poetry

First Loves in Poetry

The fog comes on little cat feet
Highwayman comes riding
First loves
In poetry become heartbeat
This love is abiding
Because

The moon’s tossed upon cloudy seas
And meanwhile the wild geese
Fly home
i thank you God, for rhymes like trees
That become gentle breeze
Poem


This week’s W3 challenge is to write a Memento — a poetic form created by Emily Romano. A memento poem captures a holiday, anniversary, or meaningful moment held in memory.

The poem is written in two stanzas. Each of the two stanzas follows this syllabic pattern:

  • Line 1: 8 beats
  • Line 2: 6 beats
  • Line 3: 2 beats

This pattern is repeated once per stanza, for a total rhyme scheme of a / b / c / a / b / c in each stanza.


True story: I wrote a Memento poem about what I thought was the first poem that I ever wrote. My mother had saved the paper witten in my blocky large first grade printing. She told me that it was the first poem I wrote. I always thought it was a pretty darn good poem for a six year old.

Then I fact-checked my mother this morning. I did NOT compose that poem. Oh, I wrote it on a piece of paper and got a gold star from my teacher, but it was not my original words. [sad face]

So, I tried to remember when my love affair with poetry began.

It was probably One Fish, Two Fish by Dr. Seuss. He still influences my writing.

But Carl Sandburg’s poem Fog is the first stand-alone, non-nursery rhyme, non-Dr. Seuss poem that I remember loving.

I memorized The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes a few years later. That was the beginning of my love affair with story poems. We had a book of story poems that included Casey at the Bat and The Cremation of Sam McGee, but I loved the melodrama of The Highwayman.

I found that story-poem book in a box recently. It was in sad shape. Such is the fate of much-loved books.

So what was the first poem I ever wrote? I have no idea.

Writing

Football

Just to be clear, this post has nothing to do with altruism.

Altruism is the prompt for JusJoJan.

True story: I don’t follow American football. Not even a little. Honestly, I’ve never really understood the game. It looks like one people-pile after another. They talk about downs, which are different from people-piles, although it sure does look like a lot of people go down in a people-pile. Then there’s the whole scoring thing: some things earn 6 points, other things earn 3, and still others earn 1, or is it 2. I don’t know.

I coached swimming. The first person to touch the wall won.

My kids played soccer. If they kicked the ball in the goal, they got one point.

Easy and straight-forward, right?

I knew my son and his family were watching some Buffalo Bills game on Saturday night, so I half-watched about 5 minutes of it. Some guy caught the ball, but another guy ripped the ball right out of his arms. The whole thing didn’t look fair. I later told my brother about it, saying (again) that I really don’t understand football and wondered why people watch it.

“You need to watch this,” he said, and he directed me to a video of a guy running back-back-back, pushed by a bunch of guys from the other team, and he throws the ball — a long long pass to a guy waiting in the endzone and they scored.

Running backwards AND throwing accurately impresses me.

All this goes to show that an impressive bit of athleticism impresses me.

Is it altruistic?

No. The fact that I can’t easily find a video that shows this shows how UNaltruistic American sports are.

It’s all about the money, right?

These things happen in a vacuum accesible only to those who sell their souls to something.

I did. I watched some inane advertisement to see that video.

So now the fact remains that I am NOT a football fan, and it has nothing to do with understanding the sport. It has more to do with the $$-wall around the whole thing.

nonsense

Impatience

Isn’t impatience beautiful? Isn’t it wonderful? Don’t you just love impatience?

Wait — what? You don’t?

What did Kafka say? Really? He said, “There art two cardinal sins from which all others spring: Impatience and Laziness.”

Why did he dislike flowers so much?

What?

There’s a difference between impatience and impatiens?

Never mind.

Forget everything I just said.


I just jotted this. Like in less than 5 minutes. The prompt today was “impatience.

Life

Wheesht

“Haud yer wheesht”

“Yer bum’s oot the windae”


These are my two lines for One-Liner Wednesday. I know, I know — it’s supposed to be only one.

I’m getting ready for my third Burns-ish celebration that I do with the seniors where I work. I’ve got the bagpiper set, haggis in the fridge, and cooking to do this weekend.

These two lines are Scottish. I have yet to go to Scotland, but I love reading about, watching movies set there, listening to the accent, etc.

Wheesht alone means hush, like talking to a child. But Haud yer weesht is a wee bit stronger, like Be Quiet!

Yer bum’s oot the windae means You’re talking rubbish.

I chose those two Scottish lines because I’ve been thinking about one of my countrymen who HAS traveled to Scotland, may even own property there in the form of a golf course or two, who may be abroad right now, who really needs to learn to wheesht because his bum’s oot the windae, if you know what I mean.

Life

In the Office

I have some regular visitors to my office. I rather like that. I watch them peek around the door to see if someone else is in my office.

“Is the coast clear?” or “Can I come in?” or “Is it all right if I say hi?”

Of course, I invite them in. It’s the best part of my day.

These days, I have a frequent flyer. I’ll call him Stan.

He’s a can-I-come-in kind of guy. “How are you, young lady?” he always asks.

Between you and me, I hate being called “young lady.” I’m not young. I may not even be much of a lady. And he’s younger than I am. Whatever.

“So what did you have for dinner last night?” He always asks that. I tell him. Even when it’s peanut butter and jelly. I think he’s looking for dinner ideas.

When I was cooking for my tribe, the hardest part was the idea.

If someone told me that tonight was meatloaf night, I would make a meatloaf. But coming up with the idea for meatloaf was something that taxed my brain.

So I started writing out a monthly menu.

Seriously.

My very first blog — 20-some years ago — included a page that was “What’s for dinner tonight.” I had a friend that told me that’s what she always went to first. For the idea.

I don’t even remember the name of that blog.

Sad, but true.

Why am I telling you all this? Oh, yeah. Stan in my office.

Stan comes in to talk. About this and that. About nothing, really.

And yet about everything.

“I love talking to you,” he said today. “You’re very honest.”

I don’t know how to be anything but.

“You’re strong,” he said.

I might beg to differ, but what good would it do?

“What are you having for dinner tonight?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied, honestly, weakly. I really don’t.

I think there’s something unspoken in all these conversations.

I’m not 100% sure what it is, but I think it’s the honesty.

I’m not looking to BS anyone. My life is my life — full of mis-steps and mistakes.

Come into my office and I’ll tell you all about it.

And listen to you talk about your less-than-perfect life.

The coast is clear.

You can come in.

It’s okay if you want to say hi.

Life

Consistency

I started a post on baking cinnamon rolls and how the baker develops a recognition of the consistency of the dough as it’s being kneaded. Yes, this yeast is alive and doing the thing it’s supposed to do.

But then I second-guessed myself. Few people will relate to that, I thought.

My fallback is to find a quote using the prompt. I forgot to mention that today’s prompt was consistency.

Consistency quotes are, well, pretty consistent. Encouragement to stick with a thing.

“Success isn’t always about greatness. It’s about consistency. Consistent hard work leads to success. Greatness will come.” ~~ Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson

“Consistency is the mother of mastery.” ~~ author unknown

“The secret to winning is constant, consistent management.” ~~ Tom Landry

“Long-term consistency trumps short-term intensity.” ~~ Bruce Lee

“Small disciplines repeated with consistency every day lead to great achievements gained slowly over time.” ~~ John C. Maxwell

You get the idea, right?

And it’s great advice; it really is!

But then I read Oscar Wilde’s quote on consistency.

He always was a rebel.

And I really appreciate that.

aging

Morning Reading

One of the ways that I organize my thoughts each morning is reading. It sets me on the right path for today.

Then, I copy a quote or two into my journal. Writing out the words, I believe, helps them stick in my brain.

This weekend, I am not at home. I could have sworn that I brought a pen with me, but it is nowhere to be found. It’s probably with my glasses.

I’m at an inn, not a chain hotel. If I were in a hotel room, I’m sure there would be a pen or two, a pad of paper or two, and far less charm than where I’m staying.

So, this morning, here is where I will copy the quote that struck me.

I’m reading a book called Aging: Growing Old in Church by Will Willimon. For the past several years, I have focused on one author each year. This year, I chose William Willimon, who somewhere between his first book, Between Two Advents, an early book of his, and this one, he shortened his name to Will instead of William. I’m curious about that.

I also wrote a letter to him, yet to be printed and mailed, asking if I could meet him toward the end of the year. When you read a lot of books by an author, you feel like you know him. My authors have all been deceased by the time I’m bingeing on them. Will(iam) Willimon is very much alive. Maybe I’ll get brave enough to send that letter.

Anyway, today’s quote:

The poet T.S. Eliot lists three ills of aging: ills of the body, ills of the world, and ills of the past… Some older persons are consumed with remorse due to life paths taken and not taken, fractured relationships, and regrettable life choices…. Nearly every Sunday the pastor invites us to ‘confess our sins to Almighty God,’ an invitation for everyone to unburden and leave their regrets at the altar. Jesus commanded us to forgive our enemies, and sometimes our greatest enemy is our vain attempt to live our lives without mistakes and regrets.

I believe that a fundamental secret of successful aging is learning to affirm the lives God gives us in the face of regret that God didn’t give us the lives we thought we needed to live happily.


This post is brought to you by the JusJoJan prompt: organ. What a great word! When I read it, organize immediately came to mind. Organ could also refer to your liver or kidney, or a musical instrument. Then there’s organic chemistry. And organisms. Even a word like ‘organization’ can go in different directions! So thank you, Kaye, for a great prompt!

Life

Lost

One of my mother’s favorite sayings when something was lost was, “It’s always the last place you look.”

It’s funny, I suppose. I say it myself these days.

But it’s really NOT funny when you’ve lost something and looked EVERYWHERE. This has been the case for me this past week. I lost my new glasses. I have looked everywhere.

Everywhere.

And yet my mother keeps whispering in my ear, “Keep looking. It’s always the last place you look.”

Not helpful.

This post is brought to you by Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday for which the prompt was “favorite saying“.

poetry

The Cave

The shadows flicker on the walls

Distorted images, truths, faces, facts
They grow, shrink, grow again, moving all the while

What am I seeing?
What is true?
I must escape this cave…


This song, The Cave by Mumford and Sons, has long been a favorite of mine. When it was in its auto-repeat phase for me, I was fascinated by the lyrics.

What does it mean to “Come out of the cave walking on your hands”? I looked it up. Those lyrics are a reference to both Plato and St. Francis of Assisi, who both sought to understand life.

The song challenges us to look at the world differently.

While not using the word “philosophy”, it IS a response to Sadje’s JusJoJan prompt: philosophy.

It’s also my attempt at a Cherita, the W3 challenge for this week. Cherita is the Malay word for story or tale.

A traditional cherita unfolds in three verses, each growing in length:
Verse 1: one line
Verse 2: two lines
Verse 3: three lines

Life

Symbiotic

Okay — so there have been times in my life when I have started something and midway through stopped to ask, “Whose dumb idea was this?” Of course it was mine.

Of course it was.

When the JusJoJan prompt for today came up, I looked at the word — symbiotic — and thought, whose dumb was that?! I think you know the answer.

I had quickly submitted it as a prompt word while feeling very frustrated with the state of our country. We’re at odds with each other too much.

I think the beauty of our country has been that we don’t always have to agree. We are free to disagree. We are free to speak about what we believe. We are free to be who we want to be. AND we are free to seek a mutual good for us all.

Until now.

But I don’t want to focus on that.

Symbiosis is when two different species or organisms live intertwined lives.

Here are three different symbiotic relationships:

  • Commensalism
  • Mutualism
  • Parasitism

Commensialism is where one species benefits and the other remains neutral. An example is barnacles on whales. The barnacle benefits from the free ride and access to plankton; the whale is unaffected. In politics, it may be the politician who considers a bill doesn’t really affect his constituents and doesn’t come with a big pricetage. It may benefit another state significantly without costing him anything. He votes FOR it.

Mutualism is where both species benefit, like bees and flowers. In politics, this may be the behind-the-scenes negotiating on some big bill. The politician may say this part benefits me and that part benefits you. Let’s do it.

Parasitism is when one species benefits and the other is harmed. Ticks immediately come to mind. Blood-sucking disease-bearing arachnids that we can all do without. Political analogy? I’ll leave that up to you.