Patchwork Prose and Verse
My oldest grandson turns 14 today. Last year, we went on a fishing trip together. This year, he went skiing with his youth group in West Virginia. Time is flying, and we love the time we share with him. Here he is, loving life.
today, he dribbles
yesterday, wore Poppy’s ties
tomorrow, he’s grown
there’s an inner rage
that flames up and licks reason
charring, severing
forever changing
this relationship landscape
since she departed
Today’s poem is a Haiku, inspired by the footage on my Netvue bird camera. We always seems to find such joy in watching birds, but the truth is that they argue and antagonize each other as much as people. Perhaps we laugh because they help us see the humor in human nature and how ridiculous we look.
The Quarreling Songbirds
quarreling sparrows
bicker, spar over birdseed
like squabbling siblings
A Thursday Nonet
The world thinks they were abandoned by
their guide boat in shark-infested
waters, but the truth is that
another boat came for
the honeymooners,
swept them away
to a new
better
life
Today at http://www.ethicalela.com, Britt Decker of Houston, Texas is our host for this fourth day of the February Open Write. You can read her full prompt and the poems of others here as she challenges us to write letters (epistolary poems) to our younger selves.
When anyone with human flesh
gives you advice
look them straight in the eyes
and say ~firmly~
I’ll take it into consideration.
Do not take it as gospel.
Guard yourself.
Do your own research.
They aren’t experts.
Live your own life
not the one they choose for you.
Notice more,
especially the
hands
in photos (it’s the unseen key
that will slap you
~hard in the face~
like a wet whaletail
when you finally see).
Don’t believe a single promise.
Above all,
practice your mother’s discernment.
She knew.
She knew.
Today, our host at http://www.ethicalela.com for Day 2 of February’s Open Write is Linda Mitchell of Virginia. She inspires us today to make a mash-up poem. You can read her prompt here, along with the poems of others. Here is the basic process she describes:
Read two works, perhaps poems you have loved for a long time. Find lines that speak to each other. Take a line from one poem and mash it up against one from the other. See how many lines complement each other as a new work. Write these lines, or copy and paste these lines, into a new work.
My all-time favorite poet is Mary Oliver, and my favorite poem is The Storm, from her collection Dog Songs. My father gave me a book of poetry entitled Poetry’s Plea for Animals by Frances E. Clarke, and in it there is a poem by T. A. Daly entitled Da Pup Een Da Snow, which may have actually inspired Mary Oliver’s poem The Storm. Oliver’s lines are in bold, and Daly’s are not.
Here is my Mash-Up:
Da Pup Een Da Snow Storm
Eef you jus' coulda seen -
running here running there, excited
gona wild weeth delight
now through the white orchard my little dog
ees first play een da snow
with wild feet
all around' da whole place
hardly able to stop, he leaps, he spins
an' fall down on hees face
teel hees cover' weeth white
until the white show is written upon
in large, exuberant letters
w'en he see da flakes sail
how he chasa hees tail
the pleasures of the body in this world
deed you evra see joy
gona wild weeth delight
with wild feet
mak's heem crazy excite'
you would know w'at I mean
Eef you jus' coulda seen -
Today’s poem is a free verse poem.
The Truth Teller
he asks
of the truth teller
how come
no one
else is telling
me these
things?
accusing tones
snide glares
stubborn eyes
the truth teller shrugs
gives up again
leaves the old man
in his bitter loneliness
of onion-thin skinned
sword fights of silence
inner battles raging
wielding without wisdom
each life line
severed by his own hands
so we all sit
in smiles and lies
pretending
Today’s poem is a cherita, a form that has 3 stanzas and tells a story. In the first stanza, there is one line, the second two and the third three. My cherita is also a paint chip poem, inspired by the color keepsakes.
Keepsakes
keepsakes misdirected
keepsakes
bring regret
keepsakes
tainted, uncherished
keepsakes   unkept
The first Sunday in February is set aside across our nation to honor the Four Chaplains. I attended a service this past weekend to remember them and to honor their greatest sacrifice. Today’s poem is a roundel. 
Four Chaplains Roundel
USS Dorchester torpedo attack
four chaplains lost at sea~
knew they wouldn't make it back
serving God on bended knee
price of freedom isn't free
singing hymns in arm-locked pack
Nearer My God To Thee
gentle souls in night so black~
beams for all of us to see
faith, not fear, on Heaven's track
serving God on bended knee
I’m having so much fun with The Stafford Challenge that I can’t bear to face my goal chart every month. I’m dropping back to quarterly reflections. Poetry offers more self-care, which I need more right now than thinking of all the things I’m not doing that I should be doing.
So I’m poeming instead.
Hippie Scrapbook Stickers
My childhood scrapbook, filled with stickers
psychedelic colors, hippie
Kim was here!! footprints, daisies,
seventies lettering
mushrooms, all the vibes
coolest era
best music~
Kim is
here!
Common Threads 