Open Write September Day 2

Dave Wooley is our host for Day 2 of the September Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com, inviting us to write poems today about mirrors. Come write with us or read our poems.

Join us today for our book launch party, too! September 22, 2024 – we are having an Online Publication Party to celebrate this bounteous time in our poetry community. Please join us for a live event on Zoom/YouTube at 12 PM PST/2 PM CST/3PM EST and bring friends with you…we are going to celebrate! 

Mirrors

mirrors
of life
in art

Picasso
exhibit
in Nashville
with my
daughter

we sat
admiring
wondering
taking it
all in

then my
birthday~
she sent
blank journals
with
Picasso art
covers
fronts and backs

mirrors

mirrors
of life
these words

conversations
with Fran
we chatted
on writing
on family
on pens
and pencils

then a
Ticonderoga
Noir
Holographic
Hexagon
flat sections

mirrors

Conversation with Maxine Overheard in a Motel Lobby off I-16 in South Georgia

Background: We are traveling on weekends these days to see my father and help with some household tasks, so we are spending some time in hotels and motels on the road. Sometimes I just like to eavesdrop and take notes about how life happens for other people – which is what I did on Saturday morning as we sipped coffee in the lobby. There’s nothing quite like a little slice of cultural conversation, overheard, to get the mind racing about what life is like in other corners of the world.

“they finally found him in Statesboro in CCU

after he went into Metter and they transported

him to Statesboro then to Augusta who sent him

back and he was lost, nobody knew where

he was at but he was at a dadgum good hospital

in Augusta and either he checked hisself out

or somebody came and picked him up and

took him back to Statesboro…..

I cried all

night because I messed up my baby’s hair

and it looked like a lawnmower done ran

over it and all the kids teased him in school

but the vet showed me how to hold the

clippers and I did it just like that…..

I called Betty Joyce, Maxine, and you do not

understand sometimes I have to talk to her

and I told her I can’t deal with her actin like

a two year old like she done this morning….

now Barri in Laundry don’t want that job

so I better not hear her complainin one more

time cause it’s done been offered but she

says she don’t want lobby…

there’s three types of tacos up there and I

got off the phone with Ashley and asked Mama

if she wants to share a plate of three tacos

but Mama said them tacos won’t be very big

and she got hers with beef and I got mine with

pickles in those torTILLa shells, and we shared

them but she ate two and I ate one and she was

upset so Denise called and asked her if she wanted

to go sit over there at her house and I told her

regardless of her knee surgery she weren’t going

because her grandkids are coming and Denise has

Covid and she’s actin funny. All this crap I

got going on and my Mama’s gon’ talk to

me this way. Her husband left last night

and where’s he at now? Nobody knows.

I was still hungry so I told Ashley I wanted

some rice and beans because my tacos

showed up without pickles and onions

so she brought those out to the house

and added some pork and pineapple and

it was so good, Maxine. Mama got a piece

of pineapple in her taco and I thought she

was ‘gon flip her lid and she started

actin up again…..

And so a couple comes up to check in

off Cartwright and wants a room at 7:54 a.m.

and the clerk tells them if they stay around

here they have to live over 50 miles away

to check in and the man said it was

more comfortable though

{my mind

was racing at this point, there was

no sleep about to happen, and the

botch-haircutter went back to

weaving a web of life so intricate

and vernacularly cultural that I

had images of a web with the

word TERRIFIC over a

smiling Wilbur as I thought

of that rude goose and Templeton}…..

And I busted her out in front of

her husband at the ballpark

cause she’s been here but

not with him – she’s been here

and she looked at him and me

and when I hinted I’d seen her

recently she looked stupid and said

she ain’t seen me in probably

never.”

Honeybee

a honeybee

took a liking

to my Cayman Jack

margarita

climbing into

the bottle

taking a long swig

then a dip

then a plunge

then a swirl

and died

a senseless

death as I

tried to help

her back

to a better life

but she

refused to

admit her

problem ~

she’s buried

at campsite 301

by the fire pit

a pollinator

extraordinare

her life cut

short by

the delusional

pleasures of

this world

When I Travel

heightened awareness

sharpened observations of

places not traveled

I notice details ~

patterns on tiled floor lobbies,

artwork on bed walls

like something ignites

the flames of living in me

I don’t have at home

Backseat Whale Feeding


twenty five years ago

we smiled at family pictures

taken that same day

with all the colorful striped

fish in the Gulf of Mexico

swimming between the lens

and our smiling eyes inside

our masks after our

cruise ship dinner

fish not there to make the

water look like a happy place

teeming with adventure

but to eat of the photographer’s

fish food, tiny dollar signs

not evident in the photos

which is why I told a friend

in Massachussets when we

were in the Uber going whale

watching that the only reason

they could guarantee a

whale sighting was because

they feed them

and her expression said

it made sense to her

but not the Uber driver

who snapped back

that’s absurd!

we do NOT feed our whales,

the ocean does!

but I kept it all

stirred up from the

back seat

asking whether

the tour boat sold photos

and t-shirts and mugs,

nodding with

suspicious raised

eyebrows at his retorts

to these whale feedings

before his bombshell

revelation question~

and you two ladies are whale

watching in those clothes?

(it was true: we were

wearing thin long-sleeved

t-shirts, one layer only,

having forgotten about

the fierce ocean winds

of late October)

where are your jackets?

you’ll freeze

to which I replied

heck, no, sir! we won’t freeze

we plan to buy

the souvenir jackets

when we buy our bag of

whale food

in the adventure shop

my friend could hardly

contain her laughter

and we exploded with

belly-burning snortles

when we stepped

out of the car,

rushing in to buy

thick hoodies and sunglasses

at the ticket pick-up

but we knew he’d won

with a quick phone call to

the tour boat company

when the boat narrator

announced she’d heard

that there are people

who mistakenly believe

that the boats

feed the whales

(glancing in our

direction, everyone

else giggling and

exchanging raised

eyebrow eyerolls)

before explaining

the truth

Day 4 of the August 2024 Open Write at www.ethicalela.com

Today’s host for Day 4 of the August Open write at http://www.ethicalela.com is Jeanie White of Missouri, who inspires us to write postcard poems. You can read her full prompt here.

Jeania encourages us to think of ourselves as a sock in a suitcase and somewhere we might find ourselves, or to write from a place we have never been. She encourages us to use one of the short forms – a form that would fit on a postcard.

I’m choosing an acrostic, in which the place I most want to visit reads vertically and each letter starts a new line.

Travel Fever

I want to pack my bags, go where it’s

Cold – to soak in thermal springs, to

Explore an ice cave in the

Land of Ice and Fire

Aurora Borealis dancing as the

Northern Lights

Delight the eyes and soul

Facts retrieved from: https://www.trafalgar.com/real-word/facts-about-iceland/

Dreamland B&B

his wife has auburn curls

and never enough

cookbooks

he owns a farmland B&B

with steps down

into the kitchen

where he’s made cinnamon

rolls early

strong coffee

leading the way

kitchenward

where we ponder

all the possibilities

of the day

without

deadlines

we sip on

our own

schedule

The Mouse

image generated with AI

in my quasi sleep mode

where he kisses me goodbye

before leaving for work

he whispered

be careful when you open the door

there’s a mouse trying to get in

because that’s what happens on a farm

when even the field mouse have had it

with the scorching heat of summer

which prompted deep sleep dreams

of a mouse with a tiny suitcase

because his car ran out of gas

selling encyclopedias

running from a snake

proclaiming his testimony

asking for a glass of water

hoping to find a new home