My poetry pals and I try to plan our prompts at the beginning of the year so when the end of each month rolls around, the inspiration is just sitting there waiting for us. Sometimes it’s a surprise — as if a rascally little muse-elf slipped into our Google doc in the dead of night just to mess with us. But in a good way. Not the way 2020 is messing with us. You know what I mean.
Anyway, that’s how it was for me when I looked at this month’s assignment:
Ponderous, or based on an image of a hippo; written in any form.
Um, what????
But ok, rascally little muse-elf. Here goes….
Stones in the River
Liz Garton Scanlon
When she was seven
and everyone had
make-believe friends
and make believe families
and make believe long hair,
my sister had hippos,
two make-believe hippos,
which is something like
make-believing elephants
right into the middle of the room
but less trunk- and tail-y,
less obvious, more
misunderstood.
The hippos (my sister’s)
were named Sugar
and Flour, ingredients
for the sweetness
you try to conjure up
when you’re seven
and don’t really understand
what’s going on around you,
when you are like a stone
in the river yourself,
not sure if the water
is making room for you
or trying to push you around.
Sometimes I wonder
if Sugar and Flour
were as territorial
as their earthly dopplegangers,
if they carved out a spot
in my sister’s heart,
if they float there still,
gray and graceful,
until their ponderous hunger
takes over and out they come
into the waiting night,
chuffing, roaring, wanting
what all of us want.
Go read the others now:
Tanita’s
Laura’s
Sara’s
Tricia’s
And Jone is hosting Poetry Friday this week!
***AND, BY THE WAY, if any of you want to join us in our efforts next month, we’ll be writing a naani poem, and theme is foresight or autumn or both. Good luck!***
Stay safe and well, friends.
Poetry is power.
I love where this poem went. I will keep turning these words over and over in my head for a while:
not sure if the water
is making room for you
or trying to push you around
Thank you for sharing this!
Aren’t we all stones in the river sometimes?
This poem is delightful! So full of unexpected story and facts. I must admit that I don’t know much about hippos. I especially like the last few lines: graceful and gray, until their ponderous hunger takes over …wanting what all of us want.
Thank you, Susan. It’s hard to think about hippos being graceful but I think they are, underwater!
I LOVE this! Wow. Your sister was the most IMAGINATIVE child! And their names!
I imagine they serve her still, these giant, imaginary friends, still hungering for sweetness and peace and occasionally coming out, chuffing and roaring.
Exactly, that’s what I’m imagining, too. I hope so. We all need our hippos.
This was so much fun to read. I love the idea of two imaginary hippos and all conjures.
Thanks, Becky!
😍😍😍😍
Thanks for the poem love, Tabatha!
Oof. The whole poem, but the second stanza, that second stanza of stony sweet uncertainty as we suddenly perceive ourselves submerged in the river of the world. May hippos called Sugar and Flour accompanying all young ones in need right now…
Oh, gosh, what a wish, Heidi. Sweet, fierce hippos — needed like never before.
Yesterday a friend–my “Gestation Buddy” from 1998 when we were both pregnant lesbians going where no friends had gone before–shared a story about her brother’s grandkids naming their four new chickens Helicopter, Sweetheart, Birthday Cake and Bob. She says, “It has become my new mantra because nothing puts a smile on my face like visualizing those names in my mind. Have a Chickaliscious day.”
I mean, BIRTHDAY CAKE. Y’know????
If this story is true, I love it so much. If this story is not true I might love it even more that you conjured a sister who had imaginary hippo friends named Sugar and Flour.
Like Heidi, I wish for all of us hidden strength that will emerge, chuffing and roaring, right when we need it most.
Well, it’s true! Make believe hippos!!
And she’s a teacher like you. She needs them now, especially!
I love this poem, Liz. I know everyone is seeing it as light and delightful. For me, it evokes the struggles of mental illness and difficult childhoods and the way we cope. So I mixed my own family history in and changed the narrative, I guess…but I connected with it so much. Thank you <3
This is what I love about poetry most, Laura. That it can be read in so many ways, it can mean what we need it to mean. I don’t think you changed the narrative at all — you just ready it through your lens. What a gift that we get to do that!
Love so much… imaginary hippo friends. I could see this as a picture book.
Ooooo a challenge! Thanks, Jone!
I’m reading this a year later, after Sara’s tanka. I love them both so much! For me this is an absolutely brilliant image of childhood, beauty, and the search for strength in the mystery.