The past few weeks now I’ve been hit with random poems at the most ridiculous times. There have been a few mornings while merging into traffic that I’ve had to pick up my long forgotten game of “Don’t Forget This Line.” I hate that game. Honestly. I’m trying to drive my car, merge into traffic and the whole time I’ve got this insanely perfect sentence or thought just slamming itself into me. The game is for me to sing/hum/repeat/shout the line I’m trying to remember.
Lately traffic hasn’t really been moving.
So when the words to poems to present themselves, I’ve been lucky enough to dictate them into my phone (as I stated a few posts back). Which reminds me! I’m still working on that one poem I mentioned on possibly being “the one.” The research on it though is proving to be a bit much for me, but I’m trying this time. I think my old English professor would approve of the effort. Once I have the bones of it laid out, I may post it, but under lock and key.
Tonight, after supper, MD and Bill were headed to the living room to do some math. I said, “Cool! I’m going to jump on my laptop and work on a poem.”
MD sort of smirked and said, “Is it any good?”
“Well… hmmm. I feel pretty good about this one, so I think the potential is there.”
“Mom, what do you do with all those poems? What’s the point?”
He’s right. What’s the point? I have no idea. But that didn’t keep me from reminding him that when I’m long gone, he’ll be cleaning out some tiny little wooden box that I’ve put in another box that is sitting at the bottom of a plastic bin and then… THEN he’ll have all my poems in his hands. Putting my index finger to my temple I said, “Think about that.“
“What would I do with them?” he asked.
“PUBLISH THEM! Then take the royalties from my genius and go on a freaking lavish vacation!”
We both laughed.
Although I’m secretly hoping he does get that lavish vacation. Maybe, eventually before my last breath, I’ll be able to legitimately publish a little book of poems.