Mo Daley is our host at ethicalela.com today for the first day of our July Open Write. Two things came to mind when I read her poem, in addition to all the memories of previous generations’ masks: the poem A Bag of Tools by R. L. Sharpe (a favorite since high school), and a birdwatching excursion in Palo Duro Canyon State Park in Texas over the summer, as I sat behind a bird blind counting birds. I chose a Golden Shovel poem using one line of Sharpe’s poem today.
Blinders
behind the bird blind, watching unaware, counting each
species, observing, admiring, appreciating, pondering: is
this what would happen if people were given
the same fanfare over the wonder of our beauty? a
way to admire all our brilliant feathers, to regain childhood’s shapeless
notions of race, share the same branch, and remove the mask?
Angie Braaten is our host at http://www.ethicalela.com today for the final day of this month’s Open Write. She encourages us to write a poem about what we would like to be when we grow up. You can read her full prompt here.
Secret Badge
when I grow up I want to be a traveling food critic a descriptive writer of all things edible…. ….(or not)….. all expenses paid to go out into the world and live it up like a spy on a secret mission with an official foodie badge that I keep covered until the end of the meal…. ….(or forever)…… unless I want immediate preferential seating or my glass runs dry or I get bad service then I whip it out like some veiled threat of a viral review that might shut the place down ….(or something)……
oh and a hotel critic too I want to be one who jumps on beds to test the comfort rolls around in the sheets and fills the bathtub to overflowing with expensive bubble bath with little flecks of real gold dust and eats all the snacks that cost twelve dollars each for free in those presidential suites with corner windows on the top floor one who shows my badge at checkout
and I want an airplane badge, too so I can cut the line at security and go in my own private room where the rest of everyone all tired-legged and eyeing my complimentary plate of sugared grapes and chocolates whispers who is she?? but I play it cool never revealing my name like no one can know who I am a secret traveling critic as I take my seat in first class throw my feet up on the plush footrest whip out my review computer and write away into the clouds ….(or just dream about it all)….
then go home to the country and press wildflowers and read poetry and bask in full-face dog kisses with whole-body tail wags because I’m back where I belong …..(without a badge)…….
Today’s host for the Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com is Angie Braaten, who inspires us to write On Turning….poems, modeling verse about a particular age after Billy Collins’ On Turning Ten, and then to take it a step further by trying to connect form choice to the foused age. I chose a nonet since I chose to write about turning nine. You can read her full prompt here.
Dr. Leilya Pitre of Ponchatoula, Louisiana is our host for today’s Open Write. She brings us a short form, the sevenling, which you can read about here.
Foxgloves at Gibbs Gardens in Ball Ground, Georgia
Foxglove Funeral for a Grandson
Foxglove bells chime joy, bring smiles on Mother’s Day in Georgia, painting gardens in blush colors: the female womb blooms
Foxglove bells toll grief, stir longing on Mother’s Day in Kentucky: a petal flips, a cradle rocks in heaven ~ the female soul cries
empty arms mourning a baby not born
Foxglove in Kentucky, symbolizing a baby in heaven
Jennifer Jowett of Michigan hosts today’s Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com and offers us a compelling prompt about the future of our world today. Her prompt is one we dance along the periphery of in so many of our countryside drive discussions, wondering about the future of our county, heartsick over each new development, each new killing of droves of trees that were once home to birds, deer, foxes, squirrels, bees, chipmunks, raccoons, opossums…..it breaks my heart for the wildlife and for the future of our grandchildren.
Just some of my writing friends, NCTE, Anaheim, CA November 2023
Today’s host at the Open Write is Jessica from Arkansas, who inspires us to write about our friends using borrowed lines from friendship songs. You can read her full prompt here.
I can’t think of a better way to kick off any month than celebrating friendship. Jessica’s invitation to search songs was just what my heart needed this morning, and for me, no one touches my heart like The Divine Miss M. Here’s to all of my friends who are writers – all of you, using a line or two from Wind Beneath My Wings
A Haiku for YOU
you, fellow writer, are the wind beneath my wings cheers to friends with pens!
did I ever tell (forgive me if I haven’t) you, you’re my hero?
Our host today for the last day of the February 2023 Open Write is Stacey Joy, who inspires us to write etheree poems. You can read her prompt and poem here, along with others, and add your own if you wish. I’m traveling through three Southeastern states this week, and I have always found hotels to be some of the best places to write. Until now.
Upstairs
strong
coffee
hot showers
comfortable
bedding, firm pillows
large-screen television
whispery-gray painted walls
white down comforters on the beds
clean desk and chair with working wi-fi
hotel rooms are THE BEST places to write
Fitzgerald wrote books at The Grove Park Inn
Truman Capote at The Plaza
eliminating distractions?
any Hampton Inn will do…..
….unless there’s a toddler
crying all night long
jumping non-stop
on the floor
above
you
Britt Decker, our host at www.ethicalela.com today for the Open Write, shares a prompt that proves that we walk by thousands of writing opportunities everyday. We walk in them, past them, heck – we wear them! She shows us how to take a t-shirt from our closet with words, a picture, or a memory that will inspire poetry. It's as simple as going to the closet and considering all the possibilities. I love how her t-shirts inspire a poem about her own need of distance between work and play. Read the prompt here, and consider writing with us. I bought a t-shirt at the NCTE conference in Anaheim, California last November with a message I enjoy sharing – your story matters. My poem is a 3x5 today - short and simple like an index card - three lines, five syllables.
Your Story Matters
you’re a child in God’s
great universe so
your story matters
Today is the third day of five days of January’s Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com. Each month, this writing group gathers to write and give positive feedback to at least three other writers. Please join us! Here is the direct link, where you can read about today’s host, Barb Edler of Iowa, and the inspiration she brings in her prompt: https://www.ethicalela.com/connecting-with-your-inner-self/
Today’s poem is about reflecting on our goals. I think this prompt was designed just for me! I’m reflecting on my goals the last day of each month in the areas of creativity, experience, literature, gratitude, reflection, self-improvement, and spirituality that I spent the first days of the year crafting and describing on my blog. Today, a Haiku is a great way to celebrate the journey:
I'm in No Hurry
praying for answers
wondering about outcomes
I'm in no hurry
seeking my weight range
closet-eating M&Ms
I'm in no hurry
Reading Around the
U.S.A - savoring words
I'm in no hurry
counting my blessings
focusing on gratitude
I'm in no hurry
Route 66 plans
dreams in the making: someday
I'm in no hurry
creative touches
camera-ready journeys
I'm in no hurry
family stories
capturing the past in ink
I'm in no hurry
slowing down the pace
seeing more of it ~ not more
I'm in no hurry
We’re invited today to write Personal Letter poems that capture intimate moments. I think often of our old farm dog Archie, who lived under the porch of the Presbyterian Church over on Pedenville Road in Concord, Georgia and must have always been chased off with a broom by the cleaning crew. He had a dreadful fear every time I swept. In a thunderstorm, he chased a colleague’s car all the way home, looking for shelter from the storm and something to eat. Her twin girls, both veterinarians, nursed him back to health as best they could before their mother called me. This is the perfect dog for you, she urged. We’ve named him R.K. for Roadkill, which is what he’s gonna be if someone doesn’t give him a good home.
And so we brought R.K. to the Johnson Funny Farm, my husband holding him down in the bed of a Ford Ranger pickup truck as I drove us home (in a stick shift for the first time in many years), hurky-jerky all the way here, where we softened R.K. to Archie and came to love a dog who was as close to human as they get.
Good Ol’ Archie
whenever I clean the empty hardwood floor space under the antique oak buffet ~your thunderstorm safe zone~ my heart goes thud-thumpy
I exhale my eyes close I think of you, your eyebrows raising back and forth left, right, left….. looking me full in the face searching for love wanting needing my embrace waiting for my concrete to crumble
this was your favorite game
you wanted love more than food
when I let your human eyes pierce the stoic face I’d held as long as I could and my smile cracked, turned to laughter….
your full goofy body wag erupted with joy slathered me with sugary sweet love kisses paws on my shoulders
loving me as you did rescuing me as you did
* * *
and then came that morning. you hadn’t moved I knew before your three tail thud-thumps became my heartbeat
Common Threads 