Today, Jennifer Jowett of Michigan is our host at http://www.ethicalela.com for our fourth day of #VerseLove 2024. She offers a spectacular Alphabeticals prompt, using letters of the alphabet to create a poem. You can read her full prompt and the poems of others here.
My mind went straight to the farm as I looked at the letters on the keyboard. There’s a whole world of things to see if you let your eyes see what is held in each letter. Donkeys belonging to someone in our area keep getting loose, and my sister in law and I helped some other neighbors for two hours on Tuesday trying to trailer them, finally herding them into another neighbor’s fenced pasture. When they turned up in her yard again Wednesday, we decided to just make friends with them – they’re not halter trained, and we think they are lonely and seeking the companionship of humans.
They know they’ve found folks who are friendly. They’d rather live here on the Funny Farm, where things are amusingly quirky.
RELAXing on the Funny Farm
R hangs out in the barn, his back against the wall relaxing cowboy
E stalls two horses or goats or donkeys or mules safe from elements
L stands firm, holds reins hitching post for keeping us right where we belong
A swing for sweethearts porch side sunset views, sweet tea two-strawed Mason jar
Today’s host of #VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com is Wendy Everard of New York, who inspires us to research our favorite writers’ places and our own favorites, and to write a poem inspired by that place. She wrote her poem as she walked around Emily Dickinson’s home and gardens.
Bryan Ripley Crandall of Connecticut has quite a Magic Box process of turning out nonsense, whimsical poems that make us smile. You can read his full prompt along with the process (this one is loads of fun) and the poems of others here.
Just let words roll off the pen and see what pops up!
Turning the Tables
vintage green stamps in rose-hued sunglasses sewing thimble, dogtag, thumbs of young lasses Cracker Jack prizes trinkets and toys but pencils for scholarly girls and boys crocheted tablecloth clamps stitched by all our Aunt Mabels clothespinned lottery tickets turn all the tables
Today, I’m hosting the kickoff of #VerseLove 2024 at http://www.ethicalela.com, the website and writing community of Dr. Sarah J. Donovan of Oklahoma State University. Each day this month, we will be writing poetry together as we rotate hosting, celebrate writing together, and encourage one another. You can read the entire prompt below, but you can also read it (and the poetry of others) here.
Inspiration
I enjoy unlocking the puzzles of smashed-together-word hashtags and considering their power to make a statement. Like clever license plates and bumper stickers, hashtags can issue a call to action, proclaim characteristics, and identify members of a group. Today, let’s use them to introduce ourselves as we begin our #VerseLove journey together this month.
Process
Write your name vertically down the left side of a page. You can use your first name, nickname, or full name – your choice!
Place a hashtag in front of each letter of your name.
Jot a list of your hobbies, your passions, and any other aspects that you might use to introduce yourself to someone getting to know you. You can scroll through photos, Facebook posts, or poems you’ve written to help you think of some ideas.
Finally, use the letters to make a hashtag acrostic to introduce yourself to your #VerseLove family! You can #smashyourwordstogether or #space them apart.
We are your people. We can’t wait to get to know you better as we write and grow together.
I’m the last to the party, crawling up to the word buffet, invitation in hand from Leigh Anne Eck in case this is one of those exclusive shindigs where they ask for ID.
And they might. I’m dragging a leg, my shoes don’t match, my jeans have holes not bought that way, and my hair’s a bedheaded mess. I look like I belong on the set of the Thriller video, and it’s Easter Sunday. It’s way early, we’re half-packed in the camper, and we might be headed out to find a Sunrise service on the lake beach of Callaway Gardens.
But first, coffee. And second, an invitation to continue the writing journey at http://www.ethicalela.com beginning tomorrow, where we will write poetry together each day thoughout April during #VerseLove as we celebrate National Poetry Month. If you’re part of the Slice of Life group, you’ve written for 31 days. You can make it to 61 – just say YES! That’s how I became a daily writer 3 years ago this past February. I’ll be your host tomorrow as we introduce ourselves, and others in this group will be hosting a day on the journey as well. Consider this your personal invitation to the next party.
And third – the buffet of words. Here are my words and expressions, countdown style:
5. tentative consonants (shh-, spp-, smm-)- this is a word combination my eyes didn’t want to leave in Georgia Poet Laureate Chelsea Rathburn‘s poem Returning to My Childhood Library coming out in her new book, defined in her poem as “the soft sounds of someone learning to read.”
4. hush – this word comes from the tipping point poem for me, the one that catapulted a love of poetry to an absolute fixation on it, where the nymph silences the goblin wanting her green glass beads in Overheard on a Salt Marsh by Harold Monro from Volume 1 Poems and Rhymes, the Childcraft volume with the pink spine band.
3. ceaselessly– my One Little Word for 2023 and 2024 is Pray. This is how we should pray. And also, it’s part of Gatsby’s last words: So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. F. Scott Fitzgerald, party animal as he was, is where our dog Fitz (a true transcendental – not a party dog – who came to us with the more fitting name of Henry) got his new name.
2. Tell me – because it’s how Mary Oliver started her (probably) most famous line of all time from her poem The Summer Day. There is a beckoning to know, to tell a tale, to listen as someone shares a plan. “Tell me, what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?” And it’s why our dog Ollie is named Ollie. It’s at the heart of why we rescue – so we can give our dogs a family and a hope for their one wild and precious life. Ollie eats poetry books – his favorite is anything by Ada Limon. I suspect that what led us to rescue this little dog was divine intervention – I truly believe that he is the reincarnate of one of Mary O’s own little rescues named Percy, for whom she seemed particularly partial in the Oliverist possible way.
1, Hey, Boo! – my cryingest scene in To Kill a Mockingbird, that tender moment when Boo is behind the door…..and Scout (I can’t….I can’t…..I’ll get weepy and I won’t stop)……these are the words that named our dog (abandoned by his previous family, left behind a door, rescued by us) Boo Radley. Boo, who is as white as a ghost and rivals the most damaged of little dogs, who we know without a doubt, despite all of his own random and quirky fears, would pounce on anyone who tried to hurt us if we were dressed as a ham out trick or treating.
Happy Easter, everyone! Hope to see you each day in April and on Tuesdays all year long!
Daily Writers
last day of slicing leads to first day of #VerseLove daily writers born
we, in one accord listened ~ hung on every word our hungry hearts heard
Thursday night’s reading of Awakenings by Clayton Moon in our local coffee shop on the town square to kick off our town’s celebration of National Poetry Month was a heartwarming cross-section of intergenerational bridging that nothing but poetry can build. From teenagers to young adults to middle-agers to seniors, we were all listening in one accord as we hung on every word.
Before I welcomed Clayton to the microphone, I shared the impact of a writing community not only in the writing, but in the day to day living – the motivation to learn new things, to try new things, to notice new things. I shared with those who’d come that I would be sharing poems written by living poets from across the United States during the month of April. I began by sharing a definition poem illuminating our theme of awakenings, written by our friend Fran Haley of North Carolina. I shared each canvas, one at a time, describing how they would hang ladder-style in the window of the Chamber of Commerce with eye hooks and chain once the display was complete. #4 brought smiles, the kind I could tell were deep from within, the knowing satisfaction of a feeling.
Here are some photos of the kickoff event for our town’s poetry celebration.
Definition poem by Fran Haley
Clayton “Boxer” Moon reads from his book Awakenings
Clayton, who goes by Boxer for most of us who know him, shared his book, written from the awakening to the brewing of the coffee to the first cup, the second cup, the third cup, and the dregs. His featured poem, The Heart of Nahoo, offered a tribute to retired educator Dr. Dan Dunnahoo, who was our county’s long-time art teacher and who now is the president of the Pike County Arts Council and who restored the coffee shop and preserved its history right down to saving each nail and floorboard.
Boxer’s books and Sarah’s art – they collaborate on father/daughter books that he writes and she illustrates
Boxer reads to the crowd
Boxer (L), Dr. Dan Dunnahoo (C), and Sarah (R) stand with an excerpt of Boxer’s tribute poem for Dan.
Three people who didn’t know each other an hour ago write poetry together – this is why we need more of it!
This young lady wrote a Cento poem in a short time – she used the poetry kiosk sticks and wrote hers in colorful letters.
One of our town’s short story writers came out to support poetry writing and hear Clayton read.
Our town’s Magistrate Judge talks with Sarah and Melinda Moon, Clayton’s wife and daughter
Ethan Jacobs’ Cento Poem on a magnetic poetry kiosk
Ethan was our poet for our February event. He shared from is recently published book Dust. I also wanted to share a couple of photos from his event. We’re blessed to live in a town where authors, poets, and artists stand ready to share their talents with us!
Ethan Jacobs was our reader from February, and this is a photo from his Leap Day event.
Ethan Jacobs read from his book Dust on Leap Day in our coffee shop.
Come visit us in Georgia, have coffee, and read and write with us!
We celebrate our 16th wedding anniversary today. For a couple of divorcees who found each other a little later in life and had given up on ever marrying again, we realize now that when God winks on love, it’s a dream come true.
There we were, on a swing in a park, where he proposed while wearing a royal blue button-down shirt. There just happened to be a royal blue car driving by with a teenage kid cheering and fist pumping out the window as the love of my life was down on a knee asking for my hand (is there any wonder that I drive a bright blue Caribbean colored RAV4, even though my personality is more of a muted silver or pearly white?).
I think back to that day, on that swing, and count the joys.
A photo of our swing in the reading room of our home
Marriage Proposal Haiku
a swing proposal with a smashed Cracker Jack ring you'd resurrected
and still I said yes with a yes-er yes because you'd fixed the broken
If you’ve never rolled a set of Taylor Mali’s Metaphor Dice, take note: they’re one of the best ways to make poetry accessible for reluctant writers. The red dice are nouns (conceptual, most), white are adjectives, and blue are nouns that represent the direct comparison to the red dice. I rolled the dice:
Naysay Nonet
the truth is a back-handed mirror because once you say to someone to prove your argument's point that they should have called you you can't turn around and not have called them when you should have called
My son (r) with hunting face camo, and his buddy (l)
My middle child of my gas station Octane Trio, the one born in 1989, turns 35 today. He loves hunting, fishing, Nascar racing, and spending time with his family of 7, plus 3 labs. I’m proud of him – he makes good choices, and I was even fine with that mullet he had going on for a couple of years. He and his good buddy recently sent me the photo above, smiling and proud of the tickets they’d gotten for not having the proper number of life vests in their boat while they were out duck hunting (turns out they were warnings – which explains the smiles).
I asked him what he wanted for his birthday, and our conversation went something like this:
Screenshot
This got his attention. He knew I’d find a book about how salt marsh species cooperate to survive the harsh conditions of the marsh. I learned it throwing quadrants in the marsh when I took marine biology at University of South Carolina, where he also graduated years later. Spartina marsh grass survives in extreme salty conditions because the periwinkle shells attached to the base thrive on salt and take it in. In this way, both species can survive.
There is a story there for another time, but I guess he didn’t want to learn more about the marshgrass in his back yard. He replied, thoughtfully, moments later:
Screenshot
Since I haven’t physically seen him since Christmas and know my own battles with quick weight change, I asked about the size. I decided on the medium, but wanted him to know to be on the lookout for the gifts since sometimes with prankster kids (who learned it from him), a box might disappear off the front porch before anyone knew it was ever there. I put him on alert:
Screenshot
I am so proud of my son and wish him the happiest birthday ever. His family loves him too!
Screenshot
Birthday Surprise Haiku
he's getting a shirt and a camouflaged fan cap but not a surprise.
I was three minutes late to work one day last week because I was chasing the sunrise. If you’ve ever been on the backside of nowhere in the rural Georgia countryside between 7:45 and 8:00 just after the time springs forward, you’ve seen it: the most gorgeous glowing coral red sunrise ever, so rich and fiery it could be an over-easy orange yolk of a just-laid Buff Orpington egg, the kind still warm upon cracking into the pan, the kind that mesmerizes folks who’ve never seen a yolk so unhormonally free-ranging fresh, that didn’t come from a carton in a store.
Sometimes that egg yolk sun’ll be right in front of you, as it is when it’s waiting for me like a dog who wants to play chase, right at the end of my eastside driveway first thing in the morning on my way to work. Then, it’s like I’ve tossed it a stick. It takes off to the left when I turn south, then stays left when I head back east, only a little lefter than before. At the stop sign, it’s still left, just not as behindish, and then when I turn back to the south right before I turn back east again, I’m approaching what I know is THE MOST beautiful sunrise ribbon of roadway in the entire county and maybe all of Georgia, maybe even all of the southeastern United States or the world or the universe.
And sometimes I slow waaaaaaay down just to take it all in, if there’s nobody behind me.
Common Threads 