right
who'd crossed the desert in a blue Vega
no air conditioning and too much stuff
come to rest in bayou country
then we'd move again
and I'd still be a stranger in a strange land
November is for remembering
worn shaky hands holding poppies
their stories of sacrifice--reminders
of the cost of peace
the candles lit
memory and wishes
blown across the world
debris of life's storm
November is when my world began
and when it was all torn down again
seven years old, days from being eight
a blustery day turned into a blustery night
and I learned to fear the wind
to watch for that strange cast of the sky
to listen to the pattern of the rain
Jeopardy was on when the warnings flashed
I lay stretched across the shag-blue carpet
hamburgers taunted my nose
the rain beat against the trailer
lighting flashed thick and bright
the thunder shook my bones
I paid no mind
I had seen storms before
when the power went out my nerves frayed
just a bit more, and I stood at the back door watching
though it was too dark to see
I don't remember if neighbors brought the warning
or if we had turned on a radio
I knew only that a funnel had been spotted
I knew only that it was headed our way
we went outside to hide
which seems strange, but
trailers are fragile and bayous don't have cellars
under the carport was a barbeque, post cemented deep
and the children were told to lie down and grab hold
the adults put themselves on the top of the pile
holding us firmly in place
the sideways rain pelted against our skin
the wind tugged and pulled
I wanted nothing but to bury my face in my dogs' fur
to know that we would all be alright
but the dogs were hiding somewhere else
and no one was certain we would be alright
the noise was terrible and indescribable
it was felt more than heard
the sky roared and spat
debris flying everywhere
a groan, a creak, and the tin of the carport peeled off
and then the noise moved off
we waited, cold to our bones and I
couldn't tell my tears from the rain
we were the lucky ones
spared by the storm
but so much around us was gone
the world as I knew it ended not with fire,
not with ice, but with wind
November is for thanks
giving gratitude for a good harvest
for the blessings in our lives
but expectations can run high
disappointments can run deep
bitterness and anger could erupt
the unexpected fist through a wall
shouting matches and things thrown
and I would wonder why I wasn't enough
to give thanks for, to love
not understanding that I wasn't the cause
and I would always hope
that next year would be different
eventually it was
November is for celebration
with chosen family and friends, lit
candles and pumpkin pie for breakfast
for sunlight promises more often held
and the knowledge that life grows on
even after the worst of storms
poetree. This is my entry for this week's community themed week about remembrance and memorial. I wanted to share this here as well because it is what I spent a lot of time working on last week. Post does not reflect my current mood. I am very happy and enjoying my birthday! In the northern hemisphere November is a time when the days darken earlier and shadows seem more prevalent. This can make it easier for our personal demons to trouble us. As the holidays approach we often feel our losses more deeply. For many people I know November is a time for remembrance and memorial. Whether it is remembering their dearly departed on All Saints Day/Dios de los Muertos, remembering Veteran's and the cost of war on Armistice/Veteran's Day, or remembering holiday seasons past be they good or bad. For me personally it is a mix of all these things, plus the annual memorial that is my birthday, mixed with the anniversary of a dreadful storm that I witnessed as a child.. Most would not think of birthdays as memorials, but in the sense that it is a day for remembering and contemplating the past I find that birthdays are the ultimate memorial. I felt it fitting that I start our week on remembrance and memorial since today is my birthday.
It is a month that always makes me think of the past and the many uncertain associations that I have with the month. It is also a time for me to reflect on the positive things that have come into my life, and the wonders of friendship and love that I've experienced as I've grown older. I wanted to write a poem that captured this mix of feelings and contemplation. I am going to put the poem under a cut as it may contain some triggering material for folks. For all the darkness and rawness contained in the poem, I did try to end on a lighter more hopeful tone. Also, for those interested the storm referred to was one that hit the Shreveport, LA area on November 15, 1987. It spawned several tornadoes, including the F3 that essentially went right over our heads.
Feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome. I also welcome people to share in the comments what they remember this month.
November
November is an uncertain month
amber light and sunshine promises
blown into sudden and terrible storms
Mom would say it was temperamental
with that tone that always added
"just like you"
the child who just couldn't wait to be born
"such a good baby you were, so quiet"
and the look would say
"why can't you be quiet now?"
November is a strange month
just far enough into the school year
to make me older than my classmates
as if I needed anything else to set me apart
this strange kid who didn't talk quite right
who'd crossed the desert in a blue Vega
no air conditioning and too much stuff
come to rest in bayou country
then we'd move again
and I'd still be a stranger in a strange land
November is for remembering
worn shaky hands holding poppies
their stories of sacrifice--reminders
of the cost of peace
the candles lit
memory and wishes
blown across the world
debris of life's storm
November is when my world began
and when it was all torn down again
seven years old, days from being eight
a blustery day turned into a blustery night
and I learned to fear the wind
to watch for that strange cast of the sky
to listen to the pattern of the rain
Jeopardy was on when the warnings flashed
I lay stretched across the shag-blue carpet
hamburgers taunted my nose
the rain beat against the trailer
lighting flashed thick and bright
the thunder shook my bones
I paid no mind
I had seen storms before
when the power went out my nerves frayed
just a bit more, and I stood at the back door watching
though it was too dark to see
I don't remember if neighbors brought the warning
or if we had turned on a radio
I knew only that a funnel had been spotted
I knew only that it was headed our way
we went outside to hide
which seems strange, but
trailers are fragile and bayous don't have cellars
under the carport was a barbeque, post cemented deep
and the children were told to lie down and grab hold
the adults put themselves on the top of the pile
holding us firmly in place
the sideways rain pelted against our skin
the wind tugged and pulled
I wanted nothing but to bury my face in my dogs' fur
to know that we would all be alright
but the dogs were hiding somewhere else
and no one was certain we would be alright
the noise was terrible and indescribable
it was felt more than heard
the sky roared and spat
debris flying everywhere
a groan, a creak, and the tin of the carport peeled off
and then the noise moved off
we waited, cold to our bones and I
couldn't tell my tears from the rain
we were the lucky ones
spared by the storm
but so much around us was gone
the world as I knew it ended not with fire,
not with ice, but with wind
November is for thanks
giving gratitude for a good harvest
for the blessings in our lives
but expectations can run high
disappointments can run deep
bitterness and anger could erupt
the unexpected fist through a wall
shouting matches and things thrown
and I would wonder why I wasn't enough
to give thanks for, to love
not understanding that I wasn't the cause
and I would always hope
that next year would be different
eventually it was
November is for celebration
with chosen family and friends, lit
candles and pumpkin pie for breakfast
for sunlight promises more often held
and the knowledge that life grows on
even after the worst of storms
