Combing Through Song Titles
Mar, 15 2011 | circle of loveliness | admin | One comment
PROMPT: Song titles are succinct word gems and can give such wonderful starting points for poems and writings… During the Creative Writing Workshop we combed through CDs (of artists such as Tom Waits, Pink Martini, Feist to name a few) for inspiring, intriguing and captivating song titles… everyone chose one and we wrote from there. Here is one of the pieces from that evening!
Home I’ll Never Be (after Tom Waits)By: Vanessa Ramsey Home Sitting at the dark brown antique dining table In my family’s kitchen My chair Facing the white-washed walls with a purposeful clock And a calendar As if the date and time were of the utmost importance My father to the right and my brother to the left Facing each other as if they were always onto a secret that I didn’t yet know The regal chair The papa bear’s chair Glued to the floor with weights and chains, pulling it down
Dinner A home-cooked meal Perhaps stir-fry or meat and potatoes A stick-to-the-ribs occasion of feasts Tick tock The white linoleum place mats with lilac trees and happy birds How my soul longed to sit and swing among the branches Heavy yellow trimmed plates with a ’70’s design Milk to do the body good My meek reflection in the antique matching china cabinet No china Only trophy beer steins won from distant rugby matches And a nutcracker shaped like a nut How original Unpaid bills Letters Too matter of fact, My 16-year old self could not possibly try to untangle Tick, tick, tock The corner dishwasher that remained tucked away Until yellow-trimmed plates needed a washing Lift up the weights Unravel the chains Strip the glue Let the clunky washer out of its prison Squealing, wheeling echoes across the unmatched patterned floor, I could not escape What day of the month is it anyways? Squinting to make out the calendar dates, Realizing that if she was still here, She would have turned the pages May was 2 months ago My family kitchen The place where I live And the feeling of homesickness So deep, it’s bottomless No home to go home to Home, I’ll never be
Evelyn
Incredible writing! I can see this kitchen and all that’s in it. So sad.