nosedive… (my glasses)…
The other day i attended a poetry workshop during our annual ‘isle of the arts festival’… i was glad i went as i learned some new ways with writing poetry… and i really enjoyed the day…
At one point the instructor asked us to write a poem about an object… So, i chose to write about my glasses.
And, as i was writing, the process seemed to take me into a deep journey—suddenly remembering John Denver—who had been a big influence in my life growing up and continues to be…
He was a huge mentor for me in many ways… as i really connected to his sensitivity—his love of life and that really moved me… what he wrote about + shared with the world… those ‘things’ that mattered most in life, family, friendship + all things sacred including our environment—our mother earth… in another way, he taught me to sing—helping me find my true ‘voice’… I did get to see him perform live a couple of times and i always wanted to meet him—to have the chance to just thank him… I know we were all shocked the day he died… i guess i made the assumption that he’d live to be an old man…
He was only 53 when he perished—one very sad day for many of us…
As i continued to write, i also remembered a video i once saw… it was a tribute to him after his death… (i’m still attempting to find this video to post here)… It was a very poignant sharing of a few select ‘known’ musicians opening the case to Denver’s vintage round granny glasses, that he was so known for… While viewing this video i remembered being very moved and so touched—as i was being witness to a very sacred moment… wow, i wondered what it would be like to do just that—open that case + hold his glasses…
While writing my poem about my own glasses i was quite surprised…as to how this simple exercise moved me so quickly to another place… a place of honouring an amazing man who held such a huge impact in my own life… so, here’s my poem—as it is, at the moment, in its draft form…
round and purple
not scratched quite yet
teeth marks cut
into one right temple arm
helps keep my hands free…
in abruptness of a recent power outage
they slipped off the top of my head
when we fumbled in the dark
on a propane burner
cracked when they hit
the frigid concrete floor
i guess they’re
not new anymore…
recalling that day
when i learned you died
over Monterery Bay
you were off to visit your daughter
when you fell right
out of the sky
mother ocean swallowed you
they only knew it was you
when Annie identified your two missing toes
from your right found leg
© 2022 all rights reserved… carol weaver x (((💜)))
—rest in peace dear sir, born December 31, 1943—died October 12, 1997…
—thank you dear John, for everything! (33/6)…
—and, when or if i find that beautiful video, i’ll post here… in the meantime, here’s another, below… xxx
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i wish to acknowledge with gratitude that i live, work + play on the traditional and unceded territory of the Snuneymuxw First Nation...
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