JOURNAL PANTOUMS

In the summer of 1998, I learned an ancient Indonesian verse form, the pantoum. Its circular way with words appealed to me, much as the mandala's circular way with images has done for years. The pantoum, as I was taught, is four stanzas with lines set up as follows: 1-2-3-4, 2-5-4-6, 5-7-6-8, 7-3-8-1. One ends up where one began, knowing it for the first time, to paraphrase T.S. Eliot.

I soon began using the pantoum in my journal as a tool to reflect on events of day-to-day life. Whether visiting my mother at home shortly before she entered assisted living, discovering therapeutic horseback riding, celebrating Ed's and my 32nd anniversary, struggling with my progressing disability, helping my sisters clear out our childhood home, enjoying an early morning 3-wheeled bicycle ride, dealing with injuries from falls, watching a fern tree in my San Francisco garden, tandem biking with Ed, waiting for election returns, reflecting on how I write a poem, responding to yet another war started by the country of my birth, or celebrating 35 years of marriage to my Ed...I felt securely held within the circle cast by each pantoum.

I offer examples here as encouragement to poets and not-yet-poets to give it a try. Remember, you only have to compose 8 new lines to complete a 16 line poem!


9/6/98

Fingers of memory turn the doorknob to my mother's house
Patsy's starfish hand guides Patricia's knobby knuckles
The brass doorknob gleams silky as mist-covered sun
Worn smooth by fifty years of family and friends

Patsy's starfish hand guides Patricia's knobby knuckles
I open the door to rooms unchanged yet strange
Worn smooth by fifty years of family and friends
Rooms where Mother shuffles as memory loses hold

I open the door to rooms unchanged yet strange
More than a picture and voice-cluttered museum
Rooms where Mother shuffles as memory loses hold
Her inviting home now a risk-filled setting for falls

More than a picture and voice-cluttered museum
The brass doorknob gleams silky as mist-covered sun
Her inviting home now a risk-filled setting for falls
Fingers of memory turn the doorknob to my mother's house


9/24/98

Her silver back ripples
Ears laid back, Cricket waits
Beside the ramp on which I stand
Cane in hand

Ears laid back, Cricket waits
I nervously eye the height of her back
Cane in hand
Heather and Sue by my side

I nervously eye the height of her back
A voice soothes, "Relax!"
Heather and Sue by my side
Strong hands lift me to the saddle

A voice soothes, "Relax!"
Beside the ramp on which I stand
Strong hands lift me to the saddle
Her silver back ripples


10/8/98

Our marriage is two spirals
Drawn by a single hand
Complete unto ourselves
Touching in the dance

Drawn by a single hand
Cosmos, Goddess, Fate
Touching in the dance
We mirror our best and our worst

Cosmos, Goddess, Fate
In motion unending
We mirror our best and our worst
Remaining lifetime partners

In motion unending
Complete unto ourselves
Remaining lifetime partners
Our marriage is two spirals


11/22/98

My body betrays me
Messages missed
Connections break down
Short-circuiting wires

Messages missed
I stumble and fall
Short-circuiting wires
My hands curl like claws

I stumble and fall
Ribs crack on the tub
My hands curl like claws
Flip-top cans don't

Ribs crack on the tub
Connections break down
Flip-top cans don't
My body betrays me


5/7/99

Azaleas blaze raw as setting sun
A fuzzy brown caterpillar crawls across my lap
Crows caw, cardinals whistle, bees buzz
I sit on the front steps, bare feet hugging mossy brick

A fuzzy brown caterpillar crawls across my lap
My pinafore pocket's friend in youth
I sit on the front steps, bare feet hugging mossy brick
Rain drops start to splatter the walk

My pinafore pocket's friend in youth
Today's caterpillar leaves a shiny new trail of memories
Rain drops start to splatter the walk
I am at my childhood home for the last time

Today's caterpillar leaves a shiny new trail of memories
Crows caw, cardinals whistle, bees buzz
I am at my childhood home for the last time
Azaleas blaze raw as setting sun


5/30/99

Full moon slides down the western sky
Silent stars grow dim
Birds awaken in song
As peonies breathe out and in

Silent stars grow dim
My bike squeaks its one-note tune
As peonies breathe out and in
I have the world to myself

My bike squeaks its one-note tune
Summer spreads out before me
I have the world to myself
A world of dark giving way to light

Summer spreads out before me
Birds awaken in song
A world of dark giving way to light
Full moon slides down the western sky


7/8/99

Bubbles from my wand catch currents in deceptively still air
Most pop inelegantly on boxwood branches beside my chair
Late sun paints spheres iridescent purple, gold, green and blue
Rainbow hues my swollen right eye will likely choose

Most pop inelegantly on boxwood branches beside my chair
Leaning forward, my bruised breastbone utters a cry
Rainbow hues my swollen right eye will likely choose
Reminders of yesterday's swimming pool fall
 

Leaning forward, my bruised breastbone utters a cry
Ephemeral bubbles continue their flight
Reminders of yesterday's swimming pool fall
Messengers of joy in the now; nonchalance with what's next

Ephemeral bubbles continue their flight
Late sun paints spheres iridescent purple, gold, green and blue
Messengers of joy in the now; nonchalance with what's next
Bubbles from my wand catch currents in deceptively still air


2/8/00

Wherever she falls is sacred ground
Sidewalk, bathtub, swimming pool
Sacred as all is sacred
Anointed by her blood

Sidewalk, bathtub, swimming pool
Earth and water
Anointed by her blood
Air and fire

Earth and water
To ground and heal
Air and fire
Of breath and passion

To ground and heal
Sacred as all is sacred
Of breath and passion
Wherever she falls is sacred ground


2/29/00

Do I stand as the fern tree stands?
Tightly-held spiral fists at my sides
Struggling against winter winds and rain
Nature's call to unfurl reluctantly skyward

Tightly-held spiral fists at my sides
Something unbidden pries knobby fingers open
Nature's call to unfurl reluctantly skyward
I resist the pull inch by painful inch

Something unbidden pries knobby fingers open
Arms stretch wings of fuzzy green branches
I resist the pull inch by painful inch
The pull to grow, to fly

Arms stretch wings of fuzzy green branches
Struggling against winter winds and rain
The pull to grow, to fly
Do I stand as the fern tree stands?


5/21/00

Sun glints off the water
White sails billow in breeze
Ed and I pump with vigor
Our bike bumps over streets

White sails billow in breeze
Long-necked geese bob on waves
Our bike bumps over streets
Lawns so green my eyes ache

Long-necked geese bob on waves
Red-winged blackbird's song trills
Lawns so green my eyes ache
Sunday noon by the lake

Red-winged blackbird's song trills
Ed and I pump with vigor
Sunday noon by the lake
 Sun glints off the water


11/8/00

We await our tomorrow
Eyes trained on one southeastern state
Will the roller coaster dip or climb?
My stomach turns in anticipation

Eyes trained on one southeastern state
Ballot (Pandora's) boxes to reopen
My stomach turns in anticipation
I remember last night's final plunge

Ballot (Pandora's) boxes to reopen
Counters hold our future in their numbers
I remember last night's final plunge
Must we ride four days or four long years?

Counters hold our future in their numbers
Will the roller coaster dip or climb?
Must we ride four days or four long years?
We await our tomorrow


11/14/00

Whose vote counts today?
Our patience wears thin
Will the president owe his win
to a Florida state judge?

Our patience wears thin
The country looks south
to a Florida state judge
Will the deadline he extend?

The country looks south
The world holds its breath
Will the deadline he extend
to pregnant chads, butterfly wings?

The world holds its breath
Will the president owe his win
to pregnant chads, butterfly wings?
Whose vote counts today?


12/6/00

It starts with a word
oozing through my pores like sweat
or beads that drip down the side of an ice-filled glass
into my open hand

Oozing through my pores like sweat
words follow one another in a salty stream
into my open hand
cupping life's experience

Words follow one another in a salty stream
coalescing in unexpected pools
cupping life's experience
a flow of meaning unknown until now

Coalescing in unexpected pools
or beads that drip down the side of an ice-filled glass
a flow of meaning unknown until now
It starts with a word


10/7/01

And so it begins
Another war against a helpless people
More bombs dropped in the name of democracy
Or anti-terrorism or "infinite justice" or just because

Another war against a helpless people
For what? To get one man they declare The Enemy?
Or anti-terrorism or "infinite justice" or just because
To fight hatred you breed more hatred, is that it?

For what? To get one man they declare The Enemy?
Yet bombs kill people not one person or an "ism" or ideas
To fight hatred you breed more hatred, is that it?
There is but one weapon to wipe out hatred: love

Yet bombs kill people not one person or an "ism" or ideas
More bombs dropped in the name of democracy
There is but one weapon to wipe out hatred: love
And so it begins


10/8/01

Thirty-five years and still we're one
How could we have known
What the years would bring
And who we would become

How could we have known
What we thought was set in stone
And who we would become
Was unknowable when we were young

What we thought was set in stone
Ebbed and flowed like ocean tides
Was unknowable when we were young
Yet our bond has grown and thrived

Ebbed and flowed like ocean tides
What the years would bring
Yet our bond has grown and thrived
Thirty-five years and still we're one


1/9/03

HOPE

fuzzy envelopes sealed shut
promise of spring contained therein
bare branches stretch toward sky
arms intertwined in cold embrace

promise of spring contained therein
seeds of hope rest unseen
arms intertwined in cold embrace
can we trust the promise?

seeds of hope rest unseen
like hopes for peace, unspoken
can we trust the promise?
does the magnolia bud believe?

like hopes for peace, unspoken
bare branches stretch toward sky
does the magnolia bud believe?
fuzzy envelopes sealed shut



©1998-2003 Patricia Lay-Dorsey. Please use with attribution.


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