The Magpie Bus is Gone

Once again I’ve decided to combine the Poetry Bus with the Magpie. This week, the bus is being driven by Marion at Dragonfly's Poetry & Prolixity. She has instructed us to write about a color. I used to collect rainbows in college (this was before Bloom County & my penguin obsession) so you can imagine how difficult it was for me to just pick one color. And, in fact, I didn’t pick just one. So there!

Gone

I didn’t turn back,
(I’m gone)
But I could feel
the panes of glass
reflecting…what?
A glorious sky,
beckoning trees -
the anguish
behind that curtain?
(I’m gone)
Blue and green
are the colors
of despair and envy.
The colors of what
I’m leaving behind.
And blue and green
are the colors
of that amazing sky
and those siren trees
that call my name.
(I’m gone)

To participate in Magpie Tales, or to read other entries (you won't be sorry!), just click here.

Old Blue

After vacuuming today I felt compelled to write something about the evil machine. As many of you know, I really do hate it. I don't know why I dread a task that takes all of 15 minutes in our small home, but I really really do. It's worse than taking cough syrup! Well, maybe it's not THAT bad.

Anyway, after it locked into the upright position for the 10^th time in as many minutes I thought – I am going to write an essay about how dumb it is for a vacuum cleaner to spontaneously lock upright while you're using it. But, just to prove that I have no control over what happens when I write, the following (Diatribe? Poem? Rant in the form of a poem?) is the result instead.

Old Blue

I have an upright vacuum cleaner.
No, I don't mean its morals.
We haven't discussed those.
In fact, we don't speak at all.

Although, to be frank
there is a lot of "talking"
while I push-me pull-ya
and take aim at walls.

Perhaps my technique
lacks some finesse.
Well, "technique" is too strong
for this spastic dance.

Ramming and shoving
and prodding with the contraption.
Flinging cords and furniture –
loose rugs stand no chance.

In the end I win.
Shut the power.
Shove the beast into
an out of the way place.

Or do I really win?
I hear its cruel laughter
as I scan the floor for debris,
one eye twitching in my face.

The Origin of Labor Day

An economic panic leading to a cut in wages. A paternalistic company not doing a good job taking care of its employees (just what kind of father was George Pullman?). A boycott and strike led by a man who didn't become a socialist until after he was imprisoned for his actions. A president who was upset about not getting his mail. A governor who was upset that he was upstaged by the president.

This, then, was the 1894 genesis of Labor Day. Basically created so we'll shut up and deliver the mail without obstruction. And then the postal workers get the day off. Hmm.

Confused? Read the Wikipedia articles on Labor Day and the Pullman Strike. And, if you're in the US & you get the day off, relax & enjoy the unofficial end of summer.

The Poetry Bus - Transformed by Love

It's the Poetry Bus! It's the Poetry Bus! This week's driver, Pure Fiction, has asked us to write about a moment of transformation. My moment of transformation happened back in seminary (no it wasn't the Old Testament paper I wrote about last week). I wrote a bit about the actual moment here (although I had my day wrong - it was July 23rd, not the 21st).

Dr. M & I playing a game with J & K - we're just friends I tell you! Friends!

I wanted to write about
How you waited under that tree
About how you slipped
Surreptitiously into

The fabric of my life.

I wanted to write about

My denial and qualm
About the way you crept

Covertly into my dreams.

I wanted to write about

Desire and a kitchen accident

About souls stealing

Silently away together.

But it made me blush
So I didn’t.

Our first Christmas

Still just friends?

Project 365 – Week Thirty-Six

 Sunday, August 29^th

Why look here – it's a hummingbird picture! And that's it for fauna this week – except for the picture of Dr. M on Wednesday. Heh.

 About every six months I get a hankering for Skyline Chili. It's a Cincinnati specialty that I thought was the most bizarre food in the universe when we moved here. Chili? On spaghetti? Topped with a mountain of cheese? How very odd! Now it's a favorite food (the secret ingredient is chocolate - so we know I'm all over that) – but one I can't eat too often. Please note that it's served with oyster crackers as an appetizer. As a good Baptist I was a bit disturbed the first time they placed the little bowl in front of me – we only ate oyster crackers at communion when I was growing up in North Carolina. Mine is a four way with beans (chili, spaghetti, cheese, beans). Dr. M got the five way - which comes with onions.

 See – I only ate about half of it – the rest made a most excellent Monday lunch.

Monday, August 30^thOn Monday I took a picture of the rising sun on my way to work. Fortunately, this stretch of road is the only bit where I face the sun – the rest of my commute is going the other direction.

Tuesday, August 31^st

On Tuesday Dr. M took some picture at a local farm. I just love this silo & the barn with its rock foundation.

Wednesday, September 1^st

On Wednesday Dr. M participated in the Student Activities Fair. It was in the 90s that day & they didn't have a tent – so he improvised with this ginormous umbrella I accidentally bought him. I knew he needed a big one that would withstand wind gusts, but I didn't really know I was ordering one THAT huge. I have to hold it with both hands when I try to use it!

On my way home from work I took a picture of this three-wheeler. I want one! I'll bet I wouldn't spend nearly as much money on gas, & I'm pretty sure I could drive it. Pretty sure. So, Daddy, this Christmas, instead of the Prius I've been asking for, you can just get me one of these. With a matching helmet. Heh.

Thursday, September 2^ndWe finally talked Martha Goose into going back to school. We may have had to resort to bribes.

Friday, September 3^rd. We need rain in the worst way, but I've been enjoying the bright blue skies and fluffy clouds. I took this picture on my way home from work.

Saturday, August 28^thOur tomato plants have a lot of tomatoes on them still. Big nice tomatoes. Big nice green tomatoes. So we're thinking they may or may not ripen. Recipes for fried green tomatoes anyone?

 Go here to see the blogs of all the other Project 365 participants.

Weekly Wordzzle – The Bug is NOT in Charge

It's Wordzzle time again! Every week I think, blech, I'm not in the mood. But then I look at the words & my brain starts whirring (tonight Dr. M was asking what that noise was), and out come the stories. Really, I have no control. Sorry.


Words for the mini: carpet, cane, outer space, handball, ambitious

"I have been called on the carpet for the last time," Sheila thought. "This company's expectations are from outer space." Aloud, deliberately misunderstanding, she said, "Well, Mr. Cane, I would enjoy playing 'handball' with you, but I'm not that ambitious!" With that, she cheerfully marched out of the company field-day plan ning committee meeting and into unemployment.


Words for the 10 word challenge: pyramid, laughter, orangutan, recycling, infinity, toilet paper, greasy dishes, Spanish, preparation, back-up

It was a pyramid scheme set up by an orangutan. It was greasy dishes with dried on Spanish rice. It was buying toilet paper into infinity. It was recycling and a computer back-up. The preparation had been full of laughter. The marriage was full of work!


And here's my mega: pyramid, laughter, orangutan, recycling, infinity, toilet paper, greasy dishes, Spanish, preparation, back-up, carpet, cane, outer space, handball, ambitious

Sylvia needed to take a walk. She finally had her outer space under control. It was the infinity of her inner space that had "issues." No matter how hard she tried to improve herself, she couldn't seem to find that one thing that didn't make her feel like an orangutan trying to learn Spanish. Actually, she would put money on the orangutan learning the language before she did. Taking up handball hadn't been any better.

And she spent her days recycling those old mental messages. "You're no better than the toilet paper stuck to the bottom of my shoe." "Greasy dishes have more personal style than you do." What had begun in love and laughter had ended with her sobbing on the carpet of her bedroom floor. Fortunately she'd had a back-up plan. It wasn't very ambitious - just staying with a relative down south - but with enough preparation she'd been able to escape.

Over time those old negative messages would be overcome by the affirmations she forced herself to read every day. "You are beautiful!" "You can achieve anything with hard work!"

Walking along the sugar cane field, she stopped at a clear place and drew a pyramid in the sand. It was her talisman. She envisioned herself standing at the top, poised to fly, over the cane field, over Louisiana, into the loveliness of her own beautiful self.

You should go to Raven's blog to read the other Wordzzle participants. And join in – it can be addictive!

Magpie #30

Absently I take a bite.

I’m not really

Paying attention

Not really tasting

That tart enticement

In just such an

Offhand way

I lose my innocence

To participate in Magpie Tales, or to read other entries (you won't be sorry!), just click here.

One Shot Wednesday - Bated Days

This is my first attempt at a Villanelle, which is an interestingly odd form for poetry. I had to modify it (well, had to isn't really right - I got bored with trying to make it work so I modified it just a bit). I'm not at all sure it even makes sense, but we all have to start somewhere. And, of course, since it's my blog I'm going to share it with you, regardless of quality. Aren't you lucky? No?  (Oh, and if you read my post from earlier today you'll note that my writer's block has not gone away. Heh.)

Bated Days

These are bated days
Though my heart is beating still
With summer’s wanton ways

The air is still and stays
Heavy upon the window sill
These are bated days

The parched grass sways
Marching in time downhill
Amid summer’s wanton ways

I am content with my malaise
Can I stave off winter with my will?
These are bated days

All that’s left is haze
Oh could we but distill
this summer’s wanton ways

The nut-brown child plays
Until he gets his fill
These are bated days
Teeming with summer’s wanton ways


This poem is part of One Stop Poetry's One Shot Wednesday poetry gathering, where all poets are welcome to share. Make the rounds!

Try Again

So, my last post was on Saturday night. Yeah, been kind of quiet on the old blog since then. Sometimes (and I know this will amaze and astound you) my brain takes a brief hiatus.

Last night I lay in bed composing the best blog post ever! Um, no. The morning light was a little too harsh on that bit of drivel. Aren’t you glad I didn’t get up in the night & just go ahead & post it? Really, you are.

So, since I am not having any original thoughts, I decided to quote someone else.

I’ve quoted Mother Barbara Crafton on here before. She’s an Episcopal priest who sends motivational emails (eMo’s) from The Geranium Farm. In her latest one she talks about how so often if we slack off or fail at something we just give up. “Oh well, I guess I just won’t make that happen this time.” I totally have that mentality – it’s all or nothing with me. At the end of the eMo she says:

Oh, but I've lost so much time! Well, okay. So the answer to that is to lose some more? Never mind what you've lost -- what can you find in the time that remains to you? How's this for an epitaph: She was off to a good start and then made a few errors. Concluding that this made all her past efforts worthless, she resolved never to try again, and she never did. Some time later, she died.

No? I didn't like it, either. Here's a better one:

She did the best she could, and it was often more than sufficient. When it fell short, she rested awhile and tried again. Sometimes she succeeded. In any case, she got further than any of us thought she would.

To read the whole eMo, go here.

The Poetry Bus Goes to School

Here we are at the Poetry Bus again (what, does this bus come around every week?). The lovely Karen, who apparently values education, is the driver & is planning quite a trip. Please go to her blog here to check out the other bus riders – there are already some great poems out there.

Her prompt this week was very simple: write a poem about school or schooling. Well, I have certainly had my share of school. This poem is about a paper I had to write in seminary.

Old Testament Therapy

I wailed my way
through that paper.
I covered the floor
with notes and books
and discarded pages
and tears.
Heart and soul -
if not mind -
went into those words.
At the end I felt
empty and victorious.

Dr. Ballentine
gave me a C.
We both knew that
what I had written
was catharsis
and not academia.
And that was fine.
Because a small chunk
of my dear battered self
swam free in those tears.


P.S. If you read "beer battered self" the first time, you are not alone. That's what I saw myself when I first read it through. And now I'm hungry! But disturbed…

Project 365 – Week Thirty-Five

Sunday, August 22^nd
Despite the fact that this week contains a little more variety in pictures, we start out with a little hummingbird action. (Little. Hummingbird. I kill myself).

Later that evening Dr. M got a picture of some mushrooms thriving behind our garden. The rest of the yard might be crackly dry, but The Watering Man keeps his garden moist enough for mushrooms!

Monday, August 23^rdMonday was such a nice day that I went out to my car at lunch & listened to my audio book a while (a better plan would be to put on my walking shoes & listen to the book while I walk, but let's not get crazy now).

That night Dr. M took a picture of the full moon. Gorgeous!

Tuesday, August 24^th
On Tuesday I downloaded a new audio book. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't recommend any of the books you see listed there, although the Fern Michaels series The Sisterhood is actually very entertaining. I just get annoyed with the soliloquies the characters are so fond of. You know, where a normal book might have a pause & a back & forth between characters, these ones just keep talking until they've said everything on their minds & then they let the other person talk. Very annoying. Well, and the fact that the plot is extra implausible. But a little implausibility hasn't really stopped me from enjoying a book in the past.

Wednesday, August 25^th
I just noticed that last Wednesday's post had tomatoes in it too – but here are my grape tomatoes, still going strong.

If there's a Reds or Braves game on, we're watching it.

Thursday, August 26^th
Thursday was a gorgeous day, so Dr. M & I both couldn't resist taking pictures. This first one is one I took on my way home from work.

Here's a finch picture Dr. M took. I like how it looks like the finch is doing some sort of yoga – Downward Bird perhaps?

One of our dry cornfields, on Dr. M's way home from work.

The spires of Antioch College. It went bankrupt a few years ago, but it's planning on reopening. It's a lovely campus. Dr. M drives by it every day. I have a secret hope that he would get a job there – it's closer than his current school. However, perhaps he should wait until it's actually a viable enterprise again. (Please note, Dr. M doesn't necessarily share this pipe dream. That's ok - I think it's healthy for couples to have separate pipe dreams).

Friday, August 27^th
It's the Tax Time Pig! This week she's Minnie Mouse.

Dr. M got this picture of a finch who appears to be checking out the antics of a squirrel running across our yard.

Saturday, August 28^th
Today I went to a birthday party for three year old twins. Oh man I'm exhausted & all I did was take pictures & eat cake. Fortunately it was held at a petting farm in Cincinnati – it was fun watching the kids pet the animals (although some of them weren't too sure about these creatures). Here are a handful of pictures I took.

I dream of a day when ducks & chickens can sit down at a meal together…

On my way home I finally stopped to take a picture of a tobacco barn I pass every day. It's actually the same farm that has sheep, but I haven't seen them very often this summer – they're too smart to be out in the sun! I don't like smoking or the smell of cigarettes, but I'll bet the tobacco in this barn smells like heaven – really!

While I was at the birthday party, Dr. M took some excellent butterfly pictures - now that you've read my post you have to go here to see his pictures.

Go here to see the blogs of all the other Project 365 participants.