Outside Influences - Maureen Glaude
09/20/2020 08:48 p.m.


Back to the Daffodils

Maureen Glaude was a friend and mentor of mine, back in the glory days of local poetry, especially the Sasquatch reading series, where we first met and shared publicity duties for a time.

When she passed 13 years ago, although many hearts were broken, both in Ottawa and online, fortunately, she left a wealth of accessible material, electronically and in hard copy. Her library here at Pathetic.org has been locked In memoriam since that dark summer’s day in 2007.

A year or so later, I was invited and had the privilege of helping to select which poems were to go into a small anthology of Maureen’s work, published posthumously, titled Back to the Daffodils. Copies still available upon request.

Included below are an introductory sampling of some of the pages.

The presentation closes with the back cover, including a shot of Maureen, that I took in 2003, and a short colourful poem to offset some of the darkness.


Part of the Sasquatch crew in happier times (circa 2004). Left to right: poets, Julie Szabo, Maureen Glaude, Juan O’Neill, and yours truly, Chris Sorrenti:

Mars Block

don't anyone put Mars on my computer
bad enough man's exploited the moon

leave the poets some intrigue and romance
let human beings imagine and swoon

not all allure comes at your fingertips
controlled by mechanical mouse

as long as there's life left within me
never mind if there's any on Mars

that planet's not coming in my house
it belongs up on high with the stars

2/3/2000

Last kisses and hugs

soft white body
lingering warmth in my lap
for her last kisses and strokes
my aged dog and I suffer, together
her demise

19/11/2003



Variations on a Scene

Chimera butterfly,
where went the black, orange
and yellow paisley
of your wings?

Computer technology
fades you to grey
stone frieze

your image, captured by a lens
at the instance of
your landing on a stand of
mauve loosestrife
became JPEG
introduced onto
a monitor’s screen

at the next stage in this
metamorphosis
a paint program
embossed the capture of your
exquisite form’s
natural wildlife stance and moment
into delicate etching,
granite’s shadows
trace of loosestrife you harvested
all manipulated into
a mere stain
remaining of the
bright mauve and green
bouquet

Angel petroglyph
you hover, a lacy outline
wings closed, antennae in proud V
above your head

you were caught
gingerly prodding a bloom
for nectar
and in your moment of promise
forever fossilized

30/4/2003




Author's Note: Based on Chris Sorrenti's butterfly image as shown above.





Bright Side

the best thing
about a lousy day is
it ends

26/2/2007


Coping (Haiku)

one foot ahead of the other
my heart
drags behind

7/4/2007


Digger's Tanka

the new dog on the farm
trying tag with the quarter-horse
gains Olympic speed
when the horse is the one
at the rear

15/2/2006


Found Haiku

tree climbers wanted
Driver’s License
required

24/2/2006




Follow the Dots to the End

I'm haunted by
the echo of
an experience
I can't erase

pained
no longer by
the immediate press
of cancer's claim
but by its ghosts
down within
the layers
of my new joy
always their death walk parade
rehearses noisily

its cast
began to form
even as I entered
my first respite periods
from the acute attack
and danger

each time
I emerged from
those corridors
of chemotherapy
and concern

finding some fragments of faith
somewhere that urged
stand up strong
again!

Days when I gained from solitude
graduated from sleep's seizure
accomplished rising in the morning
astonishing my family and myself
after chronic resistance to anything but rest
spirit and body slowly starting over

to face the exhaustion of effort
or complete another stretch
in the series of therapies

Was that some other person ago?

Was I truly
one of those godforsaken-seeming souls
I see when I go back for follow-up
and take home with me in prayer?

I storm about, energetic now
not qualified for over-proud
nor smug
on my way to the X-ray room
or doctor's clinic
then realize why
professionals show surprise
they're used to seeing patients
including my former self
smitten into slow motion
unsteadiness, frailty of low blood

then I remember
how huge a feat it was
to achieve a simple destination
following those colored dots
painted on the hospital floors
for direction
or wait to be examined
weary even in a wheelchair
once the cycles of chemicals
had polluted me with necessary poison

but now I've reached the stage
where my calendar is
not perpetually pockmarked
with appointments anymore
the terror and the grief
tucked away in journals
cards and letters
and some retreat in the mind
even it a fighter
reclaiming concentration
memory and focus skills
after the fog

but beneath the layers
of the luxury of life
lurks the backstory
that was mine
but not just mine

with its ghost characters
reminders of the omen
to ensure
I never take health
for granted

more than all of this
what haunts me
is the faces of the others
still weaving their weary ways
along the treadmill of terror
like prisoners in a Nazi camp
from which I've found escape
but promised to come back
for the others

1/7/2001



Bienvenido/Welcome (Acrostic)

Niño or niña, tu llegada me haría por primavera vez una
Abuela. No importa el sexo, solamente tu salud.
Nana será mi nuevo nombre, a causa de tí.
Espero que Dios te daría una vida llena de Aventuras,
amigos y amigas maravilloso(a)s y grande amor en tu mondo.


A Grandmother’s Welcome

New little boy or girl, your arrival will make me, for the first time,
A grandmother. Only your health matters, not which sex you will be.
Nana will be my new name, thanks to you. May God grant you a life full of
Adventures, marvelous friends and grand love in your world.

24/1/2007

Author's Note: for our son's and his wife's baby coming in late May.



The back cover of Back to the Daffodils, also used in Maureen’s mass card, July 18, 2007:





I am currently Calm
I am listening to Crickets outside

Return to the Library of Chris Sorrenti