Patchwork Prose and Verse
To commemorate Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day, I’ve written a reverse etheree.
To the hell of a concentration camp
To the death showers of Zyklon B
To separated families
To long lost baby shoes
To Hitler’s nightmare
To starvation
To ghettos
To hate
I
Am
From love
From living
From just like you
From family meals
From falling deep in love
From dreams and aspirations
From the freedom to live and choose
From the tribe of Father Abraham
From my ancestors’ strong family tree
Watermelon Offerings
what is this?
well, would you
believe it?
a text ~ding~
a random
communication
newsflash
like a game of Yahtzee
nine years after the full house
will this not substitute
for the apology
owed everyone involved?
this we know:
the human heart
slices cleaner
than seedless watermelon
all cut up in cubes
in a parfait dish
for the entitled
wedding soloist
we could take lessons
from chickens in a dust bath
shaking it all off
instead dwell in mud
wallowing unforgiveness
pig kin bickering
get out of the mire
unstuck from the yucky muck
before it’s too late!
*inspired by a recent sermon heard on YouTube
The Main Character
he seeks center stage
he knows his lines, his music
his orchestration
but music changes
suddenly the stage lights dim
spotlights shift elsewhere
When God Winks Haiku
When God winks on love
You can feel His eyelashes
Fluttering your heart
Other Sunrises
if we have
glorious sunrises
here on earth
are there billions
of
galaxies
with other sunrises?
and how breathtaking
are they?
*********
p.s. It’s May 1. Have you said, “rabbit, rabbit?” yet on the first? Here’s to a great month, plus a picture of my backyard rabbit named Rabbit Rabbit.
Today we wrap up #VerseLove 2024 at http://www.ethicalela.com with a prompt from Dr. Sarah Donovan, inviting us to choose a favorite prompt from the month and write another poem on that same prompt. I chose Stacey Joy’s In Our Mama’s Kitchens and Fran Haley’s The First Time. A very special thanks to Sarah Donovan and to Two Writing Teachers for giving us a space to write and grow and encourage each other. I look back as a preacher’s kid growing up in a household where one truly never knew which way the ball was coming, and today’s poem takes me back to the first time I knew I needed to hold on tight.
Pastorium Perils
late summer 1971
in rural Reynolds, Georgia
the land of peach trees
in their time of ripeness
Mama was pregnant with
my baby brother and
we were in the den
Mama Daddy and me
when
~~whoosh~~
in through the kitchen door
a naked girl with
long wet hair
streaked through
our house holding a towel
screaming all the way
down the hall
to my parents’ bedroom
locking the door
on her heels her stepdad
pounding and screaming
threatening her life
I recognized them from church
I was five
the girl was a teenager
(with flapping boobs
……and hair….down there?)
her stepdad was drunk
my mother clutched me
carried me like a football
into my room
locked the door
then ran through
the connecting bathroom
I followed, fearful
to stay alone
crawled under their bed
Mama found the girl
huddled in the bottom
of their closet
shaking
crying uncontrollably
wailing for help
Mama comforted her
clothed her
sat on the bed
holding her
called the cops
we listened
in fear for Dad
as we waited
those slurred screams
of fury
are seared
into my memory forever
she comes with me
or I’ll go get
my ruiner
and ruin you
then more voices,
the crash of a lamp
furniture slamming
handcuffs, arrest,
police report
one prominent
family in ruins
exposed
it was the first time
I knew
growing up a preacher’s
kid would bring
a whole cast of
characters always calling
mostly clothed
it was the first time
I saw a naked teenager
running for her life
Fran Haley of North Carolina is our host for Day 29 of #VerseLove, inspiring us to write Heart Map poems. You can read her full prompt here.
Fran explains that author Georgia Heard created Heart Maps to help younger students find their own meaningful stories. She encourages us to brainstorm “first times” in our own lives – or last times.
The Last Time
The last time I came home
before you died you
stood feebly
in the door
cold rushing in
against your
flannel pajamas
swallowing you
life leaving your body
escaping you
your voice
deep and low
sunk to the bottom
of your being
a soul cry of despair
saying my name
Kim
proving you knew me
there at the bitter end
unlike the times before
your trembling arms
reaching for me
I reeled at
the change in you
in only a few days
and held you up
while we cried
both knowing
this would be
our last
standing hug
our last
cry together
our final
goodbye
before you
slipped away
I watched you die
Glenda Funk of Idaho is our host for Day 28 of #VerseLove, inspiring us to write Strike Through Poems. You can read her full prompt here. Strikethrough poetry is similar to found or blackout poetry, where a poem exists within an existing poem.
The Key
Don’t you wish we
could take the key
to the end of
the island like
we used to do
when I was little
and you could still
say Latin names
for each shell and bird and tree
your love for them pure
and passionate before
the day it all changed
for you?
Jessica Wiley of Conway, Arkansas is our host today for Day 27 of #VerseLove2024. She inspires us to write Sound Off poems, spouting off about things that irk us. You can read her full prompt here.
Burning Realms
his whole realm
went up in smoke
ashes of trust
soot of believability
smoldering memories
of the way
upon-a-times
once were
the day he
struck the sulfury
match
burning an
entire
kingdom to the
ground
starting with
his own
castle
*sulfury is a play on soul fury, as in Jessica’s original prompt a podcast entitled Sound and Fury was part of the discussion.
Common Threads 