Thursday, June 29, 2006

Poetry Thursday

This week's Poetry Thursday idea was that there are phrases we say over and over. Each day brings its own comfortable (and not-so-comfortable) routine. This week's (completely and totally optional) idea is to bring poetry into the everyday.

Think about the roles you play in your life and the phrases you use in these roles. Are there certain sentences you find yourself saying over and over? Phrases that tumble out of your mouth frequently? Use one (or more) of these phrases as a starting point for a poem. You could incorporate them into your poem or use them as a prompt to start writing.

a poem from a bad day in a country not my own

i have become an ‘in-process immigrant’
a life different to all i have known before.
i’m an undesirable now
a 'stay-at-home huisvrouw' too.

i have become the 'i'm sorry' mother daughter sister friend
the one who says, ‘i’m sorry, i’ll be home as soon as they allow me to work,
i often add, ‘but they told me something different when i applied for visas …
i expected to be home in january.

sometimes i whine now,
gnashing my teeth on occasion.
and yes, perhaps i am becoming less.
we shall see…

11 comments:

Deb R said...

Interesting poem about what has to be a very difficult time. It leaves me feeling like I hope your feeling of "becoming less" is only fleeting.

jenclair said...

Oh, this does sound like a bad day! Not so much the phrases, but the overall feeling of context for them. Hope things improve and red-tape unravels...

wandering-woman said...

Send the poem to the mayor, says me.

It's lovely, Di, and sad, and frustrating and perfectly captures a "bad day in a country not your own" (I love the title), which is a far different from any other bad day, when you add the unavoidable hollowness of a country not your own.

When you think of how much that really IS to ask of someone, honestly, that they not go see mothers, daughters, sisters, brothers, dads, during the process. Having a much more solo life at home, I never thought about it like this before.

Ah, and I am compelled to add that the one thing they cannot do is make you any less....you or any other immigrant stuck in this insane process...not a chance

awomynda said...

I think any sane person in this situation would have down days. You need to hang out on the St Catherine En Haut bar. I hear they have some kiwi wine stocked there.

jim said...

The title just propels the entire poem, of being displaced further and further. Very powerful.

liz elayne said...

"an in-process immigrant"
what a phrase...
i hope that things become a bit smoother soon...but so glad you have this time to write and write.

woman wandering said...

You know, I came to these comments after a day spent in the company of a lovely American friend, and then dinner with the guys, and there was a certain relief that people understood how it felt ... I do hate to read as 'whiney'.

Hi debr, it was lovely to find you here. I'll go webwandering tomomorrow and catch up on your site. :)

Oh jen, it was written from quite a dark place, it all seems to live under my skin.

The mayor, hmmm he's a socialist, maybe he'd care w-w, he was so lovely about the last problem I had.

I can't go home until I earn money, I can't earn money until they give me a visa for it ... it feels very groundhog day sometimes (lol, see I whine now).

St Catherine En Haut bar sounds like a marvellous place. I know the company to be kind of superb and kiwi wine ... well, what more could a person ask for indeed.

Thanks Jim :)

And Liz, yes ... I'm glad I have the time to write and write and write ... it's just holding the mood. I do enjoy Poetry Thursday though ... thanks for the work you put into it.

chiefbiscuit said...

Your frustartions really come out in the poem - a good medium for frustration! Keep writing at least you are entertaining the world (in an impelling way) as you wait!

woman wandering said...

Thanks chiefbiscuit ... I'll take heart from being entertaining and just give me a nudge when I whine too much :)

Dani said...

Thank you for sharing your poem with us. I often wish I didn't have to work, but not being allowed to work must be a strain on your nerves.

woman wandering said...

Hi dani ... thanks. It's only that working is a grand way to meet people and make friends and of course, it's always kind of nice to have ones own money. :)