An oldie, and maybe a goodie?

I was just looking back in old e-mails and ran across this. Around this time back in 2006, I was gearing up to spend a month in Oxford, Englad pursuing a certificate in creative writing. While I went hoping to gain fluency in the creative writing of prose, I actually ended up writing poetry. I may or may not have shared this poem on my blog, but I thought I would post it for your enjoyment. This assignment was to write about home vs Oxford. Where you were vs where you are. I was sitting in the gardens of Winchester, England when I wrote this.

Memory

by me

Father and daughter run over green gardens,

manicured and soft. Lovers caress in the

corner seeing no one but the reflection of their

own self in the other's eyes. I sit, alone on a bench

dedicated to one who is lost – but still cherished.

The sound of water falls around my senses and

I wonder if I, too, will be missed.

In a land where old defies its conventional

meaning, glossy brochures describe our value

of remembrance. Nobility, martyr, wealthy,

genius, peculiar, valiant, beautiful, malicious.

Did they receive their descriptor while alive?

Here, history hangs from the branches of

willows in estates maintained to show

their original glory. As I wander the fragrant

paths, I pause, wondering how I will be described,

if at all. Does one arrive by departing?

I return to my room, wondering if anyone has been

inspired here. Will this room be known as mine?

The day winds to its end, and as my eyes

grow heavy, I write home describing this place.

But before the breeze carries me to sleep, I recall him

looking at me before my voyage away. I feel comforted

realizing memories of me have already begun.

Eulogy to my passport

While unpacking boxes, I came across the creative writing work I did at Oxford. Just thought I would revisit this one since the passport is getting dusted off in a couple of weeks.

Eulogy to my passport

Smooth blue cover
embossed in gold.
Your bindings hold stories
too heavy for your thin pages.

We have seen
so much of the earth
Together, you and me.
You gave me the world.

From savannah
to warm tropical isle.
On the top of double-decker buses
and below the bows of ships.

Hymns of Africa,
Steel drums of Bermuda.
Sing-alongs in English pubs.
These are the tunes we learned together.

Each time I held you
I said painful goodbyes,
then happy hellos.
Only to say goodbye again.

Tears stained my cheeks
and streaked each stamp.
My heart broke too much
with the freedom you gave.

Now rest in the dust
atop my shelf.
I cross the border into home
and say goodbye to you.

My first published photo

I have had my first photo published, although not that impressive. I downloaded a lot of my England pictures to Flicker some time ago, and I received an e-mail that the Schmap Travel Guide wanted to use my photo of the Radcliffe Camera for the online guide. I agreed to its use, and I received an e-mail today that the guide is complete and online!



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