Author: Lisa Marie

Marilyn Monroe as a Housewife

A congress of confetti has decreed

every wind must blow up.

The ground breathes.

I look like Marilyn Monroe as a housewife,

standing in my yard with my dress billowing around me.

My husband sees me with his eyes shut.

Hands open.

The hours I have given him clump between his fingers like cat litter

I will wash them with aloe.

I will dry them in silence.

Our daughter has been sequestered with the sequins

and she has sewn a shining dress.

See her straddle the breeze.

She learns from me.

In The Hospital Since Sunday

I have been in the hospital since Sunday. We were in Chapel Hill eating lunch on our way back from Tennessee when I was hit by acute abdominal pain in my lower right stomach.

Then we went to the Mapleview Creamery and I felt so bad I couldn’t eat my ice cream.  We left a few minutes later, and I spent the car ride East doubled over and running a fever. By the time we were to Elizabeth City, I decided to go to the ER before going home.

They thought I had appendicitis and did a CT scan. Instead the doctor found I had Diverticulitis  (infection of a pocket in the intestine) and a small hole in my intestine. They admitted me and I have been here since.

It seemed like I was getting better on Wednesday, so they pulled me off IV  antibiotics and IV fluids, gave me oral antibiotics , and gave me permission to drink milkshakes and other non clear liquids.

I drank a shake that Craig bought for me and about 15 minutes later I was in absolute agony. It got so bad they had to give me a double dose of painkiller. I was yelling and crying. It hurt worse than when I had gallstones. So much pain. Then on top of that I started getting really thirsty and I was drinking so many fluids but I was still parched and sick. Apparently all the flu and I’m drinking is going to the inflammation in my stomach so now they have put me back on IV antibiotics and IV fluids and I’m definitely not going home this weekend. I’m sad about this because my wedding anniversary is on Sunday. I really want to go out with Craig. And I miss the baby. My parents have been taking good care of her and I really appreciate it but I miss having her around. Hanging around a hospital is really difficult for a three-year-old though, so I don’t want her to have to do that.

The Art of Quiet

The art of Quiet is just as wonderful as fire,

the eyes of the artist open in the morning blast.

See proof of the paint box,

an uncertainty about normal color walking in a white place,

The place where luck dies.

What conflicts do publishers have with unauthorized ideas?

The artist is a charter school of chartreuse who longs to stand still.

Imagine a conference inspired by the Sistine chapel?

A child’s memory that moved Da Vinci’s David?

Anorexia 2

Food is excellent,

almost smells necessary.

So does everything that possesses you

 

If only people could turn off the clock and wean themselves from his

nefarious purposes…

 

You feel five feet wide and are at least 1.

On the counter,

chocolate in all his attractions. Do not listen to him.

Eat your salad.

This is hate.

Your teeth flicker on and off.

Your bones shrink in disgrace.

Mother and Poet

I want my life to be an example of creativity and beauty to my daughter. Being a mother has completed me in some inexplicable way. It is as though I was born her mother, and Angelica’s birth was just a stage in my life cycle. When she was born it was as if I was a butterfly emerging winged from a snow white cocoon.

Because she completes me, and she widens my world, she has deepened my poetry. Motherhood has also been good for my productivity. It gives me less time to write. That may seem counterintuitive, but it is true. By allowing me less time to write, motherhood makes me focus when I do have time to write. Sometimes having all the time in the world just makes one fritter away time. When you become a mother, you appreciate time. That said, I still need my husband’s support for my writing. He lets me have a wonderful babysitter twice a week and gives me time to myself in the evening to read and write. Reading is the life blood of writing. A mother without any support and many children may find creating great literature next to impossible. Woolf was right when she said a woman needs money and a room of her own to write. But given critical aid, motherhood can enhance poetry.

Motherhood:

-Reinvigorates me and gets my creative juices flowing

-Enriches my life and gives me more to write about.

-Makes me make the most of my time. I am super productive because I know how limited my time is.

Before I met my husband I intended to go to an MFA program before starting a family. I thought two to three years with nothing to worry about but writing would be ideal. Now that life has taken me down a different path, I see that for me nothing is further from the truth. Motherhood and the awesome responsibility it entails gives me a purpose, something everyone who wants to write should have. If your whole existence is writing, you may find you have nothing to write about. See the proliferation of novels and short fiction about writers/MFA students by writers/ MFA students.

This is not to denigrate MFA programs, which can be wonderful. I am simply saying that motherhood has in many ways been a rigorous training ground for my poetry, and that the breadth of experience it provides me is nutritional for my fertile mind.

How Does God Feel

” When I met my husband, I liked him. As I spent time with him, I got to know him more and more. We talked and laughed and even cried together and I realized my like had turned into love, and I couldn’t get enough of him. When God surveys our love for Him I wonder what He sees. Does He find us being in “like” with Him only? Is He sorrowful for what He knows our relationship could be but isn’t because of the absence of time together? Is He sad when we talk and laugh and cry only with others? Does he weep when we let the fire of our love grow cold?” -Lynda Hunter Bjorklund

Reading this made a light bulb go off in my head. Isn’t it amazing that we have a God who cares? This is a reciprocal relationship. It isn’t just that we as human beings are concerned with drawing close to God and being loved by God, but God wants to draw close to us and He wants us to love Him. He loves us. The almighty creator of the universe cares about us and how we feel about Him. He wants to be in communion with us.

Do I give God enough love and attention? Do I laugh and cry with God? I do not. I pray to thank Him for my many blessings. I pray to Him to help people in need. But when is the last time I poured my heart out to God? Am I close to God?

If I want to be closer to him I need to talk to Him more, and listen to Him more.