Poetry Friday: Change of Plans
Not-A-Vacation
Last week, I was supposed to be here, soaking up the sun, and relaxing.
My son was going to SeaBase with Scouts out of St. Thomas, and we were flying down to enjoy a week at a resort for vacation. Several days before we were supposed to leave, my husband wasn’t feeling well. Two days before we were supposed to leave, he ended up in the ER and with emergency abdominal surgery. He’s on the mend, though the mystery of why he was so sick is still to be determined.
I spent my “vacation” in a hospital room a 45-min drive from home. We live in an area outside of DC with several big hospitals, but the two closest to our house were both full and had no available surgeons in the time he needed. Our biggest mistake was going to a super-close stand-alone ER instead of the ER inside the closest hospital. We thought, they’d run some tests, give him some meds and send him home to rest and we’d go on our vacation. We were wrong.
I’ve done very little writing except for my weekly Nevermores poem. This week we were writing contrapuntal poems–poems that can be read in more than one way. For a more formal definition, click here. Two examples: “Aubade Ending with the Death of a Mosquito” and “Notes on My Present: A Contrapuntal.”
In my writing bag was a Frommer’s guide to The Virgin Islands. I used it to create a found poem. This contrapuntal poem can be read three ways: 1) left column (the found poem from the guidebook), 2) right column (all my words) 3) reading all the lines (L-R, L-R) like a regular poem.
Trading St. Thomas for Emergency Surgery: A Contrapuntal
leave the hubbub far behind
where your medicines dictate your schedule
they offer half-day excursions
walking around the ward despite your weakness
standard issue tropical decor
bleached sheets and tubes
a vision at night
blinding fluorescents and the blue light of the nurse’s screen
soak up the views
hospital roof between blind slats
clean and sparkling
your room disinfected from the last patient
eclectic mix of global cuisines
your stomach can’t handle—so you opt for broths, not
high on your vacation agenda
paying for a resort that you can’t sleep in
glittering harbor views
your son texts photos of what you’re missing
rimmed in sparkling turquoise seas
not the vacation you’d imagined
Draft by Marcie Flinchum Atkins, July 2024
Haiku of the Week
wild hairs still dewy
from last night’s party
on the mountain
Photo Taken: May 12, 2024 at Shenandoah National Park
Haiku Written: June 27, 2024
Poem as Picture Book
by Billy Collins
illustrated by Karen Romagna
Bunker Hill Publishing, 2014
This is a 100-word poem about where books can take us.
Poetry Connections
- metaphor
- personification
- alliteration
- imagery
Links
Grow
I had to let a lot of stuff go–this is extremely hard for me. The good news is that I had cleared the decks writing-wise before the surgery because we thought we were going on vacation. But my personality says, “You have all this downtime in the hospital, you should write.” The truth was, I was pretty exhausted from the stress leading up to a middle-of-the-night surgery, and then waiting up for that surgery to be finished, and having to cancel vacation plans, and still make sure my kid was ready to go on his trip. My brain and body rebelled against my writing plans. So I’ve been sleeping and reading. Instead of pushing myself, I’ve tried to accept it. I get so few days as a “full-time writer” because of my day job that I feel like I’m wasting my summer time if I don’t write a few hours a day.
29 Comments
Rose Cappelli
Marcie – please be kind to yourself. You went through a lot this week and still managed to write a wonderful contrapuntal poem. I hope you take some time to rest and that your husband continues to heal.
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
Thank you, Rose!
Margaret Simon
What a bummer! I’m so sorry this happened. We’ve had two summers of medical events and no vacation. I just booked a place for a Christmas getaway with our kids and grands. Here’s hoping it happens. The form you used is new to me. I want to look more into it. I’m glad you were able to get some writing done, enough to join the roundup today. Not writing would have been understandable.
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
I’m hoping you can enjoy that Christmas getaway without incident. So sorry you missed your vacation. 🙁
Laura Purdie Salas
Oh, Marcie–I’m so sorry. ALL of this sucks, except for the fact that your husband is on the mend. I’m sad for your lost vacation and lost writing time. Your poem’s so clever–the lines about the eclectic cuisine that his stomach can’t handle–ha! Sometimes, you just have to lean into the crap and acknowledge it. I hope things get better soon. <3
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
Lean into the crap is right! What a mess! Thank you, Laura!
Denise Krebs
Marcie, I’m soooo sorry for this bad news. St. Thomas would have definitely had better views and tropical decor. The contrapuntal form is very interesting. You seem to have nailed it with so many great lines and images, like:
“bleached sheets and tubes / a vision at night / blinding fluorescents and the blue light of the nurse’s screen / soak up the views” I hope all is well and you are on the mend!
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
Thank you, Denise! It was a fun form to try! Thank you for your lovely package. I will get yours out this week. I got delayed because of all of the medical drama!
Tabatha
Marcie, I’m sorry about your husband’s mystery illness. I hope it doesn’t return. You did a top-notch job with your contrapuntal, nailing the frustration of the contrast between places.
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
Thank you so much!
PATRICIA J FRANZ
I lingered on the line “hospital roof between blind slats” –realizing how long you likely stared out that window in a daze wondering how your world became up-ended. This post makes me think of Rose’s poem “Enough” — the foot-stomp and simultaneous surrender to life. And then your hungover flower, to make me laugh — Yes, Marcie, I do hope you go easy on yourself and let your body give in to this unplanned vacation –even from your writing schedule. There will come time for it again.
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
The time is now. 🙂 I have some stuff from an editor to look over this weekend. Sometimes a deadline is what is needed to put my BIC.
Annette Whipple
I learned hospitals (and the aftermath) aren’t good for writing. I recently took care of myself when a loved one was in the hospital by showering daily and eating 3 times a day whether I was hungry or not.
Be kind to yourself. Emergencies and disappointments don’t lend themselves to much writing for most of us.
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
Such good advice! I went home to sleep after the first night because 1) I needed to check on my kids and 2) I needed to actually sleep.
Teresa Robeson
Oh, Marcie, that is super scary about your husband needing emergency surgery (and making you miss a much-needed vacation). Big hugs to you and lots of healing vibes for your husband. 💗
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
Thank you, Teresa! He’s on the mend. And I’ve finally caught up on my sleep.
Carol Varsalona
Marcie, I am holding on to the thought I’ve had throughout my years: “Life is fragile and uncertain.
After a springtime of an unexpected medical issues, I can sympathize with your husband and your lost vacation. I also have felt guilty not writing. Stress is the element that brings the body and will to a standstill. Despite your issues you were able to writ ea beautiful haiku. At least nature had a party.
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
So true: “Stress is the element that brings the body and the will to a standstill.” Yep, yep, yep.
Carol Varsalona
Marcie, I am holding on to the thought I’ve had throughout my years: “Life is fragile and uncertain.
After a springtime of unexpected medical issues, I can sympathize with your husband and your lost vacation.
I also have felt guilty not writing. Stress is an element that brings the body and will to a standstill. Despite your issues you were able to write a beautiful haiku. At least nature had a party.
Jone MacCulloch
Oh Marcie, I can’t imagine. I am glad that your husband is on the mend. I do love the contrpuntal and am curious about it. Love this line: they offer half-day excursions
walking around the ward despite your weakness
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
Thank you! I hope that you try a contrapuntal poem! They’re pretty fun.
Mary Lee
I had to make lemonade when I was stuck in New York, but that’s NOTHING compared to how flexible you have had to be! Hoping your husband is on the mend. What a scare!
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
I’d rather be making lemonade in New York (other than it’s so expensive!!!). But anytime there is an unexpected pivot, it causes stress.
Ruth
Oh, so sorry to hear about what happened to you! Hope your husband is doing better.
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
Thank you! He’s on the mend!
Michelle Kogan
You penned a powerful poem Marcie! I’m familiar with this form from a Poetry Workshop I did at the Poetry Foundation here in Chicago a while back. The additonal contrapuntal are strong too, I think I have read “Notes on My Present.” You’re a real go-getter—it’s hard for me to slow down too. Hope your husband continues to heal.
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
Thank you! He’s doing better!
Susan Thomsen
Marcie, you really made lemons out of lemonade. The found poem is wonderful. I send good wishes for a speedy recovery for your husband.
Marcie Flinchum Atkins
Thank you so much!