Poiesis: The Words

Always chasing them
On and off the clock
at work
Notebook in my pocket
on the park bench
Or in the kitchen
waiting for water to boil
stirring in the pasta
My daughter says
‘Mom, you’re not listening
You have that faraway look’
They collaborate
behind my eyes
At night whispered
into my husband’s ear
He says
‘I love their sound
Lull me to sleep
Keep talking’
But they ambush me
I’m wide awake


Author: Mary Jo Malo

Christian, mother, grandmother, and poet of occasional worth.

21 thoughts on “Poiesis: The Words”

  1. Oh, this is excellent. Words, words, words – how they fill our day, and come unbidden. Our minds seem to have a mysterious propensity to produce an abundance of words, not necessarily at the moment we are searching for them.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you so very much! Most of this poetry was written during a time of intense creativity and catharsis. That creative stint didn’t produce anything as beautiful as my children, but it gave me a deep respect for those aspiring career writers who contend with day jobs and meeting the needs of their loved ones. When in that state of mind we sometimes labor on despite, or alongside, daily practical necessity. The word for creative ‘making’ is derived from the Greek word poiesis. Our English word poem originated in the Greek word for create!

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I share your respect for those who balance a demanded career, a busy household and family, and somehow find time to write. I have a feeling that behind every writer there are many who support, encourage and take over daily tasks so that there is time for writing. And yes, children are the most creative story of all. How very well said…

        Liked by 2 people

  2. Mary Jo, how I know that ambushed feeling by words … if an idea grabs me late at night I know I may as well sit up and write! My husband too says the sound of my writing lulls him to sleep … as my mind is feverishly in creation mode!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I do indeed know the feeling of always chasing those words, thus so for longer than I care to account. One might say that the discomfort or the kind of pain, so to speak, that of frustration, it visits upon we scribblers ought have a positive side as to reinforce the will to persevere until we get it right…

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Many thanks, Mary Jo, for your beautiful words and I imagine your husband longing for your the sound of them and I also imagine your children, when they get aware when you are far away from them in your thoughts.
    Many thanks also to Rebecca for having made this creative meeting possible:)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m so happy that you can imagine through my words, Martina. Literature can be a combination of memories, fiction and imagination. The reader can never really know which parts comprise the whole, and this poem includes all three! 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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