Welcome to another Poetry Friday Poetry Peeps Adventure!
Poetry Peeps! You’re invited to our challenge for the month of October! Here’s the scoop: We’re building! Our prompt comes from p. 139 of The Practice of Poetry: Writing Exercises from Poets Who Teach, edited by Robin Behn and Chase Twichell, and we’re writing a poem in which we literally build and/or take apart something – large or small. Our focus will be on constructing or deconstructing, taking into account technical terms, instructions, and perhaps even material sources. A great mentor poem would be something like this, or this. Are you in? Good! You have a month to craft your creation and share it on October 25th in a post and/or on social media with the tag #PoetryPals.
It’s literally the eleventh hour as I’m posting this poem, and I’m laughing at myself, because somehow, as sometimes happens, at the last minute, I so disliked what I’d already written and prepared that I had to start over – at about an hour before dinner and two hours before rehearsal tonight. Tomorrow I’ll be glad I did this, though – tomorrow is my husband’s birthday, and I came up with this poem because I was thinking of him.
From Process…
Originally this Wallace Stevens poetry prompt was meant to be all seven of the Seven Sisters poetry crew getting together to choose ONE object that we looked at seven different ways, but that quickly became a non-starter, as with the onset of the school year, many of us have ramped up school visits, teaching duties, and other stuff. We’ve been having trouble being all in the same place at the same time, so we never did choose one object – but we decided to at least choose something symbolic. We don’t want to choose something meaningless,” A Person said at one point, “like a t-shirt, or a sock.” We then immediately did a 180 on that and discussed how nothing is meaningless in the hands of a good poet (“A sock is a pocket for your toes!” A sock, friends, is never meaningless). Well, that must have percolated in my brain for the following week, because even though I chose “Seven Ways of Looking at a Republic” and later tried to say Something Meaningful about democracy, baseball, voting… and then, eggs, vaccination, and sleep, what finally stuck? “Seven Ways of Looking at an Old Shoe.”
…To Poetry
…and, just to get it out of my system, I’m going to go ahead and BLAME SARA for this, because she’s the one who said something about socks, and obviously, what goes with socks? Shoes. Actually, it’s not really on Sara. I read the idiom about something being as “comfortable as an old shoe” somewhere this week and it stuck, oddly. This simile was once put “as easy as an old shoe,” and was first recorded in J. T. Brockett’s North Country Glossary (1825), so it’s stuck around for a while in the English language. So, it can’t be meaningless if it’s old, right? And, because lately I still find myself astounded that Himself and I have been married since we were twenty and twenty-one (THIRTY YEARS), the idea of being as “comfortable as an old shoe” also resonates – still kind of weird, but whatever, here we are.
Seven Ways of Looking at An Old Shoe.
I.
easy like thirty years of
Sunday strolls, this old shoe.
II.
is it
always congenial?
lost under
beds, wedged
into closets.
we trip
on the laces.
not always
a comfort:
an old shoe
will rub a
blister: but
a stubbed toe
hurts much less
with one.
III.
What is this title, ‘old?’
How can you be so cold
As to christen classic chic
With that label dull, and meek?
“Vintage,” “timeless,” “tried-and-true”
ALL sound better than “old shoe.”
IV.
From Monday two-step
to Friday buff-and-polish
love that old soft shoe
V.
if the old shoe fits
wear it
VI
a curving structure
bones, ligaments, and tendons
archly supported:
all that is needful, designed.
mama doesn’t want new shoes
VII
there was an old woman who loved her old shoe
it fit her wide foot in the toe box, too.
As perfect when worn out to paint the town red,
As it was worn staying in with a book instead.
Proving, once again, that a poem can be ABOUT ANYTHING. Stay tuned – I’m sure I’ll come up with something on socks next. ☺
Thank-you to Ms. Irene for rounding us up today. She’s also sharing about The Mistakes That Make Us, so do be sure to pop over there for more poetry magic. Meanwhile, more non-shoe ways of looking can be found with more poetry peeps. Liz’s poem is here. Sara’s poem is here. Tricia’s poem is here. Laura’s poem is here. Kelly’s poem is here. Michelle K’s poem and show news is here, Denise K’s precious poem celebrating Phoebe is here. Karen E’s looking at interruptions – welcome Karen!!! Buffy Silverman’s poem is here – welcome to the party, Buffy! And welcome to first-timer Tracy Kiff-Judson, whose poem is here. Linda M. is looking hilariously at middle age, and Linda B’s poem is here. Carol has chosen six ways to look at autumn, and Margaret is looking ten ways at a grandchild. THANK YOU, SO MUCH everyone for playing, and for Linda B. for inviting others. More poets = more fun. More ways of looking may be peered at throughout the day, and I’ll post the poems as I find them – stay tuned for the roundup!
I hope you take a look at your world this weekend and find the myriad tiny ways that – even in the midst of stress and strife – there is still growth, there is still life, there is still beauty, and peace. Hold tight to what is good. Happy Friday.
First of all, I LOVE your poem. Love all the lines, but this line especially: “all that is needful, designed.”
Second of all, NO, you have not been married for THIRTY YEARS because aren’t you only 35 years old? I could’ve sworn….
Third of all, if Pablo Neruda can write “An Ode to My Socks” then you can write about these beloved shoes, because
“beauty is twice
beauty
and what is good is doubly
good
when it is a matter of two socks
made of wool
in winter.”
Or when it is a matter of
“a curving structure
bones, ligaments, and tendons
archly supported:
all that is needful, designed.”
This mama doesn’t want new shoes either. 🙂
Tanita, I love how you started your poem. and ended it. The background photo is just right as a companion. Your poem flows beautifully. I enjoyed the rhymes where you placed them.
I’m sorry that I am late in commenting. I had the little grandgirls here for the weekend.
Thanks also for adding my name to the #PoetryPals.
@cvarsalona: I hope your grandgirls were a delight. Thanks for coming by!
I love every one of these Canva pieces and all the photos that accompany them. I think the third stanza is my favorite.
@MissRumphius: I almost wish I’d been a bit more deliberate and followed the mentor text very closely, but it’s a ‘big’ poem to me, and my thirty year shoe still feels… small. The blackbird probably felt small to Wallace Stevens, but it has risen to near mythical significance. I did what I could to add gravitas with the images, and thanks for the kind words – I am happier than I expected with what turned out.
Wonderful poem, Tanita. I especially love
From Monday two-step
to Friday buff-and-polish
love that old soft shoe
I love this! Oh, my goodness…the process the discussion of meaningful/less and the last minute to school activities ramping up. You are singing my SONG! Great take on the prompt and yes, this old woman is down to favoring two pair of shoes that fit in the toe box too. LOL. Never did I ever think that my toes would need to be so taken care of. Shoes are definitely meaningFUL! Well done, Tanita!
@Linda M.: With my little brick-shaped feet, I never discount the comfort of a good toe box! Here’s to singing the poetry song another month. ☺
@Linda M.: With my little brick-shaped feet, I never discount the comfort of a good toe box! Thanks for the kind words, and here’s to singing the poetry song together. ☺
How you managed to put this all together so quickly makes me realize you’re as comfortable at word wizardry, as an old shoe, Tanita. Sorry, I had to take this further! I love every bit, and the loving connection to your and your husband’s thirty years. Happy Anniversary! And, I adore that part about the stubbed toe! Thanks for the shout out, too!
@Linda B.: I’m flattered! Thanks for the kind words – to a fellow word wizard!
What an “archly supported” poem you created with a bit of added spice ending, it fits like a comfy old … Thanks Tanita, and happy celebration wishes for you and your husband!
@Michelle K.: Aww, thanks!
Ha ha ha — your intro made me laugh… sympathetically.
But the poem itself is really kind of perfection, and so Tanita-ish.
(Archly!!!) I just love it as a relationship journey and exploration. Yes…
@Liz Garton Scanlon: Hah! Thank you. I like the idea of having Tanita-ish poems.
Tanita, so fun! I’ll look forward to the sock poem in the future. I love the rhyming stanzas. I agree that these terms sound better than “old shoe”.
“Vintage,” “timeless,” “tried-and-true”
ALL sound better than “old shoe.”
I enjoyed reading The Science of Friendship. Such sweet science, and I loved the characters who took their personal growth seriously. It was fun reading an author I know. 🙂
@Denise K: Oh, I’m so glad you enjoyed TSoF! It was a challenge to write, but I’m happy with it, which is a relief to say.
I’m definitely here for the comfort of the old shoe relationship, but goodness – we do seem to esteem it lightly!
Tanita, you didn’t rhyme (except for VII)!? Stop the presses. :>D Seriously, I love what you did, especially #6. I hope it was a birthday present for Himself. There’s so much deep affection and appreciation in this.
@laurasalas: Yes, well. I’m TRYING here, Laura!!! 😛
I’ve …actually not given people poems before. That’s a little unnerving, but may as well tuck it into the wrapping paper this evening! Thanks for the idea.
Well, you did it! Old shoe has enough resonance to it to work…and knowing the background of you sweethearts makes it even better. I love that last stanza the most….part of the joy of being married a long time is that you make enough wiggle room for each other that you can be comfortable– no matter if you’re staying in or going out. Keep on dancing. 🙂
@SaraLHolmes: Thank you! Honestly with my weird little brick feet, the idea of an old shoe being the one you actually wear and keep is apt here. Here’s to comfortably making space for each other.