Words Change Lives

This morning, I am a bit sad that April, filled with writing and reading poetry is coming to a close; however, I am also inspired to write to remember, to dream, to hope, and even to protest.  I am also happy that I found an inspiring group of writing fanatics who happily fill their time with reading and writing. Here is my note of thanks for all the prompts and encouragement this month. 

Did

You know

Venturing

Out of your blog

Weaving words into 

Daisy chains of ideas

With pros, having profound thoughts,

Finding inspiration, fueling

Ideas, phrases as you work, walk,

Exploring a formidable genre?

Was a possibility for me?

I was intimidated, but,

I jumped in bravely sharing,

Your words inspiring mine

Sharing memories,

Powerful, deep,

Words change

Lives

Memories Take Root

We always talk about revision with students.  This is a revised poem focused on AI Titles for Ethical ELA that reminds me of the power of revision. 

I started at the house

Still on the corner,

Without its front porch?

No rambling butterfly bushes? 

Now purple with florescent green trim?

Looking so different, so sad.

"Keep moving,"

I said, wistfully,

Thinking about the newlyweds

Building new memories

From seeds planted long ago.

As I turned my car towards home,

Where my crisp white porch, 

Lots of pots, and a packet of seeds,

Were waiting for me.

SOL25 April 29 I Drove By

Today's SOL is inspired by Kiley's comments

during a cocktail hour before the dancing!

She was talking about her grandparents' home.

"I drove by their old house," she said,
"I almost didn't recognize it. 

There were always flowers,"

she said, remembering, wistfully.

I was not surprised when, the next morning

I turned the car towards

My grandma and Pop Pop's house,

Still on the corner of Orange Ave,

Without its front porch?

Without it's claw-footed clay pots dripping with ivy?

Without the big window into the living room?

Without the out of control butterfly bush?

Looking so different, so sad.

Then, I turned my head towards

My Aunt Minnie's house,

Across the avenue,

No longer neatly painted white with crisp red trim?

Now purple and florescent green trim?

No longer a perfect porch to ponder life's woes?

Now a collection of beds, chairs and debris?

Not a flower in sight.

Looking so different, so sad. 

"I drove by their houses," I thought,

"I didn't like what I saw.

There were always flowers,"

I said wistfully

Knowing it was really the people

Not the flowers I was missing.

"Perhaps you can only move forward,"

 I thought, wistfully,

Thinking about the newlyweds

Building their own new memories

From the seeds of those who grew loving families,

As I turned my car towards home,

Where my pots dripping with pansies waited,

Where my crisp white porch

Filled with chairs for pondering

Was waiting for me.

That Fluorescent Green Bike's Driver

Today's Ethical ELA prompt asked us to write a "cause and effect poem" about how good may arise from or in spite of bad. I wasn't sure, but then I remembered the green motorcycle that took my breath away as it sped past weaving between cars.....

Most mornings I saw

A fluorescent green bike weaving

Dangerously between

Fast moving cars,

A human leaning low

Keeping any human resistance

To the bare minimum,

Learning to the side

Flying between rocky cliffs

To get to wherever,

Leaning to the heavens

To provide guidance.

One morning, I realized I had not seen

The heart stopping weaving mirage 

For a long while.

I wondered, I hoped the green bike,

The death-defying driver were OK,

I said a prayer.

Many mornings later, a headline,

A glimpse of a mangled motorcycle,

Life changing injuries,

Reckless driving changed his course,

Artificial limbs, replacing originals,

Hand controls, replacing antics,

Skin graphs, replacing youthful features. 

That morning, I realized he was

Changing lives, hopefully.

Presenting, now, to schools,

Warning, now, to young ones,

Providing, now, guidance

From the heavens.

A Space For Peace

Ethical ELA's post today asks us to write about a person, place or item that brings or eludes peace. This is an easy one and I chose to write about my front porch, a space for peace.

At the front of the last house,

Flanked by a pair of well worn rocking chairs,

After a year of loss and upheaval,

She welcomed me to sit for a spell.

A gentle breeze, 

A promise of fresh air, a fresh start,

A few cars passing by

A reminder I was not alone, 

I put my feet up on the rail

I opened a familiar book,

I felt the support of all who sat here before,

I breathed for the first time, in a long time,

She was just what I needed, but didn't know,

She was a space for peace. 

Ache of the Day Club

 I have been writing as part of Ethical ELA this month.  Today's prompt asked us to write about the minor aches and pains, rather than the big ones, that are part of each of our lives.  So today, I write about the Ache of the Day Club giving credit to Vinny, who coined the term at early morning aquacise! 

I know you are coming,

Brace myself,

Down the stairs gingerly,

I know I will feel you,

Today in the elbow, first time,

What did I do to deserve this one? 

You were in the right knee yesterday

Did I walk too much?

In the arch of my foot before that,

Those new shoes too tight?

You were there 

As I rose my arms last week

Too much swimming?

Yet that too moved south

To the lower back where I

Slept too hard, too long?

You are around

At times in my heart

Where the aches, pains, concerns,

Sometimes enormous,

Of friends and family

Overwhelm the every-day,

Results of time and usage,

Thanks to you,

I am a member of the

Ache of the Day Club.

April 24 Remembrance Day

Today, Ethical ELA asked us to write about a season, or a time in life.  I am writing a reminder that today is Holocaust Remembrance Day.  It is particularly important to remember this year that no one should blindly follow another human.  Stop and remember.

Today

We should

Take time, remember

Targeting people against people,

Blind following of cult leaders.

Ghettos, hiding, labor and concentration camps,

Mass deportations, brutal treatment, targeted starvation, murder,

Hate over rational thinking, Antisemitism over common sense,

Million of Jewish people lost, plus Gypsies, dissenters, disabled,

Please end persecuting based on religion, heritage Holocaust Remembrance Day.

On Maiden Voyages

This morning on Ethical ELA we are asked to create a list poem.  As I walked in the brilliant sunshine this morning, I noticed a packed UHaul and it brought back memories of college runs....

Have you?

Loaded beds, stacked boxes,

Sweating, breathing expletives,

Rolled rugs, stuffed clothes,

Shoving into crevices,

Culled piles, ditched treasures?

Driven for hours, 

Searched in boxes, glared into bags,

Hoping you have the key?

Looked to the Heavens,

Wondering about this move?

Rented apartments, found trucks,

Knowing it is for an interval,

Believed in opportunities to learn and grow.

Moving the mounds of belongings

Required for young lives

On their maiden voyages?

April 22 That Table

 

For many years, it sat

on her sun porch, 
a rarely visited spot filled with

stacks of old newspapers and magazines and

out of season geraniums.  There,  I found

her previously loved

taking-up housekeeping

center of her life,

heart of her kitchen table.

It was long-ago painted white, 

but worn clean from washing and scrubbing,

with edges covered with evidence of

abandonment as time and tastes moved on.

"Sure, take it," she said of the old table

Likely shaking her head, wondering why

anyone would want that Sears Roebuck

catalog gift for newlyweds with nothing but hope.

I adopted it as a tween to use as a base for

sewing, writing, hoping. 

Painted now in trendy antique red,

it spent an era in my bedroom, 

where it's edges were covered in threads

as a heart of my dreams table.

"Sure you can take it," she said

as I left that home, a newlywed myself

with little but hope. It was

repurposed as a kitchen table for

meals, discussions. 

Painted a trendy yellow,

worn thin from pasta and elbows.

Time past, again, it was

repurposed as a computer table.

Painted brown, it

celebrated it's centennial birthday and

produced a dissertation

before a well-earned retirement in a garage.

Holding left over training wheels,

scraps of wood, wayward nuts, and sagging

with age, it is still holding scraps of life.

SOL25 April 22 Federal Cleaning Department

 

This is slice of my imagination
As I worry about the state of our country.

April 22, 2028

Dear Diary,

I haven't written lately, but I have been busy working phone banks and protest marches with a group of fellow Seniors who are trying to restore the right to vote for those accepting Medicare and Medicaid. I still hold hope that the Supreme Court will hear our protest, but time is ticking for so many of us now that doctors require 6 months of vitamin or leech therapy prior to any appointment. It is also hard for so many of my friends not that insulin is no longer available if your BMI is over 18 for females and 24 for males. If someone had told me back in the day that I would spend my senior years making protest Tic Toks videos, I would not have believed them, but here I am!

I think my fear is that they are coming after those of us who are older indirectly, now that there are no more illegals in this country.  I know that sounds silly, but it is what I think about when I lay in bed at night when I'm not thinking about the challenge of paying bills now that Social Security is reduced to the equivalent of 20 hours a week at minimum wage. I don't mean to digress, dear diary, but I just find the State Department News channel (SDN) so one sided.  I wish there were other options to get information other than X or Tic Toks?

Anyway, I got a text from my family last week and the good news is they are doing well in the 52nd state even if it is really cold every day.  They really are having an adventure to remember. I'd visit but when NYS stuck with congestion pricing, our NYS teacher retirements were frozen for 10 years. Plus if I moved to that cold new state, I'd probably never be able to come back!

Well, I really need to get some sleep as tomorrow I am headed with a group of fellow seniors to  meet with a job recruiter from The Federal Cleaning Department.  They seem to have some work-travel positions for women over 65, with higher BMIs. It might be a good way to see the world. They told us to meet at 7 AM and for security reasons, we should leave cell phones and ID at home. Sounds crazy, right? 

(hope to) See you soon!

Last Week

Last Week,

Was spring break, 

I pre-read papers, 

Provided students with guidance

Encouraged professional work.

Bought a new dress, new shoes                  

For a celebration of love

No dowdy great-aunt!

Geek Squad installed

Wall mounted television 

It is bright.

Unlike the dark news. 

10 prayers of thanks

My children, their children

Rode bikes and shot hoops 

Giving me memories not pictures.

At the end of the week,
A brilliant sunset 

A reminder us all 

Savor the moments.

Searching for Answers April 17

Way back in the last century (1999),

Google searchers were considered

"Cheating,"

Invalid, one-sided research, said

In that negative tone

Used with AI, these days.

Less than a generation later,

Google is a mega employer,

No longer a struggling start-up,

Who no longer provides employees

Free lunch and Maui Onion Chips, 

Fighting the label 

Monopoly. 

What is a monopoly? 

    in economics?

    in business?

    definition?

    in the gilded age?

Is Google a monopoly?

    Why is Google a monopoly?

    How is Google a monopoly?

    What makes Google a monopoly?

    Federal judge rules Google has a monopoly

All this news got me thinking,

What me might call Google spin offs 

(think Ma Bell and her Baby Bells back in the 70's)?

Gluten Free Cookies

At Ethical ELA today, we are challenged to write an etheree consisting of ten lines with each line’s syllabication increasing by one.   I wrote about preparing for the big eating holiday looming. 

If

You love

Someone who must

Not eat gluten flour

You will find a way

To make  yummy Italian Ricotta cookies

Substituting gluten flour for pricey almond flour

Smiling broadly at your accomplishment adapting the ingredients

So that everyone will be included in the gluttony

That we call holiday eating till stuffed without side effects. 

sol25 April 25 That Fall

This month, I've been preoccupied with the daily news; yet, I've found  strength in reading about how others have overcome challenges (Boat Baby).  Today, I'm writing about a challenging time. My mini-memoir.

Fall is still my favorite,

Yet, that year,

As the leaves put on their show,

My marriage ended,

My family disintegrated,

I welcomed grandchildren,

My home base became my car.

My days and nights were a blur

Newborn snuggles, interspersed with hospice care.  

As the seeds of spring took root,

The leaves put on that final show,

She sat in her rocker,

We watched Rachel Ray and talked. Then,

My mother passed in the night.

I sat quietly as her caregiver packed and left

Noticing the leaves giving up,

I sat quietly, reflecting as people came and went.

Watching the leaves falling slowly.

I sat quietly, reflecting, feeling exhausted as 

My sister emptied the pills.

Were the leaves grieving in their own way?

I sat quietly, reflecting, feeling exhausted and empty as

The leaves covered the ground.

Into A Good Book

Today's Ethical ELA prompt asks us to think about a place that feels like a safe harbor to you – and bring that space alive in a poem.   I could have written about beaches where the rhythm of the sea brings me great peace; however, if I am really honest my own safe haven has always been inside a book.

After a harrowing dentist visit,

The door opened,

The delicious reward,

They sat waiting patiently,

I escaped.

We moved again,

The emptiness, overwhelming,

The fears, plentiful,

Nancy Drew, Cherry Ames, The Bobbsey Twins 

Were waiting,

I rejoined my friends.

As a mom

The Lorax called,

The Little House on the Prairie cried out,

The Pitcher with the Glass Arm beckoned,

They were waiting for us,

I savored every word.

As a Meme (pronounced me-me)

The Little Blue Truck never fails,

Fancy Nancy has a lot to say,

Charlotte's Web, one more time.

So many books, so little time,

I know it will not last.

When the news is too much to bear,

The Women and Boat Baby, 

Something Lost and Something Gained 

Remind me that the tide will turn.

I slide under the covers and escape.

Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day

Over at Ethical ELA today we are remembering the Armenian Genocide—a systematic attempt to erase a people, a culture, and a history. But remembrance is not only about loss; it is also about survival, resilience, and honoring those who carried their stories forward. It is one of the many parts of history representing man's inhumanity towards man that is not always part of the curriculum. 

I believe it is impossible to eliminate the seeds of the human spirit. 

They tried to eradicate the resistance

Leaving a trail of blood, tears.

They ended, upended lives

Destroyed families, culture.

They tried to say it never happened

There was no targeted deportation.

There was no genocide. 

They did not know that history

Would remember and condemn their hate.

The seeds of the human spirit remain

In the souls of all those with Armenian blood

In the hearts of all those with empathy

In the spirit of all those who stop to remember.

He Made a Difference

Today's Ethical ELA prompt asked us to select a formative literacy memory. 

I started to write about students having that "ahha" moment of flight as they took off as readers.  Then I drafted a short post about decorating my first writer's notebook during a summer teacher workshop.  But, this still painful memory of learning to be a writer as a member of the Baby Boom generation kept surfacing, and I went with it. 

We packed into classrooms like sardines into tins,

Learned to listen and regurgitate information, ideas.

Endured multiple choice, one word responses.

We discussed an unpopular war,

Analyzed classic, modern literature

Graded by multiple choice, one word responses.

I was on top of the pile of students

Until in that first English Literature paper

Covered in red, emblazoned with See Me.

I swallowed my pride,

Wandered into the TA's office

Learned to write college-level responses.

In my defense, I had written only in a journal, 

Never defended my thoughts for a grade,

Never learned to be a writer. 

In his defense, he could have just written me off

Let me fail,

But, he was a teacher who made a difference.

That First To Us Place

In Ethical ELA today, we are encouraged to write for two minutes about a memory.

It's a long-ag-happy memory even if it was a basement apartment! 

Most people went up the stairs

Sunlight fueled their journeys.

We went below ground into a dark basement,
Where coin-operated washers hummed into the night

Where we never saw the sun rise or set,

Where we slept on the floor,

Yet, we learned to work together

Cooking, cleaning, loving,

In that first-to-us-place. 

Harbingers of Spring

Joanne Emery's at http://www.ethicalela.com encourages us to look closely at something in nature.  here.

It's an ironic twist, 

The early, forced ones arrive,

Rewards for donations

Fighting cancer, 

He always loved them.

While it is still too cold for flowers,

More emerge braving wind and rain

Bringing hope for spring.

Canary yellow blooms against the bleak landscape.

"Harbingers of spring," he would say,

"They will be gone too soon," I think,

Like him.

Depending on When You Met Me

In response to a prompt on Ethical ELA this morning,

Here is my much-too-long story on how things would be different

depending on when you met me!

https://www.ethicalela.com/depending-on-when-you-met-me/

Depending on when you met me

I might have been living in a trailer,

Sleeping with my sister, next to my brother's crib.

I might have been living across the street

From missiles poised to intercept Communism.

Or I might have been settled in

Selma learning, first hand, about

Prejudice, cruelty, and racism.

Depending on when you met me

I might have been protesting on a quad

Long hair blowing in the wind.

I might have been traversing the Beltway

Pretending to be a teacher, 30 first graders.

Or I might have been rejected after another

Interview with no reason.

I might have been a mom of little ones,

Struggling to manage laundry, dishes, the lawn

As well as all those students who depended on me.

I might have been the mom of bigger ones

Trying in vain to attend cold baseball games,

Baking while watching track meets, 

As well as drowning, in IEPs, lesson plans,

While writing curriculum maps.

Or I might have been juggling writing a dissertation

During college football season while care-giving

Parents and teaching both elementary students and 

Graduate students.

I might have been retired from some of my jobs,

Recovering from loss of a partner, plans, dreams.

I might have been

In a new state, new city, new home,

Guiding, supporting and cheer-leading a new crop

Of those pretending to be teachers.

I might have at the gym ,swimming, exercising

Embracing new friends

Thinking of protesting, again,

In shorter, grayer, hair!

SOL25 Presence

 

I have been following the amazing poets

At Ethical ELA.  Today, I am bravely sharing.

You knew it was coming

As you traveled the parkway,

As you passed the never-moving

Mack Truck,

As you 

Paused in the elevator

Yet, it would hit you

As you stepped into the hallway.

The smell.

Carefully selected,

Cooked for hours,

Sliced paper thin,

With repugnant mint jelly.

After a lifetime of birthing,

Raising her gaggle,

Struggling to survive farm-life,

Watching them disperse, 

It was all she had left for

The last grandchildren.

I think of her now

As I share Crayola & Gerald,

Embrace Pokeman & Minecraft,

Grateful that I have something left.

Someday, I hope,

I will leave mine

With memories

Not of leg-of-lamb,

But of my presence.

sol25 April 1 Real Life Intervened

 

I was going to start April

With a Foolish Slice,

Real Life Intervened

The sky was dark

The lights flickering

As I brewed Lemon Ginger.

The thunder was deafening

The lightning spell-binding

As I settled to read end-March slices.

I connected, commented, smiled,

Reflected, wondered, agreed,

Enjoyed the afterglow

As the storm raged outside

Until the lights and internet

Declared the month done.

No more reading

No more commenting

For now,

Yet, a sound and light show

Beckoning attention

Heralding April Poetry.