The Way I See It

First of all – suburban pig sighting this morning! Standing in the living room, looking out the front door as Luna and I walked past. Yep. Pig in the living room. Enormous pink pigalicious porcine.

Secondly, my poem has has been submitted to the Poetry Madness contest – it should be posted for voting some time today. The youngest (and most competitive) boy has made it clear that he expects me to advance at least one round. Pressure! So, my poem is for him.

Thirdly… judging poetry.

I do not claim to be a poet. I’ve never formally studied poetry. But I do try to read it. At least one a day through Writer’s Almanac. Some I understand, some I don’t. Some I like, some I don’t.

The poems I like best make me feel like I’m using a different lens to see something familiar. Either a zoom in up close or a wide stepped-back distant view. I love to be surprised.

Like seeing a pig looking out his front door.

I think of poems being like music. I know what I like even if I don’t know the why. Or the how it came to be.

It’s some kind of magic that all the music we hear comes from variations of an 8-note scale.

And that all the poetry comes from 26 letters. (Or whatever number digits the particular alphabet being used has to offer.)

I think using a particular structure helps. For my madness poem I turned to A Kick in the Head: An Everyday Guide to Poetic Forms, selected by Paul Janeczko and illustrated by Chris Raschka.

My poem for the contest is a triolet: An eight line poem in which line 1 repeats as lines 4 and 7 and line 2 repeats as line 8. The rhyme scheme is abaaabab.

I hope I wrote it right!

Sarah Wones Tomp

WRITING ON THE SIDEWALK

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Routines and Not

Each morning Luna and I take basically the same walk. We walk the perimeter of our housing development, seeing a lot of sameness. The houses looks like a lot of the same – something our homeowner’s association takes very seriously. The landscaping is a lot of the same. And we see a lot of the same people/dogs/even cars. I don’t mind the same because I’m not walking for the view, mostly I’m deep inside my head during these walks and Luna seems to always find worthwhile sniffs and smells.

But this week I went back to work after a month break and our time for this walk has changed. Back to walking in the dim dark of too early. We see our old familiar people/dogs/cars, but this time I’m missing a couple of changes from our later walks. (BTW, Tam and Sharry each wrote lovely posts on light and dark over at Kissing the Earth.)

A cat and a pig.

During the later morning walks, there was a stretch of our routine walk where a young cat would join us. Luna likes cats, actually, but most won’t let her say hello. So of course I was surprised the first few times that this cat showed such confidence in approaching a dog. It would walk with us for a stretch before stopping and letting us go on. After a week or so,  we started to anticipate and look for our kitty-friend. One day the cat jumped out from a bush and seriously startled us – and then I swear, the way Luna and her friend moved, it was the equivalent of canine/feline laughter. So so funny.

And not far beyond the cat spot lives a pig. A giant, pink, with folds and folds of fat, pig. Not pot-belly. Not piglet. Pig. It’s not as predictable as to when we might get a glimpse, but we were lucky enough to see a few times of rooting in the dirt. I have no idea why someone would have a great big enormous porcine companion in our neighborhood. But, it was still fun to see – and to see Luna cock her head in such confusion.

But now that we’re back to walking so early, we don’t see our kitty friend. I wonder if it looks for us?

When I first started writing, I could – and did – write anywhere. On anything. I’d jot down little bits of things while waiting for my kids. Or standing in line at the grocery store. Early morning, late at night. Nap time.

Then I got more serious and disciplined, especially once I was writing for the VCFA program. I developed a routine.

But then I couldn’t write if I wasn’t in my routine. It had to be in my spot, at the same time of day.

Lately I’ve been scribbling more. At random times, on scraps of paper and in way too many different notebooks. It feels good. Messy, but organic. Kind of like a pig.

Today I’m going into work a little later than most days. I think Luna and I will walk a little later too. Maybe we’ll see our kitty.

Sarah Wones Tomp

WRITING ON THE SIDEWALK

 

 

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