Friday, June 27, 2014

Lists as Poetry

As I was reading back over some of my posts I've realized a few things.
1) What I find funny one moment isn't so hilarious the next.
2)  No wonder people give me funny looks when I open my mouth.
3)  My kids have given me LOTS to write about.
I started making a list of things I'd never thought I would say.  Having kids has made me say plenty of things to make that list.  Recently I've become part of the North Star of Texas Writing Project and have been required to do some writing that could be shared. The list of "Things I Never Thought I'd Say" was something I wanted to write about, but I just wasn't sure how.  Then I remembered the wonderful genre of poetry; words just put together to the author's liking in whatever way he/she chooses.  And it can't be judged "wrong", it's poetry after all! Well here's my list, now a poem, sadly I'd forgotten about the dead armadillo on the jeep when I was writing, but enjoy.


I would say I was a great parent.
Perfect in fact.  
Knowing what each child needed.
A stern word for one, a hug for another.
That one over there?
A spanking would solve all those problems.

And then I had kids.
I was aware a new chapter
was about to ensue.
But what never crossed my mind,
Are all the things
I now find myself saying.

About siblings:
Don’t drown your brother.
Don’t make me stop this car
And make you two walk home again.
Get your toe out of your brother’s mouth.
Those arrows are to be shot at the target,
And your sister is not the target!

About animals
Don’t bite the dog.
Take the chicken out of the house.
Get that snake out of my room.
Goats do not come inside.
Didn’t I tell you already?
That chicken does not belong in here!

Personal safety:
Don’t lick that pole/shoe/shelf.
We don’t play on the roof.
Yes, you can jump off the trampoline into the pool.
Use that machete properly.
No, you can’t mow, I want to.
We don’t jump out of a moving trailer,  
I don’t care what your daddy does.

While I am no longer a perfect parent,
My house is perfectly chaotic,
My kids are perfectly rotten,

And I love my imperfect life.