Adoption Poetry and The Earth’s Final Destruction

It’s Carnival time again at Grown In My Heart, this time it’s all about poetry.  You can participate by writing a blog post on the subject and clicking Mr Linky (that always sounds kinda dirty to me, like “Come sit on Mr. Linky’s lap, little girl.” ) right here.

OK, here we go….

The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy defines Vogon Poetry as such….

“Vogon poetry is the third worst in the Universe. The second worst is that of the Azgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent, of his poem, Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in My Armpit One Midsummer Morning, four of his audience members died of internal hemorrhaging, and the president of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council, survived by gnawing one of his own legs off… The very worst poetry in the universe died along with its creator, Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Sussex… in the destruction of the planet Earth.”

Though very little of Mrs. Jennings poetry survives, I am certain that she was must have had some connection to adoption.  There could be no other way The Guide would have granted her the distinction of worst poet in the universe.

Adoption brings out the most evil of muses.  That muse that would tempt one to compare not just body parts but bodily functions with the act of filling out paper work.  To entice one to draw parallels between celestial occurrences and bureaucracy. Between one’s arms and a dumpster.

It is almost impossible not to fall into the many traps that lay in wait for the aspiring adoption  poet.  The more passionate the writer, the more dangerous the pitfalls.  The state of mind responsible for one poet to rhyme ‘orphanage’ with ‘mother’s gaze’ is nearly unimaginable.

If for any reason you are tempted to pen a poem about adoption, first call a trusted friend, or seek the support of family or clergy.  You don’t have to be responsible this.  Help is available.


3 thoughts on “Adoption Poetry and The Earth’s Final Destruction

  1. I am an adoptee, who grew up a ward of the state after being removed from my adoptive home..I am also a birth mother, who lost my first child, a girl, to forced circumstanicial adoption (i call it) years later..
    I loved this piece, along with the comments about adoption poetry, and the parallels one draws in the midst of reunion chaos.. It made me chuckle..
    I love to see this progression in my adoption poetry pieces.. For instance an older piece of mine, is a song, and written with the heart of a searching daughter, looking for her mother… Sad, pathetic, slightly hopeful..The 2nd , was after finding mother, and reflects the fact that I was on some cloud somewhere, and completely , blissfully deluded..! Then there is my song after my reunion with my daughter..Aptly titled “Here Comes The Rain”.. That reunion gradually melted into the disaster it is today, so of course I had to vent through music again.. Interestingly enough, I think that song, was the best of all.. My, how far I have come !!!:) Thankfully, I didn’t have to write a song about my failed reunion w/ my own mother.. There already was one..:) ”Gloria”.. “I think I got your number.. I think I got the alias, that you’ve been livin under”..

    • It is amazing how things change with reunion after time. I was never much of a poet, but I completely understand about your feelings.

      And good call, I had never thought about “Gloria”. Yeah, that does work.

  2. I love how you treated this.

    In the meantime, your calling as Little Sister Who Drinks Martinis is still open. Bonus: we freeze the vodka so you don’t need to dilute with ice. And we can read some bad poetry while Big Sis does the never-ending homework.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s