Friday, March 12, 2021

Stumbling into ourselves

I only type every third night. I have no plan. My mind is a blank. I sit down. The typewriter gives me things I don't even know I'm working on. It's a free lunch. A free dinner. I don't know how long it is going to continue, but so far there is nothing easier than writing.
~Charles Bukowski

I scrambled to put together a Poetry Friday post because this week went by so fast and was so full. But here I am! "What do we need words for?" seems like it could be a good poem prompt :-)

What We Need Words For
By Rebecca Seiferle

Each morning, his baby fingers clack
on the electronic keys of the obsolete typewriter
that my father left us when he died,
and what my son hears and loves is the sound
of his own fingers clattering into the world, the zing
of the carriage return, the space bar like a runaway train
clicking through the letters that he is only beginning
to recognize, the hunt and peck
of his own name.

We all stumble into ourselves
like this, fitting our fingers to the shape of letters
while the page gallops out of our reach,

read the rest here


By Tess Gallagher

I go to the mountain side
of the house to cut saplings,
and clear a view to snow
on the mountain. But when I look up,
saw in hand, I see a nest clutched in
the uppermost branches.

read the rest here


My Juicy Little Universe has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Heidi!


jan godown annino said...

Your typewriter Charms tap tap tap smiles on a busy week, dear Tabatha.

And nests in barren trees ~~ providing armor against firewood chopping ~ I would have done the same.

Two poems full of wonder from Wonder Full you.


Ruth said...

You find the best stuff!

Fran Haley said...

Love that phrase, and the poem shared, and Hemingway's typewriter. Reminded me that I have photos of me sitting at a desk in a room where F. Scott Fitzgerald stayed when his wife was in the mental hospital. You're a bottomless trove of treasures, Tabatha!

Linda B said...

My own kids did that with my old college typewriter, pre-computer, & loved those keys making letters! I love that poem, Tabatha, so many beautiful phrases - "but a sea of drift, /and yet" makes one catch one's breath! The other full of kindness that everyone should follow. Thanks & happy weekend!

michelle kogan said...

"What We Need Words For" is so beautiful, alive and full of energy. I always loved "the zing of the carriage return," and the ending words so touching. And what a wonderful find the typewriter pic is! Tess Gallagher's "Choices" sings with tenderness. Thanks for sharing them Tabatha!

laurasalas said...

I love the connection of generations in that first one, Tabatha--thank you!

Heidi said...

"I only type every third night"--That sounds like a perfect antidote to Morning Pages (in case a person should be needing that). Rebecca Seiferle's poem is a wonder, "the legibility of the heart," and reminds me of this one I posted very early in my blogging...

jama said...

Fabulous photo of Hemingway's typewriter -- enjoyed both poems!!

Robyn Hood Black said...

Yes, that photograph - swoon. Both poems are just beautiful - the first, achingly so. And happy for the choice made in the second. Thanks for sharing all!

Kay said...

That first poem brings back memories of me playing on the old manual typewriter we had. I loved the clackety click of the keys and the ding of the carriage return.