W3 Prompt #42; Puente

Wea’ve Written Weekly

I’m squeaking in late with a response to the most recent W³ prompt. This week’s Poet of the Week is Tanmay Philip and Tanmay would have us write a “Puente” poem (Go to The Skeptic’s Kaddish to find out more) with the middle stanza containing the title of a song— (oh-oh; I was working with a line from a song, not a title) Okay, so my puente does not contain a song title, but a line from Patti Smith’s “Dancing Barefoot“; actually, it includes more of Patti Smith’s words from that song (italicized) Further, it is more than three stanzas long, so may not in fact be a puente, though I really like the idea of a puente. This is what the prompt garnered.

We Sing by D. Avery

Running, flying, dancing barefoot with our sisters
over the sun warmed Earth 
clouds, blue-skied imagination, our wings
In love with the Earth, with each other 
safe with our mothers, we sing that
she is benediction
she is the root connection

~We shut our eyes, we stretch out our arms~

Spring is now summer
and we now the mothers
growing and gathering 
with our daughters marveling 
under a moon washed sky we sing that
she is benediction
she is the root connection

~We shut our eyes, we stretch out our arms~

It is an autumn gathering 
our daughters now mothers pulled in their own directions
and we tend the fire with our sisters 
where we roar and laugh under a moon waning 
we dance and sing that
she is benediction
she is the root connection

~We shut our eyes, we stretch out our arms~

welcome winter unafraid as a tree
We know that we are benediction
and we are the root connection
We see with our hearts
our hearts are open
We are re-creation and we
are blessed among women

Here is a link to the song, one of many covers of “Dancing Barefoot”. Patti Smith is in the audience watching First-Aid Kit sing this Rolling Stone top 500 song of all time. While I prefer the artist’s recording of the song on her album Wave, it seems fitting to show these young women’s rendition of the song written by a rock-n-roll pioneer who has long been a role model for girls and women in many arenas.

#99Word Stories; Jam

The February 13, 2023 story challenge from Charli Mills at Carrot Ranch is to: In 99 words, no more no less, write a story about a smear of jam. Is it across a slice of toast, a white shirt, or something unexpected? The jam could be the focus or detail that ads a twist. Who are the characters with the jam and where are they situated in space and time? Go where the prompt leads!

Do go on over and read Charli’s post. You have through Saturday to submit your story at Carrot Ranch.

Mornings After by D. Avery

“Tell me your dreams.”

‘Night dreams or daydreams?’ she used to respond. Their daydreams were their shared aspirations: to be successful in their careers; buy a home; have children; grow old together.

“We should get going.” She no longer liked their morning ritual.

“One thing,” he persisted.

“Okay. I dreamed of bread. With jam.”

“Mmm.”

She wouldn’t tell him that in her dream the slice of bread was small and that she had hidden it from him and eaten it all herself.

Rising cautiously from the sheltering rubble they walked on through the ruins, their lives a waking nightmare.

Be sure to go to Carrot Ranch to read the complete “Dishes” collection from last week. And there’s always the Ranch Yarns with Kid and Pal’s responses HERE.

#50WordStories; Dream State

I have another piece up today at 50-Word Stories. Thank you editor Tim Sevenhuysen, for publishing my contribution. 50 words is fun! Maybe you’ll click over and comment at FiftyWordStories.

Read Dream State Here

#PicoftheWeek; Eye-Catching& #99Word Stories; Nature

Just an owl, but I stopped, my eye already caught by snow on branches.

I stopped to see this owl see me, watched it watch and listen from this tree.

I too swiveled my head, looked out at the snow crusted field with the owl.

How I wanted to hear what it heard, to see what it saw from that tree.

All I could see was a gray woolen sky, these snow cloaked trees, and this owl.

Darkening gray of this time of day, I’m homeward bound, my work day done.

But I stopped, to see another just begun.

I am responding to Maria Antonia‘s #picoftheweek photo challenge,crossing out “eye-catching” on her bingo board of inspiration. Though not a requirement, I usually try to include a short syllabic poem to accompany my photo. This week that poem is in 99 words, no more no less; the first six lines are of seventeen syllables each, each an American sentence, with eleven more syllables in eight more words to meet the Carrot Ranch criteria of 99 words. Check out Maria’s  #2023picoftheweek to see how you can participate in this fun prompt, and be sure to check out Carrot Ranch for all sorts of fun, information, and opportunity.

The Carrot Ranch February 6, 2023, prompt ?: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story as a love letter to nature. You could reach back to more pastoral times of writing or enter into the future. Who is writing the letter — an ant or an aunt? Is it a lifetime of love or eons? Go where the prompt leads!

#SixSentenceStories; Bubble

I’m a might late, but the word Denise at GirlieontheEdge has had out since Sunday this week is “bubble“. Go HERE to link up your six sentence story (or poem, soc, what have you) as long as it is six and only six sentences (or lines or stanzas or what have you). Go, see what the merry Sixarians have written. The Rex of this Six, first appeared in a Six Sentence Story way back when it was not Denise hosting. Here he is again, the King of Cool at his little school.

Hard Change by D. Avery

Bubble Yum® and then Bubblicious® had come to a world that had only ever known the hard little rectangles of Bazooka® with its powdery folded comic inside the waxed paper wrapper.

Sides were picked, Bubble Yum® versus Bubblicious®, allegiances sworn, each camp insisting their brand had superior softness, flavor, and bubble blowing capacity. Of course, we looked to Rex for the final say, but Rex’s only comment in the bubblegum arguments was to push out a taut pink bubble then loudly snap his Bazooka®.

Rex never asked, but did accept the tribute offered him in pieces, packs even, of these new bubblegums; he’d chew what was given to him, blow bubbles that obscured his face, but never expressed a preference, and when he pulled from his own pocket, it remained traditional Bazooka®.

The arguments and debates waned and most of us went back to Bazooka®, not because we thought it was better than the new gums, but because Rex chewed Bazooka®. And a few of us appreciated that Bazooka® was still two for a nickel, not 25 cents a pack, and if you didn’t have that nickel, it was easier to nick a few pieces of Bazooka® unnoticed than the neatly stacked shiny foil packs of soft bubblegum.

W3 Prompt #41; Golden Shovel

Wea’ve Written Weekly

It’s time again for a W³ prompt. What’s fun and unique about this poetry prompt is that you never know what the challenge is going to be. The current Poet of the Week, chosen by the previous Poet of the Week, decides the challenge and constraints. Never tired, always inspired! This week, Angela Wilson’s guidelines are to 1. Select a haiku written by someone other than yourself; 2. Construct a “Golden Shovel” poem from that haiku. Go to The Skeptic’s Kaddish to find out more. There you’ll find the link to leave your poem and to read the other poets’ work.

Did you know that Jack Kerouac wrote tons of haiku? Syllable counters and line measurers might take issue with calling his short poetry haiku, but he wrote by his own rules. My shovel poem is from the following poem by Mr. Kerouac:

Blizzard in the suburbs

   – the mailman

And the poet walking

Out Walking by D. Avery

Who would be out in a blizzard

in weather that screams Go in!

Who would bend their hatted head against the

squall that recasts the suburbs

into whited-out, mapless terrain— (the

meanest dogs pity the mailman

with his thickening lashes and

his wet feet growing numb)— the

mailman, chin down, barely nods at the poet—

the only other person with reason to be out, in the snow and wind, walking.

d’Verse Quadrille #169; A Star (Poem) is Born

It’s Quadrille Monday and De Jackson, aka WhimsyGizmo, is the publican at d’Verse , the pub for poets. She would have us “Pen a poem of precisely 44 words, not counting the title, including some form of the word star. Post your poem on your own blog and share your link using the Mr. Linky below. Then shoot around to read the work of other poet superstars. The prompt is up through Friday, so be sure to come back and read – and write – some more!”

Familiar Reflections by D. Avery

A star provides a moon its light,

moonlight is a reflection of the sun—

new moon, full moon

ever-present—

even on darkest night

My starry eye,

the moon within my heart—

the light in me,

the light in you—

our seeing makes us one.

W3 Prompt #40; Urban Landscapes

Wea’ve Written Weekly

The W³ prompt this week, brought to us by the current Poet of the Week, Jaideep Khanduja, is to write a tanka that includes the phrase “concrete jungle” and uses the poetic device of personification. The goal, he says, is “to bring attention to the beauty and complexities of urban landscapes through the traditional Japanese poetic form of the tanka”. Go to The Skeptic’s Kaddish to find out more. There you’ll find the link to leave your poem and to read the other poets’ work.

My first reaction was that I would not be participating this week, as the topic and setting is too foreign for me. My second reaction was to write this:

The land remembers

itself before concrete tombs

discordant jungles

Gasping under so much weight

we might not hear its stories

That response doesn’t really fit the prompt. It did lead to a more positive response, though I’m not so sure this tanka meets the requirements either.

Concrete jungle drums

beats of art, architecture

threads woven stories

Treasures of the labyrinth

told in eight million voices

#99Word Stories; Dishes & #SSS; Blur

The January 30, 2023 story challenge from Charli Mills at Carrot Ranch is to: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about the dishes. It can be the every-single-day activity, a precious collection, or any other interpretation of dishes as objects or activities. Who is stuck with the dishes and why? Go where the prompt leads! Submit at Carrot Ranch by February 4, 2022.

These two scenes feature characters who debuted in The Verge and who have shown up for Six Sentences and 99 word challenges off and on. The word from Denise for this week’s Six Sentence challenge is “blur”. Link HERE to join in.

Breaking Tradition (99 words) by D. Avery

“House warming gift,” Aunt Helen said.  Daddy lifted paper from the box.

“You said you could use some dishes.”

“Momma’s China set! We were never allowed to touch these. I don’t think they ever got used.”

“Not even at Christmas.”

“What am I supposed to do with these?”

“Use them!”

“What if they break?”

“What if?” And Aunt Helen raised a plate over her head and smashed it down on the floor! “I’m not going to be stuck with these dishes.” She let me break one too.

“Every day,” she said, looking right at me, “Is to be celebrated.”

Seeing Straight  (Six sentences in 99 words) by D. Avery

Me and Aunt Helen picked up takeout while Daddy walked to the package store, then we set the little table in our new apartment with those fancy dishes. We shared lo mein out of a dish Helen called a tureen and we all drank out of tea cups with saucers.

Katie called and Daddy told us that Katie said dirtying dishes missed the point of takeout. Helen laughed and said that was the point. She laughed even more when Daddy said Katie said he was blurring his words.

“Splained it’s a family celebration of clean slates and dirty dishes.”

Be sure to go to Carrot Ranch to read the complete “Optimism” collection from last week. And there’s always the Ranch Yarns with Kid and Pal’s responses HERE.