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Susie Morice is our host today for VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com , inspiring us to use the news to write poetry of place, time, era. I found an article in this month’s Georgia Magazine for today’s poem.

Macon Music Again

Capricorn Studios

Macon, Georgia

birthplace of 

Southern Rock~

southern soul 

and Rock and Roll~

50 years ago

when Otis Redding

and Phil Walden

booked frat party gigs

at Mercer University~

Allman Brothers Band

Marshall Tucker Band

Lynyrd Skynyrd~

But the music stopped

historic tax credits

private gifts and grants

resurrected the bankrupt

studio in disrepair

a drumbeat ~a heartbeat~

pum PUM, pum PUM, pum PUM~

brought life back 

to this timeless studio treasure

‘Macon Music’ again

ghosts of the heyday

haunt halls 

roam Recording booths

musical magic

to inspire generations

of rising stars

I found an article in April 2002 Georgia Magazine, but a similar link is here: https://capricorn.mercer.edu/history/

Psalm 95:1 

Oh come, let us sing to the Lord; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation!

Quirky Poems

Our Host

Inspiration 

In the book Poemcrazy:  freeing your life with words by Susan Goldsmith Woodridge, I felt a deep sense of connection when I read about how Wooldridge’s younger brother had made fun of their dad’s tacky blue socks – nylon, with two black stripes around the top and, upon his return to college, found his dad’s ugly socks hiding in his suitcase.  The next time he returned home, he hid them in the house until they were found by his parents and returned during the next family gathering, even once making an appearance next to a rubber chicken in his honeymoon getaway car. Twenty-five years later, they are still exchanging these socks that they hide until one finds them and returns them.  It brought back memories of my parents, who, up until my mother’s death, took turns hiding a Where’s Waldo figurine around the house for the other to find.  

Process

We all do quirky, bold things that break the ice and bring us closer together.   Think of a time that you’ve done something quirky – – with friends, with family, with students or even complete strangers.  Let’s share our quirky exchanges today and whatever emotions they bring – in whatever form of poetry we choose.

Silke with Squeaky in Berlin, Germany, May 2019

Quirky Quackers

in Berlin, Germany

with tour guide 

Silke /Zilkuh/

who said we could

call her Silky

“like my hair”

she joked

and smiled

and laughed

by the wall

but group rules

were no joke

she had a little duck

named Squeaky 

she’d squeeze 

all through the crowded 

streets so we didn’t 

waddle off

people stopped and stared

at this grown woman 

little duck

held high

squeaking 

leading a team 

wondering whether they, too,

might better get in line

we were her ducks

in a row

until it was time for 

pair-square-quads

we grabbed a partner

and then another pair

and quacked by fours

to be sure all her ducks 

were safe

swearing we would never

use these quirky tricks with our

own groups of touring students

then secretly rushing off to buy 

our own squeaky ducks

 Proverbs 17:22 A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.

Margaret Simon is our host today at www.ethicalela.com, inviting us to write etymology poems, or definito poems.  I chose the word Quirky for today, since I will be the host tomorrow for Quirky poems.  

Meet Quirky 

Quirky was born in 1873

to the adjective family tree,

wrapped upside-down in

a blanket different from all the rest.

peculiar, off-beat, bizarre

eccentric, outlandish and

strange in an oddly appealing way,

in the same year in the 

word hospital as bumfuzzled,

capisce, and wordsmith.  

So wear the mismatched socks.

March to your own beat. Be quirky!

1 Peter 4:10-11

As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies—in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.

Day 9 of 30 of National Poetry Month at #VerseLove

Dixie Keyes inspires writers to write bird poems today at http://www.ethicalela.com in celebration of National Poetry Month during VerseLove.

Uber Owl

The Great Horned Owl 

was an Uber horn in my dream,

the real sound from the 

front yard woods

whooo whooo whooo who whoing

in my sleep 

to hurry me along. 

I woke up, heard the flurry 

of feathered friends 

kicking up a 

cacophonous fuss

and fumbled for my shoes

and phone,

ran out onto the porch

in my pajamas and robe.

Great Horned Owl

was having it out

with a wild turkey

using fowl language

as the songbirds 

chattered with joy 

ignoring the dispute,

greeting the new day

with no rebuttals.

Isaiah 34:15 ESV

There the owl nests and lays and hatches and gathers her young in her shadow; indeed, there the hawks are gathered, each one with her mate.

 

Day 8 of 30

Scott McCloskey is our host today at VerseLove at www.ethicalela.com.  He inspired us to write Tell Me Without Telling Me poems.  So let me tell you…..

blue cardboard Chewy 

box arrives on time, monthly

grain-free, forty pounds

bully sticks, squeak toys

coordinating outfits

and one slicker brush

{tell me you’re a hopelessly over-the-top dog mom…….}

John 8:32 

And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

A huge thank you to Margaret Simon at Reflections on the Teche for the Progressive Poem. Track it here

Yesterday’s line : “Come with me, and you’ll be in a land of pure imagination” 

I’m adding this line today: ( from Maybe by Kobi Yamada)

Wherever you go, take your hopes, pack your dreams, and never forget – it is on our journeys that discoveries are made.

Day 7 of 30

Chris Goering, songwriter from Arkansas, inspires us to write songs of our origins today at http://www.ethicalela.com as part of VerseLove! For my poem, I consulted my 23 and Me Report to see where in the world I came from.  Since I was born in Georgia, I changed the lyrics of Georgia on my Mind to reflect my DNA Report.  Now I understand the constant pull to travel and see parts of Europe. My roots are calling. With a nod to the one and only Ray Charles……

Europe On My Mind

London, Dublin

The whole strand through (the whole strand through)

23 and Me

Keeps Europe on my mind (Europe on my mind)

I sing now Ireland, Grandma

Your red hair explained (image of you)

Comes as understood

As Celtic knots of strength

Family roots extend to me

Tree leaf traits wave tenderly

In cradled branch of oak I see

My heart beats back to you

Oh Scandinavia! Germany, France, too….

Footprints I feel (footprints I feel)

Now I understand, too

Why travel’s on my mind (travel’s on my mind)

Family roots extend to me

Tree leaf traits wave tenderly

In cradled branch of oak I see

My heart beats back to you

Woah, Europe, Europe

Footprints I feel (footprints I feel)

Now I understand, too

Why travel’s on my mind (travel’s on my mind)

23 and Me

Keeps Europe on my mind (Europe on my mind)

Genesis 9:19

These three were the sons of Noah, and from these the whole earth was populated.

Listen to Georgia On My Mind Here

Day 6 of 30 of VerseLove (my April theme is Poems)

Mo Daley of Michigan is our host today for National Poetry Month in #VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com. She inspires us to write a Cherita with these words:

The cherita was created in 1997 by UK poet ai li as a tribute to her storytelling grandparents. In Malay, cherita means “story” or “tale.” The form consists of three stanzas- one line in the first, two in the second, and three in the third. You may link your cheritas if you wish. The poem is simply designed to tell a story. So I wrote one, entitled Oomph!

An oomph! at 3,446 feet can’t be good.

Atop Black Rock Mountain, I heard her –

She’d fumbled her phone.

But did I stop recording?

Heck, no!

I laughed – and we haven’t stopped since. 

Psalm 126:2 

Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; then they said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.”

Denise Krebs of California is our host today for National Poetry Month in #VerseLove (my theme for April is Poems). She inspires us to write a 4 x 4 today. The 4 x 4 with its repeating line is one that I will add to my more frequent writing. It has four stanzas of four lines with four syllables in each, and the refrain moves in each stanza from position 1 to 2 to 3 to 4.

Traveling Shoes

traveling shoes
adventuring
hippie spirit
wandering soul

journeyer’s heart
traveling shoes
climbing mountains
rapt in wonder

mailing postcards
taking photos
traveling shoes
soaking it in

living each day
finding my way
forging new paths
traveling shoes

Ephesians 6:15

And, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace.

Day 4 of 30 of National Poetry Month #VerseLove

Jennifer Guyor Jowett is our host today at wee.ethicalela.com for VerseLove. She inspires writers to use burrowing seeds from other poems to inspire an original poem. I have taken a line from Jennifer Jowett’s poem and one from my writing group buddy Kevin’s this morning to inspire my writing as I sit just feet from the two rooms at the Grove Park Inn where F. Scott Fitzgerald summered as a place of respite as he wrote The Great Gatsby. Fran Haley, another of my writing friends, has a photograph of her sitting in his room at his desk. Oh, how I would love that experience. I strolled Gibbs Gardens in Ball Ground, Georgia yesterday and was inspired by Jennifer’s line Turn Seed to Stem, and write this morning hoping F’s fingers are ghostly guides of mine this morning with Kevin’s lines Keep watch for dust, falling in flight as I keep peeking for orbs or shadows of F.

Keeping Watch for F

Turn seed to stem 
Bees buzz on a whim

Tulips yellow, tulips red
Tulips tucked in loamy beds

Daffodils yellow, orange, white
Grove Park Inn on moonlit night

Drinking mules by stone fireplace
Kicking back, vacation pace

Across the hall from Fitzgerald’s room
Gatsby ghosts in  Grand Ballroom

Thoughts when scattered germinate
Writing fingers celebrate

Turn seed to stem, touch his door
Write the morning on F’s floor

Keep watch for dust, falling in flight
And ghosts in hallways, orbs of light

Are his fingers guiding mine?
These sacred moments – – so divine!

Psalm 139:4 

Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.