My Portable Place

The single place I love to write
Will travel with me day and night.
It’s with me when I’m in the car.
It’s with me when I’m at the bar.
And when I choose to sit a spell
The single place is there as well.
Then anytime I go away
My place is with me everyday.
In Timbuktu or Delaware
My special place is always there.

And yes, I need at my command
Some writing tools to keep on hand – 
A journal and a chosen pen,
A voice recorder now and then – 
To note before the thoughts erase
The words I author in my space.
(For at my age a thought is gone
As quickly as a rookie’s pawn,
So if I fail to make a note
Its chance of loss is not remote.)

In summary I always bring
My writing place to everything – 
A car, a bar, a picnic spot – 
It never leaves. (I write a lot.)
No need for comfy chairs or lights
No need for oceanic sites.
No need for certain rooms instead,
My favored place is in my head.


A co-winner in the Writer's Cramp prompt asking us to write about out favorite writing place. http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2042977-My-Portable-Place

The Memory Shall Be Ours*

I never had the chance to be

A daddy’s girl for years and years.

You passed away when I was three.

I still remember Mama’s tears.

Those early days it made no sense;

I didn’t care what people said.

A sacrifice at my expense –

I only knew my dad was dead.

But as I aged and reason grew,

I felt your strength; I understood.

To show respect I’d be like you.

I’d join the army when I could.

And so I did; I made a vow

To make the army my career

And when I did I thought somehow

I saw you grinning ear to ear.

As I progressed on through the ranks

I felt your presence evermore.

My goal in mind – to lead the flanks

Your memory to underscore.

How proud I was that autumn day

As I processed across the stage

To hear him “Sergeant Major” say

A thirst, at last, I could assuage.

As I reflect, my goal attained,

The loss I feel is still as great,

But through your absence I have gained,

Your spirit, Dad, to guide my fate.

This poem is based on two inspirations. One is the Writer’s Cramp prompt from today http://www.writing.com/main/forums/action/view/message_id/2826650/thread/1 asking the writers to use Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem for inspiration (see below) and the other is from a recent Story Corp episode I heard involving Sergeant Major Lisa Torello speaking with Tony Cistaro, the only survivor from the attack that killed her father.

http://storycorps.org/listen/tony-cistaro-and-lisa-torello-150522/

Decoration Day

Sleep, comrades, sleep and rest
On this Field of the Grounded Arms,
Where foes no more molest,
Nor sentry's shot alarms!

Ye have slept on the ground before,
And started to your feet
At the cannon's sudden roar,
Or the drum's redoubling beat.

But in this camp of Death
No sound your slumber breaks;
Here is no fevered breath,
No wound that bleeds and aches.

All is repose and peace,
Untrampled lies the sod;
The shouts of battle cease,
It is the Truce of God!

Rest, comrades, rest and sleep!
The thoughts of men shall be
As sentinels to keep
Your rest from danger free.

Your silent tents of green
We deck with fragrant flowers
Yours has the suffering been,
*The memory shall be ours.

-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Limericks Using the End Word Roots

In the process of earnest pursuits
To search out and learn of my roots
I discovered my kin
Was embedded in sin.
I'm hoping genetics dilutes.

*********

I'm confused by his lofty pursuits
Hobnobbing at meetings with suits
As the boy was a player.
"But his dad is the mayor."
I guess he was backed by his roots.

*********

Said a carrot to tropical fruits,
"For sight we're the favored recruits."
But he kiwi replied,
"We've got C on our side.
So there! Now go back to your roots!"

https://www.facebook.com/madkane?fref=nf

Bad Kitty!

"Dear Cat I beseech you

Allow me to leave.

My children will miss me;

My dear wife will grieve.

My body is lean

And my stature is small

I’m certain myself

Won’t sustain you at all.”

“My mouse, I applaud you

For stating your plea.

How brave of you, sir,

For flattering me.

For thinking I’m caring

And willing to chat.

You seem to forget,

My dear mouse, I’m a cat.”

“Perhaps, my fair feline,

Perhaps if you’d wait

A much larger portion

Will walk through this gate.

Or if you’d allow me

To show you the way

I know where a large pack

Of prairie dogs play.

They’re fat from the grasslands,

Quadruple my size.

A meal for your stomach

As big as your eyes.”

“You think me a fool

You mus musculus* beast.

I am up for a snack

And not wanting a feast!

And of course I know well

Where those rodents reside.

Stop looking around.

It is too late to hide!”

“But think of my children;

Please think of my wife.

I beg of you Kitten

Please spare me my….”

*This is the species of a house mouse.

Yesterday's Writer's Cramp prompt from Writing.com was to write a story or poem that was all dialogue with no tags.

To Lady C

To follow your prompt
What words can I say?
You put up a task
That I’m up tp today.
A difficult job
But I’m wanting to play.
How long will I last
Without going astray?

My Lady, I ask 
What dawns upon you
To bid of us authors
To labor on through
Avoiding a symbol
By calling taboo
A mark to occur
Most commonly too!

How galling a task,
I might say a sin.
Would Frost opt to try
With topics so thin?
To handcuff my thought
To slow down my spin
You truly must know
What hardship I’m in.

But forging on through,
Though fabric is light,
I did what I could
To finish my fight
I trust you don’t mind,
With options so slight,
I stop with this bunk now
And call it a night.



This is a total nonsensical rhyme for http://www.writing.com/main/forums/action/view/message_id/2824823/thread/1. The prompt was to write a lipogram where we had to avoid the letter e.

Make Me a Double

Writer's Cramp winner, May 17, 2015

Make Me a Double

In two-thousand seventy-two
While looking for something to do
I noticed an ad
For the most recent fad
Displayed in my hologram view.

“With no flying patterns to clear
And no regulations to fear
Why purchase a drone
When we’ll sell you a clone?
The best selling product this year!

“An investment you’ll want to explore
Though it might cost a little bit more.
With the workload you’ll share
There is naught can compare
And delivery’s right to your door!

“The instructions are easy as pie.
(Another good reason to buy.)
Its computerized brain
Is the kind you can train
Come see us and give it a try!”

So, of course by the end of the day
They had gotten my clone underway.
It is worth all I spent
(Which was double my rent)
If my clone can do work while I play.

http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2041991-Make-Me-a-Double

Some Sunday morning limericks - the rhyming word is hound

This was the winning limerick for the week!

https://www.facebook.com/colleen.murphy.393/posts/10152998736509315?notif_t=like

For searching they brought out the hound

“The best-sniffing hunt dog around!”

But instead of the punk

It uncovered a skunk

And the stench from its spray was profound!

********

We went to a breeder I found

And purchased a highly-bred hound.

It had issues galore

And we paid so much more.

Our next dog will come from the pound.

********

Though in practice I don’t like to hound

There are moments I have to, I’ve found.

Like when neighbors complain

Of our jungle terrain
I feel like I have to expound.

https://www.facebook.com/madkane?fref=nf&pnref=story

I have been participating in Mad Kane's Limerick-off for a number of years now. I figure I may as well post them on my blog. With school still in session and no one pushing me to write, my creative juices are not flowing as well these days.