#10 - Postpartum

Weathered

Stretched to limits

Ungodly and profound

Skin deflated, silver road map

Sagging

Navel

Once an innie,

Then became an outie

Never restored former glory

Taunting.

Skin clear,

Eyes less tired,

Movement easy, restored

Sleep comes quick now, it refreshes,

Pain-free

Hair loss

Alarmed at first,

Falls out in thick handfuls,

Clogs the shower drain and the brush,

Thinning

Nursing,

Now established,

Efficient, quick, wiggly,

She loses interest, the world calls

To her

Trophy,

Of sorts, scars tell

Stories of a decade.

Bringing forth life, seeing it grow, 

Family

- Laura Freeman -
April 10, 2013

#9 - To Play the Classics

this one's dedicated to my little brother over at http://www.deathofmonopoly.com/

I didn't like the challenge posted today at NaPoWriMo, so I googled poetry forms to come up with my own challenge.  Have to say, I had fun writing this.  It's a "Pantoum".  The format for the modern day Pantoum is that it is a poem consisting of four line stanzas in which the 2^nd and 4^th line of each stanza serve as the first and third lines of the next stanzas. The last line is often the same as the first.

(For another "Modern Pantoum", check out my friend's NaPoWriMo offering at http://aprilraines.digitalnovelists.com/poetry/napowrimo2013/poem3   )

#9 - To Play the Classics

An honourable opponent,

She chose the thimble, I the shoe
She lived for the moment.
She rolled the dice, her roll was true,

She chose the thimble, I the shoe,

Thimble moving in a blur,
She rolled the dice, her roll was true,
The dice, they favoured her,

Thimble moving in a blur,

Properties collected,
The dice, they favoured her,
It was as I suspected.

Properties collected,

She played the banker, too
It was just as I suspected,
As her hotels and houses grew,

She played the banker, too,

I watched from my spot in jail,
As her hotels and houses grew,
Roll doubles; epic fail.

I watched from my spot in jail,

Gleeful, she grabbed Park Place,
Roll doubles; epic fail,
Smug grin upon her face.

Gleeful, she grabbed Park Place,

My heart sinking lower every roll,
Smug grin upon her face,
Her stack of money flush and whole,

My heart sinking lower every roll,

I slowly approached the blue,
Her stack of money flush and whole,
What was one to do?

I slowly approached the blue,

So close was I to losing,
What was one to do?
A final act of poorest choosing.

So close was I to losing,

I stood and tipped the table,
A final act of poorest choosing,
The legs must have been unstable.

I stood and tipped the table,

She knew what it really meant,
The legs must have been unstable,
For, I'm an honourable opponent,

- Laura Freeman -
April 9, 2013

#8 - No Regrets

So, this morning, uninspired as of yet, I decided to give the NaPoWriMo daily prompt a try.  The prompt, being the eight day of April, is to write a poem in Ottava Rima, an eight line stanza that follows the ABABABCC rhyme scheme and is written in Iambic Pentameter (10 syllables per line with the accents stressed as such: da dum, da dum, da dum, da dum, da dum)

So with a form in mind, I still needed a topic.  I asked Kirstin.  She said, "Why don't you write a poem about us?"  Alrighty, what better topic could there be?  

I got the math right, the eight lines and the number of syllables, but the deliberate use of accent is definitely a stretch, so I don't think that the poem reads as well as it would if I had the luxury to vary the lines.

Regardless, it was fun to do.  Here's today's poem:

My four, my children are my legacy,

The worn jewel in my crown, that shines bright,

A mark of that which is the best of me,

No regrets have I; I have done this right,

I live for them, and they exist for me,

Dreams unachieved, my four children still might,

Accomplish all that they set out to do,

Pursue their talents, true happiness, too.

Alex, our first, nine before summer's close,

The bud of an artist runs in his veins,

Quick with numbers and a new love of prose,

Sensitive, carefully we hold the reins.

Connor, six now, his social circle grows,

Daring, he trusts, collects bruises and stains,

Creative, he sketches with clarity,

Gentleness beneath the fire that is he.

Kirstin, big sister, feminine, and sweet,

At four, a dancer, a singer, friendly,

Verbally blessed, Affectionate, and neat.

Baby Brooklynn, completes our family,

Bright and alert, gummy grins are our treat,

Skills undiscovered, my fourth prodigy.

To watch my heart beat on in another,

No regrets have I to be their mother.

- Laura Freeman -

April 8, 2013

# 7 - The Indigestible Truth

Okay, this poem deserves a little preface.  Or a brag.  Whatever you want to call it is fine with me.  Cory and I have been following the Weight Watchers Points Plus program since January 3rd. My Mom's been doing it longer. We've all been very successful on it and we've all recently met our first goal, "Lose10% of your body weight." (Ironically, Cory's and my combined ten percents is 100% of Alex!)  I am, in fact, now at my pre-pregnancy weight for ALL four of my pregnancies!  I'm pretty pleased with that.  I haven't been this size since 2003.  And 2003 was the year I lost 30 pounds of post-wedding fat in order to get pregnant, so I wasn't actually this size for very long back then.  And Cory is officially at his pre-pregnancies weight, too.  So I guess you could say we're both now starting to chip away at the weight we gained between when we got together and began"cooking" for ourselves and when we became a family of three.  A lot of take-out in our early years of marriage, if I recall correctly... 

So when it was suggested that we go to the J&S Restaurant for dinner last night (I won't say which one of us suggested it), knowing that there is absolutely nothing on that menu that we can easily calculate the points on, we decided we deserved it.  And we do.  So we went and we had a wonderful time with the kids and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.  Which was the inspiration for this morning's poem.

Three short months of working hard,

And the mind wants what it wants,

A reward for twenty lost pounds,

Dinner at the local restaurant.

Wholesome out the window,

We called it our cheat meal.

Laughter, games, desert,

A lovely family deal.

With the spirit of a teenager,

A cheeseburger, fries, and pie,

Now the body of an older woman,

Utters its punishing war cry.

In the wee hours of the morning,

My stomach rebelling from the score,

I come to the sobering conclusion,

I can't eat like that anymore.

- Laura Freeman -

April 7, 2013

#6 It's grocery day!

Two of them vote pizza,

One wants mac and cheese,

One suggests spaghetti,

How `bout Fruit Loops, please?

Candy, cake, and cookies

The fourth just smiles at me.

Two suggest waffles,

Grilled cheese shouts the third,

One suggests PB and J,

Fruit Loops, again, I think I heard.

Three agree on crackers,

The fourth one doesn't say a word.

Pizza is now unanimous,

Rice Krispies would be fine,

Please can we have ice cream

Chocolate milk is so divine.

Pasta, bagels, tacos,

The fourth one starts to whine.

I envisioned broccoli,

Maybe chicken, rice or fish,

So much for group consensus,

On the weekly grocery list.

Next week I`ll plan it myself,

The family nutritionist.


- Laura Freeman -
April 6, 2013

#5 - Mother Nature

Mother Nature is a cruel mistress,
Who taunts then takes away,
At nightfall, dusts the world in white,
The spring promise of today.
Winter throws us one last backwards glance,
As we watch him finally go,
And leaves us in his awful wake,
A Spring of ice and snow.


- Laura Freeman -
April 5, 2013

#4 - Bright Eyed

Big brown eyes that light,
Sweet excitement from within,
Wiggling, kicking legs,
Cooing, drooly grin
Alert and ready to begin.

She wants to play with me,
She tries to tempt me in,
She flaps her arms, calls to me,
Except, it's two a.m.
Caffeine, you'll be my friend,

- Laura Freeman -
April 4, 2013