Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Mother's Day Poem

I was going to save this for a Mother's Day post, but since we're on a TRIBUTE theme this week, I thought the following poem would fit in nicely today - I first came across it over at martawrites.

The poet laureate, Billy Collins, wrote "The Lanyard" as a tribute to his mother (a lanyard is like a boondoggle - think of that scene in Napoleon Dynamite where Deb tries to sell Nap. a boondoggle from her Ca-boodle at his front door).

Watch Billy Collins read the poem HERE - much better than reading it to yourself!

The Lanyard

The other day as I was ricocheting slowly
off the pale blue walls of this room,
bouncing from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one more suddenly into the past --
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sickroom,
lifted teaspoons of medicine to my lips,
set cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light

and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift--not the archaic truth

that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hands,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

- Billy Collins

2 comments:

Chris said...

Steph,

That is an awesome poem. Thanks, do you have any other good ones for mothers day in your expansive brain space? Im looking for one to memorize for my mom, to recite her on mothers day. She's always asked for that as a gift.

Maybe I'll write one.

Thomas' said...

That is so hilarious! Do you think it too inappropriate for a Mother's Day talk in Sacrament meeting? Ha, ha!