Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Untitled (because I’m literally that empty headed)

Words, stories of any kind have just deserted me of late. I want to want to write, but I feel like a dry well. Once good for something, but now just creaky, parched, and kind of an eyesore someone should raze out of its misery.

I sat down to write a blog post, and ended up writing something pretty foreign to me – a poem. I like it, though, and I think it perfectly expresses how I feel.


Maybe I’m not supposed to have the words

Maybe it’s the price I paid

For the baby in my womb

Frustrated, silent and unsaturated

Familiar friends, my verbs and nouns

They skirt the room, eluding me

I wish my urge to chase was stronger

But toys and books and children’s clutter

Calls to me with siren song

Oh housewife of yore

That twit you swore you’d never be

Looks back at you in shock

I can’t relent

I wouldn’t take it back

For all the pictures words would paint

My child’s cry is more


Cindy Swanson said...

Well Ann-Marie, it looks to me like the muse hasn't forsaken you! You still have it, girl. You don't have to choose between your baby and writing. :)

Living Creatively said...

Love it, Ann-Marie.
Girl, you are in a hard stage right now. It's easier for me now, having four kiddos who are all out of the pick-it-off-the-floor-and-eat-it-stage. plus mine play with each other. And have chores, to help.
I remember when Isabelle was that age... I loved her absolutely, beyond words, but at times felt so overwhelmed and lonely. And empty. Those little people require a LOT of you. ;-) And I know you enjoy giving it...
just saying that I understand.

It always puts a smile on my face when you write. :)

Tania said...

Makes absolute sense! I liked the poem! There are times when I ache to be creative and do something like I used to before children but dont have time or I go blank. ha ha But I wouldnt change it for the world. :) I have learned to be creative in other ways that meshed with my home and children. Loved the poem!

Akanksha said...

It makes a sense. I loved the poem shared by you. It was too emotional. I remembered of my sis while going through poem as my sis also love writing poems..
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