Great Granny’s Caramel Cake

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my great granny Lena

made a caramel layer cake

second to none

back in the 1930s

between the Great Depression

and the sugar rationing years

teaching her daughters

the fine art of baking

just the way to moisten

the flour

just the way to bake

to touch

just the way to cook

the caramel sauce

not staying true

to any recipe, just

baking from the

knowing

baking from the heart

the way it tastes best

downtown,

a young man

“helps” an old lady across the

street when she

doesn’t want to go

still, emails come

offering to

pound cakes into molds

like this

the kind of store-bought

cake no one raves

about ever:

We are prepared

to support leaders

with individualized

coaching to positively

impact their school districts. 

We have assembled

some of the best professionals

throughout the state to serve

as executive coaches.

We have made it a top priority

to provide this

performance-based l

leadership to inspire

leaders to “GROW” and achieve

maximum impact

my granny Lena knew the art

of a thing could not

underpower

the science of a thing

because frosting-forcing

falls miserably ~ implodes

like a cake that might

have been delicious

Open Write June Day 5 with Jessica Wiley/ Day 155 of The Stafford Challenge

Today marks 155 days that those in The Stafford Challenge began a yearlong quest to write one poem each day for a whole year. Last night, we celebrated with poet Jessica Jacobs of North Carolina via Zoom, listening to her share her writing retreat to the desert of Arizona as she wrote about the art of Georgia O’Keefe. When writing group days intersect, it’s always interesting to see how several ideas can combine into one poem and fit in all of the spaces.

Jessica Wiley is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for the final day of June’s Open Write for 2024. She inspires us to write poems by taking the spines of books and using them as lines. You can read her full prompt here.

My Reading Life

Life’s Greatest Treasure

Big Magic

Some Much-Loved Poems

Bear in the Back Seat

An Unexpected Guest

Living with Haints

Dead Uncles

Slice of Life and Open Write June Day 4 with Anna Roseboro

My writing groups converge today – Slice of Life Challenge writers and Open Write writers take joy on days when we get to see all of our fellow writers on the same day when the stars align. I’m so grateful for these groups of writers who are positive people, inspiring others to write. I also joined The Stafford Challenge in January, and we are around Day 160 of writing a poem every day for one entire year – so we’re close to the middle mark. Where would I be without my writing family? I don’t want to know.

Anna Roseboro of Michigan is our host for Day 4 of the June Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com. She inspires us today to write reflection/projection poems, using synonyms for those words by looking forward and looking back. You can read her full prompt here. Today I have a working retreat before going off contract for three weeks over the summer, so I’ll be doing a lot of this today. I wrote a nonet, a nine-line poem with line-numbered syllables on each line in descending order.

Slice of Life writers are bloggers who share our posts and something about the moments of our lives. We write every day during March and all through the year on Tuesdays. You can find the home page at www.twowritingteachers.org to learn more. Today’s Slicing prompt is thinking about what inspires us to write on the early days of summer. I’m not quite there yet, but I’m almost there…….

Photo by Athena Sandrini on Pexels.com

Almost There

glancing backward to focus forward

setting the sails on this boat

checking wind direction

untying the ropes

feeling the breeze

smiling now

almost

there

Open Write June Day 3 with Susan Ahlbrand

Susan Ahlbrand is our host today for the third day of the June Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com, inspiring us to write poems about graduation. You can read her full prompt here. I’ve chosen a nonet, a nine-line syllabic countdown poem.

Photo by Rodion Kutsaiev on Pexels.com

Graduation Nonet

Teachers all worried about airhorns

beach balls should have been their concern

we learned how to inflate them

under our gowns, then how

to launch them at once

on secret cue

skyward dreams

island

style

Open Write June Day 2 with Margaret Simon – Duplex Poems

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Margaret Simon of New Iberia, Louisiana is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for Day 2 of the June Open Write. You can read her full prompt here. Margaret inspires us to write Duplex poems in the style of Jericho Brown, using this process:

A duplex poem is 14 lines, 7 couplets, 9-11 syllables per line. 

The second line from each stanza repeats as a first line for the next stanza. 

The first line is echoed back in the last line. 

My poem is inspired by a daughter’s new puppy, a dappled Dachshund named Jackson (after Jackson Pollock, for his spots). I used the Duplex form and thought of one of his famous paintings entitled Convergence and how his abstract art reminds me of things – – like these catastrophic chicken tacos that have no business being served in a shell that is only going to break and create food art under the first bite. Photo of Jackson below.

Catastrophic Chicken Tacos

catastrophic chicken tacos happen

always at lunch on taco Tuesdays

always at lunch on taco Tuesdays

shells break, insides spill onto the plate

shells break, insides spill on to the plate

revealing shredded lettuce, tomatoes, chicken

revealing shredded lettuce, tomatoes, chicken

all my cheese splatters broken taco art

all my cheese splatters broken taco art

like a Jackson Pollock painting: Convergence

like a Jackson Pollock painting: Convergence

a speckled canvas of confetti’ed food

a speckled canvas of confetti’ed food

catastrophic chicken tacos happen

Welcome to the family, dappled Jackson Pollock dachshund! May you paint the world with smiles and laughter and joy and leave your paw prints on every heart you meet!

Mosaic

Ollie is upside-down

in the olive chair

chasing rabbits in

his sleep in the quiet

morning whirr of

the fan, coffee

steam rising from

my cup, Boo Radley

curled around my neck

like a fur-fringed coat

on the back of my chair,

Fitz hiding out under

the bed again

while I consider all

the fine porcelain

plates, these

place settings of past

destined to become

somebody’s mosaic

art piece of the

future

Visual Vexations

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Visual Vexations

my brother and I

wonder still: were

Mom’s Lewy Body Dementia

confusions visual

distortions or hallucinations?

She saw a little boy in an

orange shirt sitting all alone

at the storefront and worried

about his safety.

We saw a pumpkin.

She saw strange men with

bunches of bananas

under the carport.

We saw family members

building her a wheelchair

ramp with Dewalt power tools.

She heard voices playing

tricks on her. We heard

branches scratching

the shutters in the wind.

Still, we wonder what she

would see now.

Would she know we are

her children, making our

way through this carnival

funhouse with all these

distorting mirrors

of the complex

and the concave,

wondering, too,

what things are?

Puddled Teeth

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in the sluice

of a Skytrack

crush and run

puddle a gold

shimmer reveals

a tooth

then another

and before I

wonder about

whose teeth

I imagine the

last food

chewed with

these gold

capped jewels ~

a steak?

a pork chop?

a can of

Beanie-Weenies?

a worker ambled

past pointing

at the carnage

explaining how

the fight broke

out between

two men over

his cousin’s girl

(the cheater)

and though I

did not know

who grew

these teeth

I wondered

about the

places

they’d been

before landing

in the puddled

heap all

sparkly like a

sequined dress

never to be

worn again

A Saga in Six Days of Life When You Live on a Farm: Featuring Boo Radley and the Unexpected, Day 4

Cows in the herd Boo Radley chased off through the woods

Day 4:

the brown bull

dropped its head

ready to charge

I felt surely in my

soul I was about to

witness Boo Radley

being trampled

and killed

because

though he is small

he is tenacious

ten times the size

of that monstrous bull

in his inflated mind

what happened next

was a viral Tik Tok

never to be seen

except in my own memory reel

Boo Radley

charged the bull

zigzagging

cutting left to right

back and forth

front paws

low to the ground

cussing the bull

for all he was worth

edging up to the bull

its dropped head

meaning nothing to Boo

from the corner

of the house

I could see

its nostrils flare

I covered my eyes

and peeked through

two fingers

A Saga in Six Days of Life When You Live on a Farm: Featuring Boo Radley and the Unexpected, Day 3

We have all kinds of animals trying to move in – here, a neighbor before he attempted to halter the leader of these two (it didn’t work)

Day 3:

In farming communities

not a week goes by

that some animal

doesn’t try to make

a break for it and

has to be herded

back to the home pasture

every new day brings

a Facebook Post –

pigs loose on Reidsboro Road

donkey running down Highway 362

goat with a red collar on Hollonville Drive

my favorite was the baby camel

someone reported

running down Concord Road

(the Sheriff’s Department went to

investigate and found it was

Nellie LaBerge’s Lllama)

you never know what you’ll

see in the country

but last week,

Wayne’s entire herd

of cows was loose

in the woods

between our farms

two bulls

among the herd

I was thinking

of lovely handbags

my husband was

thinking of

perfectly rounded cow

patties (dried cow poop)

(this isn’t out of the ordinary ~

just a few weeks ago we’d

had donkeys trying to

move onto the Johnson

Funny Farm

and my sister in law and

I joined in the chase

with other neighbors

to wrangle these two

asses and lead them

back home)

when Boo Radley

saw the herd of cows

eating his grass

the next day

he protected me

and our blades of grass

the black and white

bull turned tail and

ran into the woods

the milk and dark chocolate bull

stood its ground

Boo charged it

that’s when the brown bull

dropped its head

ready to charge

I felt surely in my

soul I was about to

witness Boo

being trampled

and killed

because

though he is small

he is tenacious

ten times the size

of that monstrous bull

in his inflated mind

Actual donkeys who tried to move onto the Johnson Funny Farm