The Truth Teller – The Stafford Challenge Day 31

Today’s poem is a free verse poem.

Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko on Pexels.com
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

How to Explain Deodorant Application to a Reeking Hater – Stafford Challenge Day 30 – Double Haiku

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There’s No Mask For That

you can’t mask the stench

of hatred that denies a

death with dignity

for her own mother

elder abuse: narcissist

smiling cruelly

About four years ago, I had an ironic conversation about deodorant with a hater, a year before I witnessed the full extent of her putrid stench. 

She’d heard I was using aluminum-free deodorant, and so this one who’d bragged for years about her own natural childbirth without any medicines whatsoever and had made the same autocratic decision to withhold all medicines from her mother so she could allow her to die a full-pain cancer death like there’s some sort of trophy for that, struck up a conversation with me.

“So you use natural deodorant,” she informed me, gossip-style, as if I didn’t already know this about myself. I’d only mentioned this to a few friends, so I knew the source of her information immediately. I’d made the switch after a mutual friend was diagnosed with breast cancer.

“I do,” I nodded.

“What kind?” she asked.

“Native.”I’d tried most all the popular brands, but I wasn’t sharing my research.

“Do you like it?”

“I do.” I was keeping my answers short, since conversations with her were awkward and generally nothing but her attempt to gain some kind of ammunition or put someone down.

She looked lost on what to ask next, and I’ll never know what prompted her to take the direction she did, but I’ve wished a thousand times I could go back to that moment and answer her next question a different way.

“So how do you put it on, is it like just maybe three pulls?” This fifty-ish year old woman seemed genuinely confused, as if she’d never used deodorant a day in her life. I wasn’t sure whether to offer to demonstrate how to apply deodorant to the armpits or settle into my suspicion that she ain’t never been quite right, or both. So I settled for her proof of truth.

What I said was “Yes.” And this ended her interrogation..

What I wished I’d said was, “Actually, it’s a little more complicated than your Sure or your Secret or whatever you already use that isn’t working anyway. What you have to do to figure out the number of natural deodorant pulls is first determine the surface area of the solid that actually makes contact with the pit. Then, you use calculus to account for the slope of the solid at the edges if it’s curved, and also take into account whether you are applying it to recently shaved pits, pits shaved two or three days ago, or no-shave Novemberish pits because the hairs actually will hold odor, and they need an extra pull if they’re more than a middle fingernail long. Once you have the surface area of the deodorant calculated, next you need to determine the surface area of your actual pits, using your current clothing size, multiplied by the centimeters squared of the area needing application, and then take the hypotenuse of the cup size of your bra and divide it by the exponent of the pit area. Multiply this by the number of ounces in the deodorant container, and then take the square root of the deodorant’s surface area, multiply it by two for two pits, or (but not and) then divide it in half to account for one pit, and that should give you the number of pulls to apply. It varies by individual.” 

I wish I’d blinked hard and cocked my chin to see if she could even do that kind of math.

Buttons Acrostic – Stafford Challenge Day 29

Happy Valentine’s Day!

I was cleaning out a tub of sewing notions when my eyes were drawn to a trio of heart-shaped buttons that cost 70 cents a long time ago. My mother, a master seamstress, always had an ample supply of colors of threads, buttons, and laces for her next project. She made us matching dresses and taught me to sew when I was in elementary school, even though I never graduated to zippers, braking to a hard and fast stop at buttons. Today’s acrostic poem was inspired by these heart-shaped buttons, which I believe may have been destined to be sewn onto a Valentine’s Day top for me. Mom would have been 81 next week, and she still lives on in our memories.

Actual old buttons from my mother and grandmother’s age-spotted collection of notions

I Love Buttons

Because I wonder what
Unfinished dress, never-
Touched pattern, fabric-
To-be-imagined
Outfit
Never quite got
Sewn........

Gratitude for Felix – Stafford Challenge Day 27

Tomorrow is my father’s birthday, and he’ll be celebrating eight decades of this journey. He loves his Schnoodle, Kona, and takes her to the dog park so that she can socialize with her friends while he socializes with his. Here he is, in the spirit of Valentine’s Day red, talking over the big dog/little dog fence to a fellow canine enthusiast. 

Happy Birthday, Felix! 

Father's birthday tomorrow, so
Everyone join me in wishing Felix a
Lovely day
In all his favorite
Xenial dog park conversations!

Purging – The Stafford Challenge Day 26

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Today’s poem for The Stafford Challenge is a rondine, a 12-line poem with two stanzas – seven lines in the first stanza, and five in the second. It does not have to have rhyme scheme, and the first word becomes the only word on lines 7 and 12. Each line has 8-10 syllables in all other lines.

Purging

purging baggage collected through the years
notebooks, dishes, clothing, books, heirlooms
so I don't end up with a pile of things
anchoring my mind and body
holding onto stuff without purpose
holding valuables hostage
purging

because nothingness wins: less IS more
more life, more time, more freedom to live
more present, less past, more future
releasing is therapeutic
purging

Dangerous Readers – Stafford Challenge Day 24

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Today’s poem is a nonet, a nine-line poem in descending or ascending same-line-number-as-syllable order. This one is inspired by a fraud.


#thesmartestoneintheroom

don't read enough to be dangerous
read enough to have influence ~
there is a marked difference
between coercion and
living example
that defines fraud
for all those
who read
deep

Bad Boys – Stafford Challenge Day 23

Today’s poem is a nonet, a nine-line poem in ascending or descending order with syllable numbers representing each ordered line. My son’s recent hunting experience inspired this poem. 

Actual photo of the bad boys. #camouflagedgoodboys
Bad Boys 

two lifelong friends got warning tickets
from the game warden, duck hunting
without the proper life vests
then....held up their tickets
smiled while their buddy
snapped a photo
to send their
moms. THEY
BAD!

Four Chaplains Roundel Poem – Stafford Challenge Day 21

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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