Fitz wants proof
the bagel is
really truly gone
climbs on chairs
stands on tables
wants the evidence
it’s all gone ~
hops back down
food dreams deferred
Fitz Checks Plates: A Tricube Poem
Flat Ollie: A Skinny Poem
Have you ever seen a dog that can flatten himself right into a chair, a bed, or the floor? If our Ollie were a poem, he’d be a skinny poem. He could win an upside-down limbo contest and beat a snake at it.
he flattens out
Ollie
rescued
schnoodle
skinny
Ollie
abandoned
neglected
adopted
Ollie
he flattens out
Taken from The Skinny Poetry Nation blog: The “Skinny” is a short poem form that consists of eleven lines. The first and eleventh lines can be any length (although shorter lines are favored). The eleventh and last line must be repeated using the same words from the first and opening line (however, they can be rearranged). The second, sixth, and tenth lines must be identical. All the lines in this form, except for the first and last lines, must be comprised of ONLY one word. The Skinny was created by Truth Thomas in theTony Medina Poetry Workshop at Howard University.
Fitz
My soul schnoodle, Fitz, has CUPS Disease. I suppose that’s kind of redundant – a syndrome with a disease. It’s Canine Ulcerative Periodontal Syndrome, and I can’t imagine the pain of chronic mouth ulcers. He lives on the fringes of household activity, preferring to spend his days under the bed or in a chair facing away from everyone. We have to give him Magic Mouthwash with Lidocaine to numb the pain. I can’t bear to lose him, and I can’t bear to see him suffer. We’re considering surgical options, and while we want all of the teeth removed at once, it’s not standard practice to do that. They do this in waves that cost about $2,000 per wave and cannot say how many surgeries will be needed. We’ve already had one a few years back, but the syndrome is progressing quickly.
Why, oh why has my sweet little rescue Fitz been dealt such a rough hand in life? Broken leg, barely saved…..cysts…..and CUPS disease. I’m starting to cry the tears, realizing that this dreaded day may be coming sooner than I am able to prepare myself.
my heart breaks for my
sweet boy who has CUPS Disease
he’s on the countdown……
Boo Radley (Boo Badly)
We live in the middle of a forest. These massive pine trees surround our home on all sides and shelter us deep in the woods, basically cut off from any form of civilization. We have to get dressed and venture into society to see other living, breathing human souls. What used to be a fully operating cattle farm has been, little by little over the years, turned from cow pasture to pine tree farm – which is why, when I tell my work friends that I must go home and walk the dogs sometimes at lunch, I am met with blank stares. They don’t understand that when I say I live on the Johnson Funny Farm, this basically translates to the Johnson Wayward Wildlife Jungle.
We never know what we’re going to see, and we can’t take risks that our pack of house Schnoodles won’t go chasing anything that moves. Two of the three must be on leashes at all times.
Except Boo Radley~
his dad gives him a leash pass
(doesn’t see the need)
He saw it last night, for the second time in two weeks.
I’d just gone to bed and gotten settled to try to figure out Wordle at the end of a long day that included a two-hour extension to help with registration at our high school when I heard my husband frantically yelling Boo’s name. I sprang up, careful not to slip down on the wood floors after just putting the magnesium cream on my feet to help me sleep better, making it to the closet to get my slippers. I knew instinctively this would require entry into the thicket.
Sure enough, Boo Radley had taken off and was marking territory at the bottom of a pine tree, where once again he’d treed a coon. This happened for the first time less than two weeks ago, but here we were again, another (or maybe the same) frightened raccoon staring down into the high beam of our flashlight, wondering what kind of dogs we are raising in this house.
He gets proud of himself and tries to sport the Alpha Dog swagger after a thing like this, but it’s all lies. He is not the alpha anymore, and he knows it deep inside. He’s just obnoxious.
Take this morning, for example. I’m generally the first one up, and so I take the boys out around 5:00. They usually go right off the edge of the walkway and do their morning business, and it takes less than two minutes………until Boo decides to go over by the gardenia bush and gets wrapped around the birdbath and pulls it over, completely full, right at my feet. I was grateful it was not the block of ice it was two weeks ago.
Still, I laugh at the comedy of it all. We’ve often wondered why Boo was abandoned, needing rescue in his younger years. He isn’t an easy dog by any means…….but we love him, and if it weren’t for him and his brothers and all the wayward wildlife critters who wander up and want to be a part of life here, we wouldn’t be able to call it the Johnson Funny Farm.
You gotta be a little sideways to end up here.
Next Steps Nonet
today we take the next steps toward
building our barndominium
it’s all part of the process
in our retirement plan ~
simplify, downsize,
anticipate
ease in days
ahead
now
Odd Text Day
she began early
random odd texts
throughout her day
photos of soap
rainbow sherbet dreams
mushroom coffee moments
just a prank
to bring smiles
and endless laughter
My daughter sent me a reel earlier this week with some girl on Instagram saying that she was going to send her brother random boring, senseless updates by text the following day – things no one would care about, really. So my older daughter decided to do the same for her own brother. That’s what happened today. I woke to photos of the random texts and spent a day with the best medicine – – laughter!
She has her next “victim” in sight, and I can’t wait!
The Silver Lining
during the coming reign, a friend says
she’ll turn off all news and stay in
and read more books than ever
and snuggle with her dogs
and I understand ~
I think she’s found
the silver
lining
here
**I’ll be reading with my book club (we met tonight at our local coffee shop on the town square to discuss The Beautiful and the Wild by Peggy Townsend) and sharing Goodreads reviews with my one of my daughters as we continue in the tradition of reading ever since she was little. Somewhere in all the buzz happening around us, there is a portal to another world in the pages of great books.
Schnoodle Shenanigans Nonet
Our three schnoodles have their morning rituals down. They are as predictable and relentless as the wrens building nests in our garage. Same games, same antics every morning and afternoon- and we play along because things were not always this way. It took effort and patience to build the trust and happiness from the trauma of life before rescue, and we are the ones these boys depend on to keep them from starving and being abandoned again. We are not their first rodeo. But we are their first and last loving family – even if we have to convince them that they are all a little bit badass as we anthropomorphize their every move and talk for them in their own special voices. Finally, they are seen and heard. And loved.
one is viciously tempting dad’s play
(tug of war with his posh blanket)
two is cussing shameful threats
at the deer just outside
three nose-nudges ball
to Dad to throw
down the hall ~
{morning
games}!
January Open Write Day 4 with Erica Johnson of Arkansas
Erica writes, “Today’s poem was inspired by the poem “Nest” by Jeffrey Harrison. I loved the surprise discovery revealed in the poem and how the poet marvels over this small miracle that they discovered while putting up their Christmas tree. It made me want to explore my own little discoveries and what they revealed about myself or the world around me.”
You can read Erica’s full prompt and poem here, but here is her process if you’d like to use it to write a poem of your own today:
Stanza 1 – The initial discovery. I followed the structure of Harrison’s poem using the words “It wasn’t until…that ___ discovered…”
Stanza 2 – The feeling or reaction to that discovery. I asked myself the question “What ABOUT this discovery sticks with me?”
Stanza 3 – Start with the phrase “And now…”, how are your feelings/reflection on this discovery evolving?
Stanza 4 – Start with the phrase “And yet…”, what contrast or contradiction comes to play as you continue to reflect on your discovery?
Stanza 5 – Wrap up your poem with a final take away moment.
Scrap Paper Love Note
it wasn’t until
I came to make my coffee
that I found his note ~ ~ ~
amazing, cherished
sentiment on a receipt ~ ~ ~
scrap-paper surprise
and now my heart warms
like steam from my Snoopy mug ~ ~ ~
love wafting outward
and yet he is gone
driving to Alabama
me, spooning honey ~ ~
and adding creamer~ ~
swirling joy, blending heartbeats
across the state line
January Open Write Day 3 with Glenda Funk of Idaho
Today at http://www.ethicalela.com, our host is Glenda Funk of Idaho, who inspires us to write poems about embarrassing times in our lives. You can read her full prompt and the poems of others here. (I predict this will be a great day to step in for a visit).
50 Shades of Red
back in the day
before adhesive strips
held pads in place
there were other ways ~
namely, the Beltx Santy Panty
(now in the National Museum of American History)
Luxury Spandex
cool, comfortable
with Sta-Put Crotch
to eliminate all loops and clasps
unconditionally guaranteed
for those
monthly “off days”
let me tell you something
lean in and listen up ~
my first “off day” still haunts me
gives me shivers
it happened in the St. Simons Drugstore
in the village
in 1977 when I was 11, shortly
after reading Are You There, God?
It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
this was not the way it was
supposed to go down
my mother took me in
to find products
the very day I crossed the
threshold into womanhood
she sought a treasure
promising
* nary a telltale budge
* never a slip
* not a whisper of odor
as she quietly perused the shelves
in the crowded store
I’d ducked to the makeup aisle
many shades of red on the shelves
all around me ~ lipstick, blush, nail polish ~
and I, too, was now red all over
above and below my waist
the most embarrassing day of my life
and Griffin from my class
was there with his mother, too,
waiting on his medicine
when to my absolute horror
my mother caught sight of
the pharmacist
busy at work
while Griffin and his mother
and the rest of the crowd
stood watching, waiting
their names to be called
my own mother boldly stepped forward
inquiring for all to hear
making no secret of any of this
Do you have any of those
Santy Panty things?
My mother.
My mother.
My mother.
All eyes moved from
the pharmacist
to her
to me.
I cringed.
I saw Griffin giggle.
I bled out most of my soul
that day in the drugstore
as my mother handed me
a bag with three boxes of
Santy Panty things,
explaining for all to hear
that they were to be washed
by hand in the sink
as Griffin turned
red with full laughter
as we exited the store
Common Threads 