Hello everyone, I wanted to share with you one of the poems in my book Essentials - giving birth to words, rhymes and a story or two only because I was so inspired by this film The Book Thief. If you haven't seen it yet, make the effort to find it somehow and encounter an education in how words can lift up the spirit at its lowest. I was ambivalent about watching this particular film but had read great reviews. We have all seen numerous films on the Nazi's and the egregious behavior they displayed during WWII. The most horrendous time in the history of our existence in my opinion, the main reason I had been skirting around watching it, not sure if I wanted to have those images put in my sensitive heart and mind once again. A lovely lady, Beth Ventre, told me it was definitely a film to see, really special, so I found it on Solar.com and was in for such a treat I had never expected. It spoke to me like no film has in a long time. And of course it helped to have two of my fave actors, Emily Watson and Geoffrey Rush at the helm. All the young child actors were also exemplary. To give you an idea what it's about here is a quote, or actually a short synopsis from the web, "based on the beloved international bestselling book, The Book Thief tells the story of Liesel, an extraordinary and courageous young girl sent to live with a foster family in World War II Germany. She learns to read with encouragement from her new family and Max, a Jewish refugee who they are hiding under the stairs. For Liesel and Max, the power of words and imagination become the only escape from the tumultuous events happening around them. This film is a life-affirming story of survival and of the resilience of the human spirit. I highly recommend this film.
I don't remember the exact year, 2006 or 2007 maybe, could have been sooner, but I moved back to Los Angeles from Austin, Texas and sent my daughter to live with her father in Seattle. I was alone, had no job or money but I made my daily trek to an Al-Anon meeting for spiritual sustenance and community. I met lovely people and someone gave me a bike for I had lost my car not being able to afford the payments. (Something I went thru again recently.) I was able to ride my bike to the library in Santa Monica almost everyday. What you will read below is one of the poems or stories that came out of that time of bare bones existence. I'm still very much in love with words and the power they possess. I hope I can only evolve into the writer I'm striving to become. Someone who can express what this little girl in The Book Thief discovered of herself with the help of the young Jewish man they helped during the war. Thank you God for this amazing gift so many writers have at their fingertips. I might read the book someday also.
I was going through all these photos, literally hundreds, I've finally decided to scan to my computer so not to have to schlep them around anymore. I came across this fabric made card my older daughter had given me in 1985 and in it was a quote she decided to share with me in the card which just now truly has relevance for me. "The role of the writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say." - Anais Nin My daughter who is the ultimate artist in so many mediums has been such an inspiration to me and continues today and hopefully for many years to come. Writers are artists too, painting pictures with words. I hope you enjoy my poem and if you want to read more of my writing you can find my book on Amazon.com with many more poems and short stories. God bless!!
Year of the Locusts
The year it all vanished I felt
like I died
My daughter left, then they took
the house,
The car, computer, TV and stereo
All removed when the locusts came
Imagining how the farmers felt
Having everything disappear in a
twinkling
Fruits of one’s labor and love
All they had as identity and
security
Then stealthily replaced with a magic discovery
Of the prosaic library and the blessed word
Nothing to do but read and write
It flowed forth in a stream, no,
a torrent
Claiming my role as a channel for
words
When the locusts came it showed
me
The joy that is poetry and verse
Feeling the hand being guided to create
Putting pen to paper, birthing a
tangible thought
I kept company with the literary
ghosts I admire
In the solitude required, I
hunkered down
Then out of nothing came
something
I've been told the pen is mightier than
the sword
Will I topple my foes, praise and
blame?
Of course, off to battle to
conquer the world.
With my pen, with my (s)words…
Excellent!!
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