Here is my latest post for http:// jinglepoetry.blogspot.com. This week’s theme is emotions. So I began writing this poem, the emotion: frustration, and before I knew it I wrote an extremely depressing version of this poem, superbly self-loathing and terribly annoying. So I took my literary jujitsu knife and cut, cut. Even I hated the emo trash which had sprung forth from my brain’s murky depths. Hope y’all like this version. My grandma and I didn’t get along so well the last 13 years of her life , which I feel guilty over 9 years later. I was never good enough, and great, I’ve started the violins playing again, but that’s the poem’s back story.
Oh and another thing, I have the final episode of Rumors of My Death finished and just editing and tweaking this masterpiece. Look for it really soon if you’re big into 2500 word tomes on kidney infections in soap opera/melodrama format. Good times!
Oh and one other thing, for those of you doing the honor of visiting me for Poetry Pot Luck, I did a poem last week too but sadly missed the deadline. If you want to read my ‘building’ poem, here’s a link if you’re bored: https://ocdbloggergirl.wordpress.com/2010/11/11/mediocre-poetry-the-apartment-complex/
I never knew my great-grandmother, dead at 91.
But I heard of her so many times from Grandma , I can’t think of a sum.
She was perfect, benevolent, and divine,
while I maintained the mien of a swine, laughing too loud for Grandma’s taste,
never sublime.
My great-grandmother was strong, a saint even in times of great duress,
while I go to pieces at the slightest stress.
I wanted to be perfect too, I wanted to be the best.
But my grandmother died before I could pass that damn perfection test.
It wasn’t that I didn’t try, my urge for perfection will never die.
Mother cried and Jesus wept at my attempts to be perfect,
my anger and prayers co-mingle.
Uh oh, looks like I might remain single,
I’d drive anyone insane,
but it’s OK ’cause I can always pick my own brain,
failing myself at the great-grandmother perfection game.
It’s a shame she did that to you – we can never be as perfect as someone else (especially if that person is long dead), and it’s not fair to compare anyway.
LikeLike
Overall, she was a good person. The last 13 years of her life were spent with respiratory problems and was on oxygen. she might not have been getting as much oxygen to her brain as she did when I was little when she was always nice to me. She had moved from the mountains to live here at the coast with us, very different and we didn’t like living with her any more than she was, who moved from their home over 40 years. I should have been more understanding.
Thank you very much for your visit and hope you will come again!
LikeLike
Enjoyed this…why do we strive to be perfect for imperfect (like us) people?
LikeLike
Very true, but for me it’s always been a compulsion, even before I heard about how great my great-grandmother was, just made me feel it was a more realistic goal than it was.
Thanks for visiting, will check you out tonight!
Lisa
LikeLike
nice!
LikeLike
Thanks! Please come again!
LikeLike
I really like the rhythm of this poem and the rhymes were very natural, not forced sounding like some rhymed poems can be. Good poem about a tough subject.
You don’t have to be perfect to be loved.
LikeLike
Thanks, Amy, I’m very glad to hear it has a natural sound! 🙂
LikeLike
I think it's great you'd write so openly about this–and thanks for the back story!
LikeLike
lovely piece.
Thanks for sharing with potluck week 10,
award/treats to claim on entry #160.
have fun!
LikeLike
Thanks, Jingle!
LikeLike
I think it’s great you’d write so openly about this–and thanks for the back story!
LikeLike
Confession compulsion, seriously. Thanks!
LikeLike
I’d drive anyone insane,
But it’s okay I can always pick at my own brain.
Loved those two lines especially! Great write.
-Roxanne
LikeLike
Heh, thanks! Glad to please!
LikeLike
I loved the poem Lisa but the old adage ‘give up the ghost’ has never been more fitting. You just have to accept who you are and be happy within yourself. Once you can finally do that, your entire life will transform. It’s all within you.
LikeLike
You’re such a dear! Thank you.
LikeLike
Sometimes we’re too hard on ourselves, and we hold ourselves to impossible standards. And when we have an icon to look up to, it’s worse. But it is part of human nature. I guess. I like the poem, the rhyming, and the flow.
LikeLike
I’m working on giving myself a break. You’re right! Thanks for coming again!
LikeLike
Beautiful poem, and a very wonderful tribute!
I think all of us have some quality or the other which drives others insane, but then again, these qualities are what make us who we are, and that is why they are so precious.
LikeLike
Very true! Thank you so much!
LikeLike
Sometimes we can hurt scar ourselves for life trying to live up to others expectations. I enjoyed the read, as I can so relate.
LikeLike
Thank you, that means a lot to me!
LikeLike
perfect poem 🙂
LikeLike
Wow, thanks!
LikeLike
Enjoyed the rhyme and the gentle humor..
LikeLike
Very pleased you enjoyed it! Thank you!
LikeLike
My great grandmother once yelled at me for shoveling her driveway. She came out ans started yelling: "stop doing that right now or you'll never have babies!" No joke. God bless her soul – I loved that crazy woman!!! Great post!!!
LikeLike
My great grandmother once yelled at me for shoveling her driveway. She came out ans started yelling: “stop doing that right now or you’ll never have babies!” No joke. God bless her soul – I loved that crazy woman!!! Great post!!!
LikeLike