Seeing is Believing Tricube – Kentucky, Winter 1967
All my life
I heard the
Kentucky
icicles
were tall as
human men
and today
I believe
it was true
Snow in Port Royal, Kentucky – Winter, 1967
Yellow Jacket Sweatshirt
Yellow Jacket Sweatshirt, 1969
Uncle Robert
Georgia Tech Engineering Grad
gave me my first Georgia Tech
Yellow Jacket sweatshirt
and my first gerbil, Brownie
in a cage with a wheel
which lasted longer than the sweatshirt
I still haven’t outgrown small critters
Winnie the Pooh and the Hundred Acre Wood
My mom’s mother worked in downtown Waycross, Georgia in the Sears and Roebuck Catalog Department. She took sales orders over the phone, and if my mother didn’t make the clothes I was wearing on her machine, it was practically guaranteed to have a Winnie the Pooh in the waist tag or on the left front chest. We got 20% off on everything – – at least, my grandmother did and so by default my mother did. When I think back on my childhood, this was my standard weekday garb. Shorts or knit slacks and a Winnie the Pooh shirt. The world had not yet thought of Velcro and light-up shoes, and honestly I think I am happy about that. At least I learned to tie my shoes early. Red Keds for the win! These were the days when dressing was so much easier – – this piece, that piece, shoes, and all the better if it actually matched. Oh, if we could just return to those days and clothes could fit as well as they used to. And if only the 100 Acre Wood were still a place as real as it once was.
L-R: Kitty (my grandmother’s good friend), me, Earl (my grandfather), Eunice (grandmother), and my mother, Miriam
What Remains
Hundred Acre Wood
remains only in the hearts
of children who knew
June 26: Family Photos ~ We Knew It Nonet
Before The World Came to Town
the St. Simons Island that we know
isn’t the touristy mecca
everyone else thinks they know
we knew its infancy
my brother and I
(before the world
came to town) ~
at its
best
June 25: Breakfast in London, 1984
In the spring of 1984, Dad took our family of four to London for a weeklong vacation. Those were the best breakfasts – broiled tomatoes, toast, bacon, and eggs. We stayed at Bed and Breakfasts where we had to share a bathroom with other families on our same floor. These are the family photos that make me want to push a button and make it real again – – to be able to sit and chat with Mom. Time stands still for no one, though, and now it’s just my brother and I who are here to have those talks.
And I am so blessed that we frequently do.
At the Eaton House B&B Tricube
one snapshot
frozen time
breakfasting
three of us
Mom, Ken, me
in London
buttered toast
orange juice
hot coffee
Homeless in Portland: Outside the Zone
I was in Portland, Oregon at the first annual Stafford Challenge Poetry Conference, and I’m not sure how one can feel exhilarated and exhausted at the same time, but I did. The days of writing held such magic here in the Pacific Northwest. From Powell’s City of Books to Lewis and Clark College to the Willamette River and the 30th floor of the Portland City Grill, I’ve breathed the air of artists everywhere.
This is a city of literature, visual art, music and dance. Have you ever been immersed in a city so filled with the unexpected?
But one humanitarian challenge is the homeless population here. All these years I’ve walked past, minded my business, tried not to look. But something has tugged at my heartstrings on this trip, and I’m rethinking my stance. Something must change.
Outside the Zone in Portland, Oregon
oh my ~ he was there/ on the street / outside Powell’s City of Books in Portland /this young man/
locking his white-blue eyes with mine/ pleading / Excuse me, Ma’am? / as I walked past/
outside the zone/a few blocks later it smacked my heart wide open/ this is someone’s child/ a mother’s baby boy/ and I? I have neglected this soul / a disco ball of fragmented pieces/ reflection’ll do that/
refracting in pieces that scatter and haunt my being as I walk on/ ripped apart / outside the zone/ wanting even now to return to hear his story/ a sermon of life there on the street/ giving more than he requests/ listen: he has a story/ we all have a story/
this poem knows regret can do a 180/ change a line like an edit/ a tide of change/ one small act of knowing someone/ asking their story/ seeing, listening, validating humanity/ on a concrete city sidewalk/ where someone needs a human outside the zone/ to enter the zone and see them, hear them, understand them
Chapel Allium
After six days of travel to Portland, Oregon for a poetry conference at Lewis and Clark College with Stafford Challenge members, I am back home in Georgia and attempting to transition back to my regular time zone. I made myself get up at 5:45 this morning for coffee and yogurt and a snuggle with my schnoodles. I stepped outside to check the world, and the birdsong assures me the harmony on the farm is still in tune here in the quiet hush of the rural countryside.
It’s my first day home being off contract for summer before I officially retire in August, and I have two goals: write/post, and get myself back in the zone. I might push it and do a load of laundry just to have clean socks. Memories are swimming in my head, full of the love and exhaustion of travel – the best kind of tired that tells you you made the most of it all and came home changed in a way that only travel and friends can change you. How truly Steinbeck the journey, the best kind that leaves you stumbling around with a cup of strong coffee trying to recover from one trip while simultaneously and secretly plotting the next.
But whatever the day holds, my heart and mind will carry all the fresh air and green trees and memories of the Pacific Northwest. I’ll read poems and remember my time there, holding it all close with a foot on both sides of the country today.
Be
there’s a bench beyond the allium
nestled beneath a tree
beside the cobbled sidewalk
come sit and be with me!
June Open Write Day 3: Souvenirs
Today’s host of the third and final day of the June Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com is Leilya Pitre of Louisiana. She inspires us to write poems about the souvenirs we bring home from trips. You can read her full prompt here, along with the poems of others and the feedback given. I have written mine today as I await a flight home from Portland, Oregon to rural Georgia, fresh on the heels of a delightful writer’s conference trip with my friend Glenda Funk of Idaho. I’ve used the style of Ada Limon’s Instructions On Not Giving Up.
Souvenirs from Portland, Oregon
more than the t-shirts and canvas bags
more than the keychains and shot glasses
more than that obnoxious prayer request card
cussing to God about the souls
of His other children
in the pew back compartment
someone intentionally forgot
to put in the offering plate
that I claimed as a bookmark
so I can pray the same sort
of prayer for Sam, Gavin, Kellen and all of us sinful humans
(yes, all of us !*(^ing %*m#@$$es)
more than the signed books of other writers
more than the leather shopping treasures,
it’s the photographs that really get to me
that keep the memories alive
stances of trees, slants of slate rooftops,
smiles of strangers and those we love
(yes, all of us !*(^ing %*m#@$$es)
standing beneath waterfalls
in the bend of the rainbow
God’s promise of hope for all His children
cloaked in the prayer shawl of His grace and mercy
(yes, all of us !*(^ing %*m#@$$es)
yes, I’ll take them. I’ll take them all.
Summer Travel Companion for the Open Write
Leilya Pitre of Louisiana is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for the June Open Write. She asks us to write a poem about the person we would choose to ask to go traveling with us this summer if we could take someone. I’ve been awaiting the release of Lauren Hough’s Monster of a Land for months. She takes a Travels with Charley journey, modern day, with her dog, Woody Guthrie. So instead of pre-ordering, I waited to buy the book at Powell’s City of Books in Portland. This bookstore is an entire city block and when you’re waiting on a book about a monster of a land, it makes sense to buy it in the monster of all bookstores.
Let’s Go, Lauren Hough!
a Steinbeck-like is Lauren Hough
an author I would ask to go
to join my summer travel band
to see this Monster of a Land!
Taking Notes in Portland, Oregon
I’m in Portland, Oregon for the Stafford Challenge Poetry Conference, and Glenda Funk and I have been out meeting people on the streets, taking notes of what to do while we are here.
Taking Notes
Glenda and I went people-ing
on the streets of Portland
asking folks
What’s your favorite thing
to do here?
then smiled for quick snapshots
to remember these kind souls
Ellie likes parks ~ waterfalls and Pioneer Square
Josh likes fishing ~ salmon and rivers
Joe likes running and showed us to a garden
Cheriss likes staying home (she attracts dead ancestors)
Arthur yawns ~ he likes sleeping
Higinio likes remembering Venezuela and Miami
Librarian poet Leslie likes reading and eating Ethiopian food
Matt likes adventure ~ camping on Mt. Hood (he has a feral cat named Big O)
Scott’s favorite thing to do is eat
we are all a human tribe~
how can we not be filled with
such a vast love,
this diverse and unified living of life?
Common Threads 