"Midnight Feedings" & "Blink"
Poetry about preserving the present, birthed from my creaky rocking chair.
Poetry was the first form of writing I fell in love with.
And I recently found one of my first poetry journals in an old box at my dad’s house and I’m proud to say that I’ve moved on from writing about asparagus. An excerpted poem from 10-year-old me, circa 2003:
Incredible!
Writing poetry feels like writing a secret language. A line can be both truth and fiction simultaneously. Metaphors can reveal entirely different meanings for different readers. My words can stay exactly the same, but their purpose can change completely with the slightest shift in meter.
Poetry is pocket-sized art, and I think that’s why, in 2024, modern culture is having somewhat of a poetry revival, allowing us to stop time, just for a moment, as the world tries to expand at a pace that often feels unsustainable. Holding tight to little fragments of ourselves that we don’t want to lose and finding catharsis in verse. In songs. In prose. At least, that’s what I believe.
All this to say, I’m so excited that I now have a place to share my poems that isn’t the bleak location of Doomscrollville, Instagram (population: overrun by bots and ads).
For anyone hexing time to slow, these poems are for you.
“Midnight Feedings”
By Violet Carol
It is the silent rocking dreaming like everything has meaning in the quiet you can find me in the darkness leaving me alone tears streaming from the glow of shining eyes below me beaming like there’s nothing in the world more peaceful than your tiny heart beating beneath my hands at midnight feedings
“Blink”
By Violet Carol
I memorize the lines of your little blueish eyes finding hazel in the light and now they look like mine I memorize the rolls that fold over tiny thighs holding everything inside baked croissants for my delight I memorize the hair that covers everything but where I lay my hand to your chest bare and watch your heartbeat kiss the air I memorize the lashes taking flight your hands and toes and nose above your lips that draw the light to all you are inside I memorize the button on your chin the chubby cheeks that glow in tinted rose on candied bones your mini frame too sweet to grow Bigger, please stop time blink and you’ll be five so I let air dry out my eyes to preserve you in every line
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Mother Love Letters posts include personal essays, poems, journaling prompts, and monthly Mom’s Lists on matrescence and identity.
On postpartum body image: Meeting Myself in the Mirror
On the challenges of breastfeeding: Breastfeeding is a Full-time Job
On softness and hope: To My Daughter and Her Dreams
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Oh you can't do this to me without warning, you can't go from writing about eating asparagus with a broom (a broom??) to such beautiful words about babies. It's my daughter's first birthday next week, I'm already a mess and now, again, I'm weeping (take it as a compliment) 😂
I have to tell you... I LOVE your little girl brain. The motherhood poems are gorgeous, ripe and resonant. Maybe especially so, juxtaposed with Asparagus.