.
The Vice
Worse than the addiction of a smoker,
And harder to get over than cocaine,
More drawing than to gamblers their poker
Is a vice that never ends the game.
It’s worse than the attraction of a hooker
And easier to fall into its claws.
If Death came by to claim the foolish looker
He’d have to wring the vice from two cold paws.
The drunkard can not help himself with drinking;
The pyro cannot stop his love of fire.
But one vice is the worst of all I’m thinking—
Once he starts he’ll never sate desire.
So he scrolls and watches, lusts and likes
Day and night enslaved by his device.
.
.
Lifelong Labor
She’s longing for this baby to arrive;
Contractions come and go and so we wait.
The pain increases with the passing time
Just as it will with every single day
He is alive. Her body’s sufferings
Foretell the coming anguish of her soul.
For now her child is safe beneath her wings
But will be less and less as years unfold.
She’ll watch her son as he endures heart ache.
She’ll pray for his return when he’s astray.
Right now she feels her body just might break.
But once he’s born her soul will bear the weight
Of his agonies and the unknowns
From this day of his birth till he’s long grown.
.
.
The Laundry Pile
I muse amidst my laundry pile,
“I think I need a better plan.”
I sigh, though in my soul I smile.
“It seems all day I wash and dry;
I think on dirt I’ll set a ban.”
I muse amidst my laundry pile.
At times I fancy, for a while
The lot of garments spic and span.
I sigh, though in my soul I smile.
“This mountain seems to be a mile
Across. I need a dozen hands.”
I muse amidst my laundry pile.
“I’m blessed—this mess of gay textiles
Keep dressed the children in my clan.”
I sigh, though in my soul I smile.
“One day my kids will all be miles
Away. My laundry will be scant,”
I muse amidst my laundry pile.
I sigh, though in my soul I smile.
.
.
Gigi Ryan is a wife, mother, grandmother, and home educator. She lives in rural Tennessee.
All 3 are brilliant – great messages expressed in very different ways (although I can’t claim to know what labor is like). Being an empty-nester, I was particularly drawn to The Laundry Pile. I know that I was guilty of rushing through the mundane daily tasks associated with parenthood while in a rush to have the kids develop and spread their wings. I don’t know why I was in such a hurry.
Dear Warren,
Out of necessity for myself (and benefit to my children) I taught them all to help with laundry from a young age. (My daughters-in-law have thanked me for teaching my sons to cook, clean and do laundry!) Admittedly, laundry was one of my less favorite tasks and nearly impossibly to get ahead of. But I still was keenly aware that, “Where no oxen are the crib is clean.”
Gigi
1.) “The Vice” reminds me of those feckless games available on the Internet like the on advertising “If you don’t win ten million coins by your tenth try, you can cancel out.,” or something close to that. How can anyone play such a game with the only reward being flash and fake cash? This is just one of the inane games one can pay on the Internet that must entice some to wasting their lives.
2.) “Lifelong Labor” captures the essence of motherhood compellingly from the womb to the tomb.
3.) “The Laundry Pile” does much the same thing with “I sigh, though in my soul I smile.”
I know you put your beautiful caring soul into these poems.
Dear Roy,
My mother-in-law used the phrase, “from the womb to the tomb,” until I was weary of it. But I find myself quoting, or at least thinking it a lot. I wish I had been more sympathetic to her.
I wrote, “Lifelong Labor,” while my daughter was in early labor. (I was there.) Though pain gives the opportunity to grow and be fruitful, it doesn’t ever seem to make it easier to see our children suffer.
Thank you for these comments.
Gigi
I know a few people for whom The Vice perfectly fits. It’s true: day and night, whether at work or home, whether dining or reclining, they scroll and watch and hit the like button. To them, I’m outdated, and to me, they’re ultra-modern. Lifelong Labour is a heartfelt tribute to every mother and to-be mother out there. Yes, the labour never ends and as Mr. Peterson rightly said “from womb to the tomb.” The Laundry Pile seems to be a personal poem. I can very much relate to it since I stay miles away from home, and being my parents’ only son, I know, deep in my heart, that she sighs and smiles on seeing the “scant laundry.” Thank you for sharing these, Gigi. God bless.
Dear Shamik,
Yes – The Laundry Pile (and the rest) are personal poems. I am glad that you can relate to it from the perspective of a son. It proves a thoughtfulness on your part to consider how your mother misses you, even as she doesn’t do your laundry.
“The Vice” was written partly in horror as I consider the young people growing up on phones. What is the world coming to? I do not envy my children raising their children in these times.
Gigi
It certainly is ‘The Vice’ of all vices. Where I live, around 70% of drivers have a phone in their hand while driving. A new low today, a janitor was sweeping one-handed while watching or listening to something on his phone. By the way, I wonder how many of us were counting off their vices on their fingers while reading!
‘Lifelong Labour’! Brilliant title, and a piece I can well relate to, Gigi, even if from the father’s side. Once they’re off to university, it all starts.
As for the laundry – I’m not so nostalgic.
Thanks for the reads.
Dear Paul,
Thank you for commenting. I can only imagine the father’s side of “Lifelong Labor.” The older I get the more I understand certain rules and concerns my father had for me. I only wish I had appreciated them at a younger age.
Gigi
Nice work, Gigi! “The Vice” uses clever wordplay and images of addiction to point out how damaging handheld devices can be, personally and socially. I especially like the extreme couplet, “If Death came by to claim the foolish looker/He’d have to wring the vice from two cold paws.” Fortunately for humanity, not everyone is so far gone, but it does seem that persons alone in a public place will always retreat into the device, rather than begin or respond to the small talk that used to bring strangers into communication for a moment. “The Vice” is contemporary, while “Lifelong Labor” recognizes a perennial truth filled with both sorrow and joy.
There is a 2012 collection of villanelles edited by Annie Finch. Each poet included is represented by only one villanelle, but I recall several on the subject of housework. The repeating structure seems to lend itself to the topic! None, I believe, offers such transcendent if exhausted sentiments as yours.
Dear Margaret,
I agree that many household tasks lent themselves to the Villanelle. I will have to look for the work edited by Annie Finch that you mention.
I have a particular fondness for Villanelles. So much of life is liturgical and can be expressed well in poetic forms that include repetition.
Gigi
Find the villanelle collection in a library if you can! While it is interesting, many of the selections are not as good as ones available more recently on this site.
Gigi:
Well done – each poem. I especially liked “Device,” which with clever wording depicts a growing reality, and, as Paul noted, a potentially dangerous one.