Patchwork Prose and Verse
On the first night of the trip, I got Sawyer to share the theme of this year’s trip since the gathering we had in June was sad for everyone. We wanted to shift the grief of our Dad and Papa to togetherness and fun by telling old stories by the fire and making new memories as we get out and go adventuring. And so our theme is……
Sawyer revealed our
family mountain trip theme:
Fireside Stories! (Shirts)
cousins reunite
in the most logical place:
on the kitchen floor!
This month, I continue writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Today’s prompt asks where we have traveled, even if it is just down the street.
It’s been a while since I’ve had morning coffee over an Ada Limón book, so this morning, that’s where I’m traveling. I’m using Instructions on Not Giving Up as a mentor poem for my poem about traveling today. As they say of travel, “Birds have wings; humans have books.”
Instructions on Traveling the World
more than the elusive green and Seine of Paris, a city
of concrete and stone, more than the Thames rushing by
The Tower, more than the Spree and its bridge of love locks, it’s
the early morning steam rising off the quaint rural ponds
that really gets to me. When darkness clocks out
and the world is still, you can see the wispy white nightgowns –
those sheer ones that seem to float – hanging onto the
threads of the night waters. Flowing, fading, an ethereal mist
takes shape, vanishing into all assurance of another place
and promise of return. Fine, then, I’ll take it, my soul seems
to say, embracing faith that this is how the cycle works
across the globe, transcending Heaven and Earth as I grasp the truth
of it, finally: it’s not about where my body goes, but where my
mind and soul go that really matter in this life.
I’ll take it all.
This month, I continue writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. The prompt today is inspired by a question in Brother, I’m Dying asked by one of Edwidge Danticat’s brothers of his father after he tells his children he has a fatal disease. Goldberg asks us to answer that same question, honestly – to do an honest assessment.
I’ve chosen a shape poem today, also called a concrete poem since it takes the form of a tangible object or symbol shape. So here’s a lamp to shed a little truth on the answer to the question today.
Shedding Light On the Subject
I’ll answer
since you asked
I’ve enjoyed life, sure,
but I’m gonna squeeze out
the pulp and drink the dregs~
I’m ready
to retire
to travel
to linger over coffee
to wear comfortable shoes
I don’t want to slide into home
like a lot of people say they do
oh no, I want to be a little old
lady shuffling in with
hardly a breath left
This month, I continue writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Today’s prompt is to tell about a body of water with which you are familiar. What comes to mind is the creek that ran through the back yard of our honeymoon house years ago.
Honeymoon Creek
its babbling trickle
from the top of the mountain ~
we watched for black bears
from our wraparound
porch with fireplace and rockers
sipping fresh coffee
~ always, it seems, I
wish we were living right there
in all the wonder
Today’s host of the first day of September’s Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com is Kelsey Bigelow, who works as a mental health poet and renowned author of books, slam poetry events, and writing workshops in Iowa. You can read all about Kelsey and visit today’s prompt and poems here, as she inspires us to think about what lives on the “good side of memories.” Today’s writing is rooted in stream of consciousness writing that can live on in that form or be the start of one that takes root for another.
It’s All in the Kneading and Knowing
the happiest thing
I’ve ever tasted was that moment
when in my grief
soul-gutting tears in a
big-enough-for-all
walls of a VRBO
reverberating sniffles
and crumpled Kleenex
and happy laughs of
oblivious grandchildren playing
with their newest cousin
trying to teach him
to walk at six months
and believing he could
the strains of Amazing Grace
sung to a guitar
by the rest of us trying
to sing with the best of us
believing we could
as we all sat piled high
on the curved couch
pajama-clad, remembering
*******. ********
then one broke the silence
asking for a happier moment
in the autumn – another together
time when smiles returned
then another added
yeah, when
any of us can
make a word from tiles in
turntable Scrabble
and another added
yeah, and only if Mom
brings the pumpkin bread
and right then
in those delicate moments
I knew three things:
that I had taken the reins
as the newest family elder and
that tradition of togetherness
lives on in food tried first
as a flopped recipe
when they’re toddlers, then tested
again and again to perfection
by the time they’re teenagers
and can’t think of gatherings
without it and
that families too
are like that ~
learning to walk
learning to sing
learning to bake
learning to live on
believing
through all the tears and laughter
that together
we can
This month, I’m writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. Today’s post inspires us to write about what we bring – in our purses, on a trip, to a party, in our suitcases, in our book bags or in our cars.
I’m reminded of our adventure book club that met at Barnstormer’s Restaurant in Williamson, Georgia the. month I couldn’t attend. You read that right. I’m reminded of a memory I don’t actually have. We’d recently finished reading a book entitled The Last Flight, where two women change identities to fly off to new lives but then one plane crashes. This inspired us to meet at our local small airport’s restaurant and actually bring a bag of only the five things we would take if we ever left and were limited in our departure possessions. They had to fit in a tote bag or small personal bag you’d carry when flying. We excluded cell phones, chargers, wallets with money/photos, and medications.
Only thing is, that’s when my father was in Hospice in his final hours and I was out of town – so I heard all about what happened at that book club meeting but was not able to attend. Today, this question for the prompt is timely. What would I bring?
5 Things I’d Bring
I’d bring the tiny obsidian dog
to remind me you knew my heart
I’d bring the silver pearl cross
to remind me you knew my faith
I’d bring the pumpkin bread recipe
to remind me you value tradition
I’d bring the bracelet with the cardinal
to remind me you know transcendending love
of motherhood
I’d bring the memories
to carry you in my heart forever
This month, I’m writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. Today’s prompt asks to tell about a favorite cafe, diner, luncheonette, or coffee shop. One comes to mind before all others: The Midpoint Cafe in Adrian, Texas on Route 66.
This little retro cafe is not what you’d expect. There’s a lady in there who makes the pies, and she’s the aunt of the young mom who was our server, who told us all kinds of stories about growing up right there and how she’s climbed the windmills before. She took the time to tell us about life in Texas and how she’s from a long line of Texans right there in that town.
I was listening, watching intently, savoring every sense of this place (especially the pie, the pie, the coconut cream pie) and thinking, even as I faced going back to school as an educator, that life right there is some sort of splendid destiny. How many people get to serve their aunt’s delicious pie in a cafe and meet people from all over the world, traveling to see a slice of America? It sounds like it should be the next Hallmark Christmas movie, really, this young single mother swept off her feet by a lost Texan who moved to Chicago to be some kind of an architect and got swallowed up by the CEO and business types but is called back to his home state to design new rodeo grounds and has a flat tire so he stops by for a piece of pie……or something like that.
That’s a place I need to return. I wish they shipped those pies and I could have a slice for supper. Best. Pie. Ever. And….did I mention that I don’t even particularly like coconut? Never have.
But that pie!!!!!
Chime in with your favorite cafe. I’d love to visit all the good ones and know just what to order.
In Dad’s final days, we gathered audio clips to preserve his stories, prayers, and words of wisdom. In today’s clip, he shares about one of his favorite topics – The Springs of Elim – and how they worked in his own life.
fresh Springs of Elim
waters of restoration
reviving the soul
Today for the second day of the July Open Write, Jennifer Jowett of Michigan and Deborah Wiles of Georgia are our hosts. They inspire us to write I Once Knew poems, using a process they describe at this link. Hop over and read some of the poems that will be eclectic and unexpected. This is one such random poem process that is, what I believe, makes poetry shine and sparkle.
To Be Continued
I once knew Miss Sue
who taught me
how to swim in
her backyard pool
now filled in
with earth and flowers
I once stayed at
The Blue Swallow Motel
with the Swiss dot bedspread
and Moon Pies on the pillows
and t-shirts advertising
refrigerated air conditioning
as I drove Route 66
I swam in the Illinois
cornfield sunset
I swooned over the
coconut cream pie
at the Midpoint Cafe
in Adrian, Texas
I sweltered in the
Palo Duro Canyon
Texas heat
where even the road runners
know to sit in the shade
of the picnic tables
I sweethearted a
photo finish kiss
with my husband at
Cadillac Ranch
I swapped my beaded
quartz bracelet for one
made of turquoise and
mother of pearl
in Albuquerque
at the store with
the red war paint door
because it reminded me of
my mother
I swore to return to
finish the route
to be continued…..
Common Threads 