#VerseLove April 27

Today our host for #VerseLove is Chea of Texas, who inspires us to write poetry with regional dialect ~ to tell something as it really happened, in our home language. You can read her prompt and the poetry of others here. I’m sharing a phone conversation with my dad one early morning not too long ago and wrote it in prose during the Slice of Life Story Challenge.

Hopin' Folks Out

my phone rings early 
Dad

I have a story I need to tell 
while it’s fresh on my mind
before I forget

I grab my pen

It was back in the old days in rural Georgia 
when I was preaching at Ohoopee
This was down around Highway 19
where you’d go through Wrightsville
meander over to Tennille
and then head on out to Sandersville
a sea of cotton fields  
roads all red clay

Ohoopee was a church of miracles
a cured drunk who loved the Lord led the singin'
“On Jordan’s Stormy Banks,” 
only he pronounced it Jurdan’s.
and he weren’t wrong.

a fellow named Noah in the church 
needed help finding 
where to dig his well
even with a name like Noah

back in those days
people were people 
folks’ existence was all about 
helpin' their neighbors out

now 
old Elvis heard about it
“I’m coming over to hope you out” 

I went over there too
to see Elvis hope his neighbor out

Elvis said he had a divinin'  rod – 
a hickory branch –  to find water 
Elvis walked  
it tremored
I saw it with my own eyes
they dug that well right there

they called this place Possum Scuffle
back over in Harrison by Raines Store 
over yonder by Deep Step and Goat Town
by Margaret Holmes's cannery ~
black eyed peas and collards. 

 in Acts 27
Luke is in a ship in a storm 
using stabilizing ropes 
~ also hawsers or helps
a help is a hope rope
on land or at sea
it's Biblical, Kim

now
you remember that

write it down





#VerseLove April 24 with Susie Morice

Today is Day 24 of #VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com, and Susie Morice is our host. She inspires us to write poems using a junk drawer to determine things about who we are. You can read her full prompt and the poems of others here. I chose to write about the treasure I found in someone else’s junk dogs.

Fitz
These Three Kings

I found three castoffs
betrayed, neglected, abused
I crowned these three kings 
Boo Radley
Ollie, “the baby” who is always ready to play

#VerseLove April 23 – with Alexis Ennis

Alexis Ennis is our host today for #VerseLove, inspring us to write poems about historical figures. You can read her full prompt here. I chose Teddy Roosevelt’s firstborn child as my figure.

TR’s diary entry Valentine’s Day when both his mother and wife died, one upstairs, one downstairs.
 As a preacher's kid (we seem to have a reputation to live down to, and I've always done my best to keep the trouble going), I was a reader drawn to the troublemakers like Queenie Peavy by Robert Burch in children's literature and Alice Roosevelt in biographies.  So that favorite interview question about whom I'd bring back if I could go to lunch with anyone?  Yeah, mine was always Alice Roosevelt, with footnotes about how she and I would have surely landed in jail together, cellmates somewhere for some crazy idea we hatched.  She had her own eye color named for her (and the US Navy uses this color named for her on its insignia).  So much more to tell about her, but here's the seed-starter packet:  



Eyes of Alice Blue



not under MY roof

her father TR told her

of smoking her cigs



she puffed on the roof

her snake Emily Spinach

there too, in her purse



no Taft supporter~

a murrain on him! she raged

blue eyes her namesake



what a character!

completely out of control

she fascinates me!



come sit by me if

you don’t have something nice to

say about someone!



born two days before

mom died upstairs, grandma down

under the same roof



death clouded her birth,

Alice Roosevelt Longworth

lived in those shadows



For Alice Roosevelt Longworth 

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/from-a-white-house-wedding-to-a-pet-snake-alice-roosevelts-escapades-captivated-america-180981139/

#VerseLove April 22 – with Emily

Emily is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for Day 22 of #VerseLove.

Today is Earth Day, and Emily encourages us to write about an island of our choice. I grew up on two islands – one in Georgia, one in South Carolina. I love today’s topic, because I’m back on St. Simons today spiffing up our rental unit here, remembering my youth softball league playing in the ballpark across the street, walking the village where I crabbed on the pier with my mother. It’s a perfect day to enjoy the island vibe with three out of control schnoodles who can’t get enough of all the salty sea smells.

St. Simons Island, Georgia

Childhood
Memories splash
Time-faded photographs
Redigitized to present-day
Beach walks

sea smells
salty schnoodles
savoring Saturday
still snoozing, sunrise sand dune soon
spoiled sons

#VerseLove April 21 – with Darius Phelps

Darius Phelps of New York is our host today for Day 21 of #VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com, inspiring us to write poems of grief or disillusionment. You can read more about Darius and read his full prompt here. He mentions that the ancient Chinese believed that by burning the house down when relatives died, it would send the house to the place where they were so they could have their homes beyond this life. I reflected for a while on that idea this morning, even chuckling about the Calgon laundry whitener that I remember commercials for as a child – – an Asian actor would come into the frame holding a box, saying, “Ancient Chinese Secret” when someone wondered about how the clothes got so clean. I think the ancient Chinese had a lot of things right. Come join us and read today’s poems.

Up in Flames ^ Choose One: House or Legacy? ^


those ancient Chinese

had it right: burn the house down!

strike up the torch flame!



better the house go 

up in smoke than the siblings

killing each other



who gets the dwelling?

who gets the crystal timepiece?

who "gets" anything?



executor’s call:

who gets to make decisions?

who denies morphine?



which one plans all meals?

oh, but NO SUGAR, stage 4

cancer patient fat?!?



what is this fresh hell??

give Mom a damn M&M!

stop controlling LIFE!



inheritance sucks

some get fortunes, some get F(ORK$#)

who "gets" anything??!



those ancient Chinese

had it right: strike the match and

walk in peace from fire

#VerseLove April 19 – with Stefani Boutelier

Our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for Day 19 of #VerseLove is Dr. Stefani Boutelier of Michigan, who invites us to write a poem without a title and invite others to give the poem a title. You can read her full prompt, along with the poems of others, here.

Today, I've written a riddle-type poem (Haiku two lines short of a Haiku sonnet), open-ended, to invite readers to title this poem AND to add two seven-syllable lines to the end to make it a true Haiku sonnet if you wish.  I'll add my title after the photo at the bottom so you can see what my initial title was.  It's subject to change :). 



never have I met

anyone who on first taste 

liked its bitterness



sipping piping hot

aromatic wakefulness

swallowing its truth



ah, but sip by sip

its addiction is for real~



can’t live without it!
A lavender latte from my local coffee shop, where I’ll be reading poetry tonight – YAAAY!
A book of poetry

The title I initially landed on was Coffee and Poetry – original, I know! Perhaps you can figure out a better title for this poem! Leave ideas in the comments, please.

#VerseLove April 18 – with Fran Haley

Fran Haley of North Carolina is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for Day 18 of #VerseLove, inspiring us to write a triolet. You can read her full prompt here and see the form for this 8-line short form with rhyme scheme. Fran is a fellow teacher, a bird enthusiast, poet extraordinaire, and she named one of my plants on my front porch: Leafy Jean (which led me to a name for the other plant – Leafy’s brother, Leon Russell – – children both buried in a cemetery Fran visited as a child). Today I am keeping yesterday’s blog writing topic with the Rose of Jericho and changing it to a poem – a triolet!

Choose to Live!

Rose of Jericho ~ brittle, brown, dry
unfurl your fingers! choose to live!
mixed tears of grief and joy I cry
Rose of Jericho ~ brittle, brown, dry
my gaze drifts heavenward, eyes to the sky
reassurance of faith and hope you give
Resurrection plant ~ tears green you, oh my!
unfurl your fingers! choose to live!
Rose of Jericho ~ brittle, brown, dry – an Easter gift from my daughter
Rose of Jericho ~ choosing to live, in my mother’s milk glass on the kitchen counter
Leafy Jean at 7:25 a.m. on this day, thriving on the front porch here in Georgia
Leon Russell, her brother, at 7:25 a.m. on this day, thriving on the front porch

#VerseLove April 16 – with Susan Ahlbrand

Susan Ahlbrand is our host today for Day 16 of #VerseLove. She inspires us to write poems about friendships that didn’t work out for whatever reason, whether there was a move or a disagreement or a divorce or another form of distancing. You can read her full prompt here. I wrote about a time I left a church because the views became too radical to accept.

Blind Ewe

so you’re holier.
new pastor said NO WOMEN
his blind sheep believed

not one stood with me
not one challenged his iron fist
not one saw the wolf

wife who rarely spoke
children white as untanned lambs
always in the house

I took a firm stand
when I saw the truth. I left
that mutton pasture

one by one others 
did too, down to a dozen
“disciples” who stayed

brainwashed radicals
worshipping legalism
no grace, mercy, love

so you’re holier?
is that what you call yourself?
guess again, girlfriend.

Ewe blind

#VerseLove April 15 – with Allison Berryhill

Allison Berryhill of Iowa is our host today for Day 15 of #VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com. She inspires us to write poems about what we missed, or what could have been. You can read her full prompt here.

What You Missed

what you missed
you’d have never seen anyway

the way he looks like his mother
the way he casts his line
the way he asks with concern
the way he answers with passion
the way he doesn’t miss a beat
the way he marches to his own
the way he loves animals like Mimi did
the way he rescues turtles
the way he named his baby duck Steve
the way he knows departure
the way he feels betrayal
the way he talks all scholarly
the way he tells books start to finish
the way he hugs his cousins
the way he thinks in waves of blue
the way he ponders nothing new under the sun
the way he sees the world
the way he doesn’t see the world

five years from now 
he’ll carry fewer memories of you
because you were absent
    off praying for all the others
      at a ballpark
       again forgetting your own
that depth finder could see fish
   but will never show the depth of 
what you missed