Wednesday, October 14, 2020

 Here is our Recovery Writers prompt for October 18.  We will meet at 1:30 pm. 

 Zoom info is 996 653 317 password 119868


By articulating what I wanted from my parents when I was young, I can see the feelings of loneliness and fear that underlie emotional abandonment. Here is a poem where the child calls on the parents for what the child needs: 

 

Can Anybody Hear Me? 

 

 Father, I am calling. 

Father, I am hungry.

 Give me peanuts,

clustered tight in papery shells,

or oysters, wrested with your knife

from their tight-lipped home, 

how they hold themselves 

together, resist opening

They are quivering,

helpless to resist. 

 

Mother, I am calling. 

Give me oatmeal,

chocolate pudding.

Show me where to look

beneath the bushes for berries,

the artichokes unfolding

soft and sweet,

their center worth the wait. 

Connection to Recovery:  This is my inner child asking for foods that I associate with childhood.  The message is mixed.  My peanuts remind me of the nuts at bars where my father drank. The oysters remind me of his dramatics in wresting open the shells and telling us kids they were still alive when they hit his stomach! Notice I end with an image of artichokes, bitter and inedible on the outside, but sweet within. This image reminds me of the nature of the innocent child.  I became tough on the outside to withstand my feelings of abandonment and shame, but I was soft and sweet within.  Try for some imagery that will set up conflict in your work.  This is where feelings will resonate in your work.


Prompt:

1.Write a poem in which you ask your parents for food. Imagine foods that you associate with each of them, foods that perhaps you loved or had mixed feelings about, foods that you associate either with your longings or with their nature.

2.Try to include in your request for food the idea that they were not listening to you and did not hear you. 

3. If it works better for you to ask for something other than food, feel free.  The idea is to address the parent from childhood with a request for something that would have made you feel loved and special. 




2 comments:

  1. Hi Christine,
    I'm sorry I missed the last Recovery Writer's workshop! But I tried my hand on the prompt this morning. Here it is:

    Dear Dad,
    Give me a picture of yourself,
    handsome, dressed in a suit and polished shoes,
    I’ll put it in a locket or swallow it whole,
    like a communion wafer.
    But don’t give me your fish soup,
    with the bones floating on top.
    You thought you could cook, but we knew better.

    Dear Mom,
    Give me your hairbrush with the gray curls
    still caught in its bristles.
    Thirty years later, I pick them out
    like tiny spiral staircases to where you are.
    But don’t give me the head cheese sandwiches
    I threw in the trash at school,
    or the macaroons I vomited up before
    I knew what food trauma was.

    Give me food-love, give me crunch,
    show me ways to get enough,
    the split plum, the pomegranate ruby,
    the roadside dandelions,
    turning clear,
    the bitter wine we drank.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Cathy, this is a wonderful poem. It creates a strong picture and emotion. Thank you for sharing.

    ReplyDelete