Practically Laura

Autumn Poems, Part C

Anatomy of an Epiphany

 By Betty Collette 

 

Observe.  Think.  Create.

I am a writing teacher.

                                                            Do you write?

Embrace those special memories

Close to your heart.

                                                            Do you write?

Dig deep –

Unfold

Those small moments.

                                                          Do you write?

Remember.

Compose.

Share.

Rejoice!

                                                         Do you write?

Sure…

                                                         What?

Examples…

                                                          From your heart?

Well…I have…

                                                          When?

When I was a teen,

Poetry…      

                                                          Now?

Memories.

Thoughts.

Opinions.

                                                          Write?

No time…

                                                          Not important?

YES! 

They are!

All kinds of thoughts and ideas and memories

Come to me in

The bathroom

And I think…

I should write these down!

                                                           What are you waiting for?

 

 
Anatomy of an Epiphany

 

Why I like this poem:  I like the challenge Betty sets before herself and all of us...to not just muse on a project but to be brave enough to put ourselves out there creatively.

Betty earned an honorable mention for her entry.  Thanks for your poem, Betty!

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Silver 

by Suzy Tarnowski

 

Yesterday is spread out across my dining room table

A paper thin layer

To catch the dust

Today we will polish

Because my life is tarnished

Because all the pretties in my china cabinet are turning black

Because my mother says so

Yesterday is piling up before me

Serving spoons and piggy banks

Everything in life that’s lost its luster

Even the platter on which it came

My mother sits down across from me

Rag in hand, a ripped cloth diaper four decades old

She will rub life back into these precious things

She will make me shine

 

Silver

 What Suzy says about her poem:  “Once or twice a year my mother and I sit down together to polish silver, a day that I both look forward to and dread.  Often there is a bottle of wine involved.  The smell of Hagerty’s Silversmith Polish will linger in my house for days – and will forever remind me of my mother’s slender hands and magic touch.”

Why I like this poem:  It takes the everyday and makes it meaningful.  Suzy was the first person to submit a poem for the contest; when I read it…I felt it was incredibly special, and I'm glad Melissa agreed. 

Suzy won first place in the Autumn Poetry Contest.  Thanks, Suzy!

Autumn Poems, Part B

Doll

by Udo Hintze

You were a lucky flower
plucked
from the countryside,
and into a strange new
farmland.

There your natural beauty,
was cleaned up and refined
for Hollywood eyes;
bleached hair and teeth,
so you could fit in
their suitcase.

They carried you
around the globe,
showing you off
like a coin operated toy;
They pull the string
and make you sing
and dance,
at the appropriate times.

Your old friends back home
walk by,
see you among your sorority,
speaking a new
American sign language;
the sudden jerk movements-
on the big screen television
behind the store front glass-
saying nothing.

******

Udo won second place in the general public category.

What Udo says about his poem: "About female pop singers who come from humble beginnings and get 'the Hollywood treatment.' I wrote this about a specific singer who produced albums before she became famous and did not sing or look the way she does now." 

Why I like this poem:  It rightly bemoans the loss of innocence...the using of those we should be protecting.  Weren't they (the talented) better without the gloss of some ill-concieved, under-thought, tacky and potentially harmful reworking by those whom will sacrifice anyone but themselves in the quest for money and power (um...Sorry for the rant.). 

Thank you, Udo, for sharing your poem.

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Untitled

by Jeremy G. Smith

Why is it I repeat?
I started with nothing and began to collect.
Then I gave it all to a person I met.
When that was done I had nothing again.
Then, slowly, the moss began to grow
But I met someone else
And gave her all my things.
Now I have nothing again...
Next time I hope she's a brunette!
Stuff is overrated.

 

******

 

Jeremy earned an honorable mention with his poem.

 

 Why I like this poem:  It's funny, honest and hopeful.  What could be better!  Thanks, Jeremy.

Author's note:  Photos courtesy of photobucket.

Here are the links:

http://gi131.photobucket.com/groups/p302/PGC5O29QGJ/DSCN2062-2.jpg

http://i607.photobucket.com/albums/tt160/emo_rawr_5038/photography1751.jpg

 

Autumn Poems, Part A

Choices

by Robin Walls 

A moment not too soon

She chose her way

Different than the current stream expected.

 

And though she may be labeled

Quite old-fashioned

Peace is the companion she respected.

 

A joyful journey

Favored all her own

Simple, self-effacing and sublime.

 

Value not determined

By her sister

Left her both lonely and alive.

 

The badges pinned for glory

Are not hers

Truth revealed itself to her this way.

 

Now she can move forward

Few will follow

For one’s choices are not easily unmade.

***************************************************************************************

Robin's poem, Choices, won third place in the general public category.

Why I like this poem:  It speaks about what may lay beneath the obvious...it reminds us not to judge based on petty outward appearance.   On the other hand, we must sometimes accept the notion everyone may not understand the path we choose.  Thank you, Robin, for sharing your poem.

Choices

 

An Autumn Haiku

by Lisa Estep

Light rain, a quiet house.
In response, our spirits stir.
We survived summer.

**************************************************************************************

Lisa's poem, An Autumn Haiku, won first place in the family category.

Why I like this poem:  For me...especially this past summer...living in an overly hot, sustained, dry summer felt as a heavy weight which would never be lifted.  Lisa's poem speaks of the rebirth or relief those of us in hot climates feel as we begin to experience the slight cooling of the autumn weather.  You think rebirth happens in spring...not for us.  Thank you, Lisa.

An Autumn Haiku, Photo by Lisa Estep

Broken Blade, etc.

Dull, red-chipped armor snarling, cutting, moving forward

One green-tinted blade, shallow-rooted, starving

Surrounded by other brave companions

All slightly brown

Yearning for water

But the fight's gone on so long; forever

Crisp and prickly, knowing the sword is coming

But waiting to be cut down; Knowledge all is lost

Remaining steadfast even so

The cutter approaches, overwhelming ROOOAARR!

Standing tall in the face of Red Death on wheels

Sword passing, heart-stopping

Then, miraculous, Green Blade lives…but is diminished.

Next the rain comes

 

I wanted to encourage you to be thinking about a submission for the poetry contest.  The contest is very informal (I wouldn't have it any other way)...it shouldn't be a scary thing...because Melissa and I are gentle souls (always for her; 98% for me), and we'll treat your creations with respect.

Additionally, please pass the information along to your children.  The creativity of children and teens never ceases to amaze me...they don't usually have the inhibitions and fears we have a tendancy to befriend as we gain experience.

In the meantime, think about shedding your inhibitions...losing some of your baggage...in a small way.

As you may have noticed above...my own poetry isn't earth-shattering, but in thinking it up...it keeps my mind active...it helps me to process the things around me.

So write something funny, sad, angry, sappy, sarcastic, bittersweet or all of the above.

Tell a story...or not.

But I have to say...I'm so ready to admire what you create.

Breakfast with a Friend

Dire everything

An untied shoe means I’m a bad parent.

No perspective

My beautiful laugh lines are now wrinkles.

Off-focus

I see every speck of dirt.

Sure knowledge

A friend is an extinct species.

Another risk

It’s only for breakfast

Meeting time

You smile at me.

Dire nothing

My heart is a dandelion seed.

Different perspective

I like your laugh lines; they remind me of mine.

On-focus

My purpose:  Beau reve.

Sure knowledge

I have friends.

 
 

I Remember: You

Author's note:  My sister recently celebrated a milestone birthday, so I decided to write her a little something in remembrance.  It's more of a poem than prose...or maybe a hybrid.

"Let it Be" by The Beatles is my song dedication to her...because we both love The Beatles. 

"Whisper words of wisdom...Let it be..."

I Remember:  You

I remember:   Your relief when Mom refused to throw me in the garbage as you requested….only kidding…I don’t remember that.

I remember:  You urged me to fly on wobbly wings among typical living room tables.

I remember:  You thought you were my mommy, too.

I remember:  You sat by me at a yellow breakfast bar…breakfast after breakfast of toast….yours with butter only or maybe cinnamon sugar….mine with anything sweet I could get my hands on.

I remember:  You played Barbie with me.

I remember:  You and I shared Sunday après-church Burger King fries.  They were a small.  You liked ketchup and mustard on your burger…I liked ketchup only.

I remember:  You had to take piano from the scary piano teacher…I didn’t understand it.  I still don’t…and she had a scary little Pomeranian, too….and her son had lots of snakes.

I remember:  You got your ears pierced at thirteen…about the same time I became persona non grata.

I remember:  You told me I was better than that.  I don’t remember why you said it, but I’m sure it was fitting.

I remember:  You picked me up at the station after I travelled hours and hours on a stinky Greyhound to visit you at college.  It was worth it.

I remember:  You were afraid of lots of little caterpillars in your room (that darn screen never fit quite right).  I helped you clean them up.

I remember:  You were brave and changed directions.

I remember:  You liked alternative rock…and I did, too….Simple Minds at the Bronco Bowl, but in separate cars with separate friends on different days.

I remember:  You allowed me to tag along to Scotland.  We bought plaid stuffed Nessies and other plaid things….and learned about wold cots.

I remember:  You searched and found and then wished.

I remember:   You cried….and later I cried.

I remember:  You proudly announced the impending arrival of your own little hope….and another.

I remember:  You bought the same Gap shirt as I…a whole country’s width apart.

I remember:  You became a teacher….only to discover you were one all along.

I remember:  You and I danced with abandon to old eighties disco tunes with our children…and laughed.

I remember:  You personified determination…for years and years and infinity.

I remember:  You sat down and burned me a “Welcome Home” CD after our return from Canada.

I remember:  You bought a better camera…and it turned you into Queen Butterfly.

I remember:  You challenged me to think.

I remember:  You.