These three writers developed this poem based on the following prompt: In a similar style to Ted Hughes' "The Lovepet," write a poem called "A Pet's Love"; thus, the speaker of your poem is the estranged wife of Hughes' speaker. The writers had about 25 minutes to write the poem.
Is he a blessing or a curse?
it overtook my life
He watched it passed by
I nourished it
hoping for healthy growth
looking for signs of life
He paraded around with others
I waited
it overtook my emotions
He ignored it
It started to fade away
I held it tight
off again it went
I lingered a moment
waiting for return
then off I went
finding another way
to pull him in tight
I watched its sickness spread to our children
So I tried to heal it
But I felt it dying in him
It overtook my life
As it left his
___________________
LIT160 Introduction to Literature, Spring 2006
Published with writers' permission
Showing posts with label Michelle Miller. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michelle Miller. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Thursday, March 23, 2006
For My Husband, Leaving His Lover (Michelle Miller)
(This writer responded to Anne Sexton's "For My Lover, Returning to His Wife," by writing a poem from the wife's perspective. I titled the poem.)
I sat waiting...
supper on the table
Dirty pots flung about the room;
it's me, I'm not stable.
The phone rings, and it's you.
I sit awaiting your excuse,
Your children cry.
To you I am the one to misuse.
I clean up the table,
knowing deep in my heart
work has not kept you late
you're with her looking at art.
I hear from friends,
about your damn parades
all over town.
Not even taking cover under shades.
I am your wife;
I've given you three children
We're supposed to be your life
And will once again
For I know her kind,
just for the moment.
She'll be gone soon, and to me,
to me, you'll come for consolement.
_________________
LIT160 Introduction to Literature, Spring 2006
Posted with writer's permission
I sat waiting...
supper on the table
Dirty pots flung about the room;
it's me, I'm not stable.
The phone rings, and it's you.
I sit awaiting your excuse,
Your children cry.
To you I am the one to misuse.
I clean up the table,
knowing deep in my heart
work has not kept you late
you're with her looking at art.
I hear from friends,
about your damn parades
all over town.
Not even taking cover under shades.
I am your wife;
I've given you three children
We're supposed to be your life
And will once again
For I know her kind,
just for the moment.
She'll be gone soon, and to me,
to me, you'll come for consolement.
_________________
LIT160 Introduction to Literature, Spring 2006
Posted with writer's permission
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