stumbling through
the Moonlight Sonata
while outside the window
a twilight birdsong—
not one note out of place
Posts Tagged ‘perfectionism’
One Rusty
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged bird, perfectionism, piano, poem, poetry on July 8, 2019| Leave a Comment »
On Point
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ballet, daughter, parenting, perfectionism, poem, poetry on September 12, 2018| 2 Comments »
Sewing the ribbons
onto point shoes for the first time
I again feel clumsy
in this art of parenting.
Angle the ribbons,
or stitch them on straight?
How far from the back seam
does the elastic go?
How snug the fit?
How secure the stitch?
It was not so long ago
I didn’t know how warm
the bath. How tight
the swaddle. How
to soothe when the babe
was unable to say
what was wrong.
So little has changed,
me in the late hours
puzzling over lack
of instructions,
wanting so badly
to do it right, wishing
for some elusive grace,
astonished by how enormous
the love, the ribbon
running through my fingers.
In My Own Way
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged disorder, perfectionism, poem, poetry on November 11, 2014| 3 Comments »
Disorder, let me fall in love with you—
with whatever is torn and scattered,
disheveled and spilt. I am exhausted
with straightening, sorting and tidiness.
Let me come to adore what is muddled
and cluttered, jumbled and heaped.
Let me be easy with mud and smear and muck,
let me lose this need to make things neat.
You could sing to me, disorder. You could
play me sloppy jazz-ish tunes.
You could kiss me every time I leave
a book or dish out of place. And slowly,
with encouragement, with your nurturing,
I’d perhaps start to lose control on purpose.
Oh Disorder, see how I am? Always
wanting to hold the reins. Help me to laugh
at my stickler ways. Unshould me.
Ungood me. Unglue me. Unpraise.
All of it with the Best of Intentions
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged family, perfectionism, poem, poetry on May 6, 2014| 1 Comment »
In my family
my job was to
be perfect.
To get straight As,
the lead in plays,
to sing in tune,
to clean my room,
to not be loud,
to please a crowd,
to not say no.
I loved them so,
and this is why
I learned to lie.
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