"Nothing on Earth so beautiful as the final haul on Halloween night." ~Steve Almond
"One need not be a chamber to be haunted; One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place." ~Emily Dickinson
"Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. " ~ William Shakespeare
Today is Halloween. I have always loved Halloween. I have always had someone to dress up in a costume . When I was young I dressed Reuben and Martha up in all kinds of crazy things. My Favorite for them was a fat man for Reuben and a little old woman for Martha. I did dress her as a fat man too every once in a while. Reuben just flat refused though when I wanted him to be the old woman.. Go figure?! If you have a small child and no costume you will never go wrong with a fat midget. I promise you that everyone will love it.. You might win a prize even. Plus you will laugh yourself silly. And think of the pictures you can show to the kids later. Every one of my kids have been fat man/midget. Even the girls. My boys all said no to the old woman thing too.. Go figure again!? A few times I dressed a few of My own up as Fat men and we looked like the circus had come to town.
One Halloween in particular I remember that Martha wanted to be a cat. I already had her fixed up in leotards and had made a tail and pinned to the back of her black body shirt. I had already sneaked Mary's eye liner and drawn her whiskers. She was perfect. I had tried to get Reuben to be grandma and wear her bonnet.. he said "NO!" I had tried to get him to be a pirate.. ... He said "NO!" So I went into Daddy's closet and found his blue plaid walking shorts. and a green striped shirt and grabbed a couple of pillows. I found a straw hat in the laundry room and got a neck tie from behind Daddy's bathroom door. In just a few minutes I had created a perfectly round smiling fat midget man. The first of his kind.. And what do you Know, Reuben said " YES!"
Miss Sylvia across the street screamed with laughter till she finally said she had to go change her clothes. Mr Olin gave us a dollar for making her wet her pants. I of course took care of all the money as usual. Mrs. Hutto dragged him for her husband to see and they filled our sacks with candy. Aunt Lucy just shook her head and tried not to smile. " Y'all gonna get a whipping messing around with your Daddy's clothes." she said. I saw the twinkle in her eye though. Mr Harold made Miss Guida give us two popcorn balls each. Everywhere we trick er treated that night they herded Reuben inside so someone who either couldn't or wouldn't come outside, could get a look at him. We all made a great haul of candy that night. And if I had a small child this year I would be walking down the street with a fat /midget man and a sack full of candy. Have fun with your children today. Even if you don't celebrate Halloween you can still just spend time with the kids. Play dress up with them sometimes. Let the kid inside of you be free just for a short time. Enjoy yourself..
Have a great day!
Patsy
Spooky Night
Oh me Oh My a ghost
no ship but I see coming a pirate
their breath the scent of candy
away they scramble with frightening cries
Look across the moon flies a witch
and dangled from it's web a spider!
a huge black and spotted spider
watch as it wiggles towards the ghost
swatted now by the broom of the littlest witch
gobbled down by the skinny pirate
way down in the swamp an animal cries
here all the cries are for candy
bowls and cauldrons filled with candy
webs hanging low woven by a fat plastic spider.
oh No a pink clad princess cries
to a hangman and a green ghost
Run away screams the pirate
as from the darkness flies a blond witch
she's skinny for a witch
we should stuff her with candy
we could sell her to the pirate
or feed her to the spider
give her to me moans the ghost
we laugh at her cries
we cackle at the echo of her cries
we admire the warted nose of the witch
what a pitiful ghost
begging for more candy
trembling before the huge spider
holding tight to the hand of his sister pirate
Pirate after treasure less Pirate
all afraid of the haunting cries
squatting low under the web tangled spider
keeping their eye on the witch
clutching their sacks and buckets of candy
daringly unafraid of the ghost
This years best was a Pirate, the scariest was a witch
our ears ached with the cries for more and more candy
Till the only spooks beneath the spider on our porch, was our own little ghost.
~a sestina~
written by: Patricia Sawyer
10-12-2008
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
I dream I am writing....
"If I fall asleep with a pen in my hand, don't remove it - I might be writing in my dreams."
~ Danzae Pace
"Two phrases for you to see what you can do with Green sweater, and rocking chair." ~Anonymous
"If you need some more words...when you have time try these"... ~ Sunshine
~ computer, laugh, forty, April, late, Denver, sweet, children, weight
I love this first quote.. Sometimes I dream I am writing and I Jump from bed and try to remember what I was writing in my dream. I have started keeping a pen and paper next to my bed. Tonight I am sharing two more poems. The first is from the word prompts Green sweater and rocking chair sent to me anonymously. The second is from a word list by one of my most faithful readers, sunshine. I hope you enjoy these two poems. The first one is also acrostic. Reading down the edge, the first letters also have a message. Please enjoy! Have a great day!
Patsy
I Love You Daddy!
Daylight almost always found you
~ Bible in hand rocking by the fire.
Already you had done more than some
~ men do in a day and were about to leave for work.
Doing the work of two men Half your age
~ a factory slave for most of your life.
Daring to marry a young 'un they said wouldn't stay
~ staying together to raise eight. Praying us grown.
You left to soon you know. That Sunday before day
~ Bible at hand, Sitting in your chair. One Last I love you.
I wanted to tell you so many things.
~ I wanted to ask you more questions.
Longing for you. Sometimes I smell your cigar
~ and I feel that you are near.
One of the cool breezes I feel touch me.
~ If I turned would you be there?
Very Likely wearing that Dark green sweater
~ that Mama knitted and you wore so often.
Every day I think of you rocking
~ eyes sometimes closed but not asleep.
Yes, I know you loved every one of us.
~ your children, your brothers, sister, Wife.
One day, we are taught, that we will meet again
~ in Heaven where some circles will be broken.
Until then we miss you Daddy. Mama is lonely
~ and I just wanted to say Daddy I love you!
Written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-16-2008
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fainthearted
Fainthearted need not apply
I read from the want adds
I was wanting a change
A diversion, adventure.
Forty pounds over weight.
Sweet children all grown.
I couldn't even make me laugh.
Nothing but a baseball game
on the box across the room.
Another Lonely woman
sitting in front of the computer.
My home town lie of Denver.
The job I just don't have.
On here I can be anyone.
From anywhere. Any place.
I can even say my early is late.
I can be April or May or Lisa Marie.
Or another girl outside your gate.
Fainthearted?Oh no! Not I.
But don't expect an application
from this bored old gal.
Cause I ain't looking to be used,
abused, stolen from or die!
Written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-28-2008
~ Danzae Pace
"Two phrases for you to see what you can do with Green sweater, and rocking chair." ~Anonymous
"If you need some more words...when you have time try these"... ~ Sunshine
~ computer, laugh, forty, April, late, Denver, sweet, children, weight
I love this first quote.. Sometimes I dream I am writing and I Jump from bed and try to remember what I was writing in my dream. I have started keeping a pen and paper next to my bed. Tonight I am sharing two more poems. The first is from the word prompts Green sweater and rocking chair sent to me anonymously. The second is from a word list by one of my most faithful readers, sunshine. I hope you enjoy these two poems. The first one is also acrostic. Reading down the edge, the first letters also have a message. Please enjoy! Have a great day!
Patsy
I Love You Daddy!
Daylight almost always found you
~ Bible in hand rocking by the fire.
Already you had done more than some
~ men do in a day and were about to leave for work.
Doing the work of two men Half your age
~ a factory slave for most of your life.
Daring to marry a young 'un they said wouldn't stay
~ staying together to raise eight. Praying us grown.
You left to soon you know. That Sunday before day
~ Bible at hand, Sitting in your chair. One Last I love you.
I wanted to tell you so many things.
~ I wanted to ask you more questions.
Longing for you. Sometimes I smell your cigar
~ and I feel that you are near.
One of the cool breezes I feel touch me.
~ If I turned would you be there?
Very Likely wearing that Dark green sweater
~ that Mama knitted and you wore so often.
Every day I think of you rocking
~ eyes sometimes closed but not asleep.
Yes, I know you loved every one of us.
~ your children, your brothers, sister, Wife.
One day, we are taught, that we will meet again
~ in Heaven where some circles will be broken.
Until then we miss you Daddy. Mama is lonely
~ and I just wanted to say Daddy I love you!
Written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-16-2008
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fainthearted
Fainthearted need not apply
I read from the want adds
I was wanting a change
A diversion, adventure.
Forty pounds over weight.
Sweet children all grown.
I couldn't even make me laugh.
Nothing but a baseball game
on the box across the room.
Another Lonely woman
sitting in front of the computer.
My home town lie of Denver.
The job I just don't have.
On here I can be anyone.
From anywhere. Any place.
I can even say my early is late.
I can be April or May or Lisa Marie.
Or another girl outside your gate.
Fainthearted?Oh no! Not I.
But don't expect an application
from this bored old gal.
Cause I ain't looking to be used,
abused, stolen from or die!
Written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-28-2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
The Children of Uganda
“The children of Uganda are asking for survival, they are asking for peace.”
~ from the Invisible Children documentary
"They abducted all five of us boys at the same time. I was the fifth one. . . . We were told by the LRA not to think about home, about our mother or father. If we did, then they would kill us. Better to think now that I am a soldier fighting to liberate the country. We were all tied up and attached to one another in a row. After we were tied up, they started to beat us ; they beat us up with sticks.” ~from a twelve year old child in Uganda who was abducted
“If a person dreams alone, it remains nothing but a dream. But when a people dream together, that dream can become a reality." ~ African Proverb
Today's Poem is for the children of Uganda who have been, for many years, surviving every day life in a war torn world. Many of them were kidnapped from their families and forced to become tiny soldiers for "This Lord’s Resistance Army" led by Joseph Kony. For years war has raged in Uganda. The Resistance army against the government. The government promised it's people protection but found itself to be helpless when It came to the actual Protecting of it's people. War in itself is bad, but this conflict has been going on for 20 years with no resolve in sight. Thousands of children have been robbed of childhood and, in many cases, of life itself. Boys and girls are turned into ruthless killers who no longer feel, but are numb inside, and their souls have become seared by the awful things they have seen and have been forced to take part in. Children 10 years old are taught to kill, often beginning with their own families. Others are killed and a child is allowed to live and then the child is ordered to kill to stay alive. The children who do escape, will never be the same again.
Some kind of peace has existed in the North of Uganda for about two years now , but the scars of war still remain where so much anger and violence have been for over 20 years. Over 30,000 children were abducted from villages and schools. Kidnapped children were brainwashed to kill, rape, torture, often times their own families. Rage and fear ruled there for many years, where 2 1/2 million people are refugees in their own country, living in crowded camps, packed into pitiful housing, lack of farming space, lack of hospitals, doctors and so much more that we take for granted each day. We don't realize how lucky we are. Our children cry out for new clothes and fancy cars. Those children cry out for Life. Please remember these children in your thoughts, your dreams and your prayers. Their are many different organizations who collect money for the needs of the surviving youth . Give if you can! Be thankful! Have a wonderful day.
Patsy
http://www.childrenburdencentre.org/partnership.html
I Dare to Dream
Sometimes I dare to dream
of grasslands where
we ran free. Laughing.
Playing together before
the fall of darkness.
Singing with our brothers
the songs of children.
Happy songs. Life songs.
Sometimes I dare to dream
of my mama's face.
A smiling face. Trusting
me to tend the babies
or to go to the well
for water. Sending me
to do things for her.
Her dark eyes following.
Sometimes I dare to dream
Of sleeping in my family's hut.
Of sleeping at night instead of running
and hiding from those who would
snatch me from my family's care.
The ones who would demand I kill or be killed.
Who would torture even the smallest.
Our stolen childhood their greatest joy.
Sometimes I dare to dream
of an education. Worthwhile
things to teach to the young ones,
instead of the things
I have been forced to learn.
How to live and not kill.
How to love without hate.
How to touch without shame.
Sometimes I dare to dream
that I am still just a girl
that I have never killed another
that I have never bit my lip
to keep the screams inside
as I am taken again and again
passed from soldier to soldier
as a prize they are forced to receive.
Sometimes I dare to dream
But I always wake up
still here in my war torn land
where the lives of children
are gobbled up by the twisted
souls of evil men who cherish not
the laughter of the little ones.
Who would reach into our heads
and take away even our dreams.
Yes, Sometimes, I dare to dream!
written by:Patricia Sawyer
10-14-2008
~ from the Invisible Children documentary
"They abducted all five of us boys at the same time. I was the fifth one. . . . We were told by the LRA not to think about home, about our mother or father. If we did, then they would kill us. Better to think now that I am a soldier fighting to liberate the country. We were all tied up and attached to one another in a row. After we were tied up, they started to beat us ; they beat us up with sticks.” ~from a twelve year old child in Uganda who was abducted
“If a person dreams alone, it remains nothing but a dream. But when a people dream together, that dream can become a reality." ~ African Proverb
Today's Poem is for the children of Uganda who have been, for many years, surviving every day life in a war torn world. Many of them were kidnapped from their families and forced to become tiny soldiers for "This Lord’s Resistance Army" led by Joseph Kony. For years war has raged in Uganda. The Resistance army against the government. The government promised it's people protection but found itself to be helpless when It came to the actual Protecting of it's people. War in itself is bad, but this conflict has been going on for 20 years with no resolve in sight. Thousands of children have been robbed of childhood and, in many cases, of life itself. Boys and girls are turned into ruthless killers who no longer feel, but are numb inside, and their souls have become seared by the awful things they have seen and have been forced to take part in. Children 10 years old are taught to kill, often beginning with their own families. Others are killed and a child is allowed to live and then the child is ordered to kill to stay alive. The children who do escape, will never be the same again.
Some kind of peace has existed in the North of Uganda for about two years now , but the scars of war still remain where so much anger and violence have been for over 20 years. Over 30,000 children were abducted from villages and schools. Kidnapped children were brainwashed to kill, rape, torture, often times their own families. Rage and fear ruled there for many years, where 2 1/2 million people are refugees in their own country, living in crowded camps, packed into pitiful housing, lack of farming space, lack of hospitals, doctors and so much more that we take for granted each day. We don't realize how lucky we are. Our children cry out for new clothes and fancy cars. Those children cry out for Life. Please remember these children in your thoughts, your dreams and your prayers. Their are many different organizations who collect money for the needs of the surviving youth . Give if you can! Be thankful! Have a wonderful day.
Patsy
http://www.childrenburdencentre.org/partnership.html
I Dare to Dream
Sometimes I dare to dream
of grasslands where
we ran free. Laughing.
Playing together before
the fall of darkness.
Singing with our brothers
the songs of children.
Happy songs. Life songs.
Sometimes I dare to dream
of my mama's face.
A smiling face. Trusting
me to tend the babies
or to go to the well
for water. Sending me
to do things for her.
Her dark eyes following.
Sometimes I dare to dream
Of sleeping in my family's hut.
Of sleeping at night instead of running
and hiding from those who would
snatch me from my family's care.
The ones who would demand I kill or be killed.
Who would torture even the smallest.
Our stolen childhood their greatest joy.
Sometimes I dare to dream
of an education. Worthwhile
things to teach to the young ones,
instead of the things
I have been forced to learn.
How to live and not kill.
How to love without hate.
How to touch without shame.
Sometimes I dare to dream
that I am still just a girl
that I have never killed another
that I have never bit my lip
to keep the screams inside
as I am taken again and again
passed from soldier to soldier
as a prize they are forced to receive.
Sometimes I dare to dream
But I always wake up
still here in my war torn land
where the lives of children
are gobbled up by the twisted
souls of evil men who cherish not
the laughter of the little ones.
Who would reach into our heads
and take away even our dreams.
Yes, Sometimes, I dare to dream!
written by:Patricia Sawyer
10-14-2008
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
How this Old House became My Home!
“He is the happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace in his home”
~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (German Playwright, Poet)
"The best way to keep children at home is to make the home atmosphere pleasant, and let the air out of the tires.” ~ Dorothy Parker
“A house is made of walls and beams; a home is built with love and dreams.” ~ Unknown
August 1992~
I was so ready to move. I never thought I'd ever want to move. But here I was hoping and praying and planning to move. I had no plans for where. But I knew that there had to be a house somewhere that we could find. Lord Knows we had already lived in half of the rentals in Barnwell. The Huggins' had made our stay with them wonderful. But I was ready to move. A fresh start for me and the kids. A new page in our books. This time I was ready.
I brought home boxes from the liquor store, Small really for moving with, But perfect for the little ones to help pack with. And Pack they did. They packed toys and books and their little shoes. Then they unpacked and packed and unpacked again. Emily was two and Cooper was four. We had been in the Huggins house since right after Emily was born. To them the idea of moving was a game. but they played it well. They packed for days. They packed through the end of the school year, and unpacked between Em's visits to the cancer clinic Columbia. They packed and Unpacked all their stuff a million times right on through the lawyers and the divorce, they packed.
Anthony knew I wanted to move. He and I had talked. He really liked where we already lived.
He liked his room and the pond out back. He even liked Mrs. and Mr Huggins. But, he knew a move would do me good too. He and I would play Mario at night while the babies slept and we'd talk. He and I hadn't packed anything yet But we knew we were going to move. I was ready and he was Anthony, so he was, as always, ready to do what ever I needed.
The old blue house looked like someone had tossed it there crooked and tilted. Some boards missing on the side and the door missing a hinge. I wanted to cry as we sat there looking at it but I wouldn't dare do that in front of my Kids. I had searched Barnwell over for a house. It didn't have to be a big house. It didn't have to be a fancy house. But we couldn't move with out a house.
And I was at the end of my rope. I was down to the last known empty house. And parked here I could see why. I saw the look of Horror On Anthony's face and almost drove away. But I had lived in some pretty bad houses. And I knew that a lot of things could be fixed.
"Come on", I said. "We ain't seeing it really from here." "We need to see the inside". I didn't figure it would be locked. Anthony ran up the busted block steps and called back that it was open. I pulled the Little ones from the car seats, standing first Cooper, then Emily on the ground. "Go get Bubba", I told Cooper. He ran off up the steps reaching for Anthony to lift him over the top one that was just a row of ragged busted blocks.
Taking Emily by the hand I climbed the steps myself. Handing her over to Anthony at the top as I muttered under my breath to God or to who ever might be listening.
" Come on Now! Ya Know I need a house!" Then in a softer tone.
" Please God, my kids need a home!"
"Mama, it has wood heat!" Anthony yelled from inside as I stepped into the kitchen. I couldn't see him but knew he was somewhere close by with Cooper. Emily was right there with me so I was able to relax and look at the awfulness of this, the very last empty house. Wood heat would never do. Emily wouldn't be able to handle the fumes. I could see that the kitchen was terrible. That's where I stood open mouthed and fighting tears.
"The bath tub is Busted, and the house goes all the way round this wall." Anthony said appearing in a different door than the one he left in. " Not much to see." he added. I knew he hated it. I knew I hated it too. But I was determined to move. I was going to give it a good looking over.
"HOME!" Emily yelled waving out the window. " In a minute!" I answered. "HOME!" she yelled again pulling Cooper along behind her. "HOME" they screamed together. Anthony tried to shush her.. "Not Now!" he said. "mama's thinking, We'll go in a minute."
It was all I could do not to break down and cry right then. My youngest yelling for home and here I stood in my last hope. And this house was hopeless. The tub had a hole in it. I had looked all four rooms over and to be honest I couldn't tell what was supposed to be in any room other than the kitchen. Four square rooms. All having slanted , sinking floors. Hardwood by the looks of things under the dirt but they were sinking and slanted. the walls looked like they folded the floors right up along the walls halfway and finished it out with cardboard. I know that it wasn't cardboard, but that's what it appeared to be there in the Late, Thursday, afternoon light.
"Take the babies outside" I told Anthony. "I'll be out in a minute." I added, hoping he couldn't see my shoulders shaking. I was crying. I hadn't cried in a long time. But this house had made me cry. I felt sorry for the house. I really did. To be so un-loved. So un-cared for, un-wanted. I really felt sorry for the house. I understood it's pain. Now I know that sounds crazy. I even thought I was crazy for a minute myself. But I knew that I could never and would never live in this house. This lonely old Blue house with wood heat and a busted tub was not to be our home. " Jesus", I fussed at myself. "what are you thinking! You know better than this. You have a garden Planted.. You aren't going to give up your squash and butter beans for this.... " I shook my head and laughed at myself..
"EMILY?" I heard Anthony call. "Where are you going? COME BACK HERE!" "Home, Home, Home!" she sang back at us as I stepped out onto the busted block steps. "Home, Home Home!" Cooper joined in running to catch her as she went around the side of the house and disappeared into a tangle of vines and brambles. "Home, Home, Home,HOOOOOMME!" they sang as Anthony and I fought our bodies through the bushes to see the two of them climbing steps to a Porch.
I bet I said Oh shit a hundred times as Anthony ran to get them and I fought to untangle my hair from the thorns of a popcorn tree. I just knew that they had disturbed some body. I Just knew some body would throw open the door and demand to know why my three children were on their porch. But none of that happened. My hair untangled just as if the tree turned me loose. Emily Threw her head back and closed her eyes. Her, not quiet red, curls bobbing in the hot August wind.. She began to spin around and sing, "Home, Home, Home." Cooper Jumped off the porch and ran around the side of this hidden house screaming like a demon. "HOME ! HOME ! MINE AND EMMYSHUE HOME!"
I stood in total awe. Had two of my babies lost their ever loving minds at the same time. Anthony hustled to catch Coop and I caught a hold of Emily and started to drag her away hoping that who-ever lived here was gone for the day.
Anthony was quiet on the way home. He kept shaking his head as if he was convincing himself that I wouldn't move them to that awful, awful house. He had helped plant the garden and I knew he didn't want to leave that behind. He had found him a syrup tree in the ditch and dragged it home. He wondered if syrup would even grow at that old ugly blue house. He would move if I said so But I knew by the "Holder" set of his jaw that he wasn't going to make it easy for me.
I waited a few days before I called Mr. Williams. I had decided that if he would fix a few things I could make it in the ugly house. The steps and the tub were first on the list. Would he buy paint. And the broken windows, Those of course, had to be repaired. I had my list all figured out. The house was still awful, But I still felt sorry for it. And it was close to the hospital. That made it a plus for me.
Mr. Williams wouldn't buy paint. He told me standing behind his lonely old house. He said people always told him they would paint.. But didn't. He would fix the windows. But he wasn't putting in a new tub. "In fact" he added "maybe, I better not rent to a single Mother at all. Y'all are always too much trouble!" "But Ya might check with the man Up there" he said pointing toward the road to an office, " he owns the old place next door."
"Home" I heard my babies singing in my mind. "Home, Home, Home!" I remembered Emily spinning in the sun. "HOME FOR ME AND EMMMMMMY SHUEEEEEE!" I thought of Cooper screaming. And I it was then that I knew.
It wasn't easy to find. And believe me the battle wasn't won. Mr Griner wasn't real interested in a single Mom either. It took me days to convince him. Then he wasn't about to let anyone move into his property until it had been properly inspected and gone over with a fine tooth comb. He had to have two months rent and a security deposit too. But I came up with them. I sold and saved. If I didn't need it, I sold it. If this house had one, I sold mine. And we all Packed. And I prayed. I prayed I could afford it. I prayed the heat would work. And we packed!
I've been here for years now. With Anthony's syrup tree and Grandma Blacks rose bush and so many plants that we dragged along with us. I was so ready to move. I just wanted a fresh start. I was just looking for a house.
The children are all grown Now. Mine and the ones that came later with Dave. All the children who have come and gone. And believe me we know all the things wrong with our house. The leaky roof and the heat that sometimes doesn't. But No matter to me. Because every time I leave, I miss it. And every time I come up the driveway and spot the thorny tree that held my Hair... I am reminded, Reminded of children singing and Little girls spinning in a hot August sun. I am reminded of Houses I lived in before and all the good things about them. And the bad things too. But Most of all I am reminded That The Lord does bless me. How he showed my Babies a way through the brambles. And gave them words to sing. I am always reminded of every good time this house saw us through. I am reminded that we are never alone... I am reminded! And that is how this old house became my Home!
October 2008~
I love this place. I swing at night in my swing chair and feel at peace. My Journey to find HOME was a long one. Finally, I feel as if this is home. I have felt it ever since I first scrambled through the brambles in search of my youngest two. I hope that where ever you are tonight you too are at peace. Have a great night!
Patsy
~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (German Playwright, Poet)
"The best way to keep children at home is to make the home atmosphere pleasant, and let the air out of the tires.” ~ Dorothy Parker
“A house is made of walls and beams; a home is built with love and dreams.” ~ Unknown
August 1992~
I was so ready to move. I never thought I'd ever want to move. But here I was hoping and praying and planning to move. I had no plans for where. But I knew that there had to be a house somewhere that we could find. Lord Knows we had already lived in half of the rentals in Barnwell. The Huggins' had made our stay with them wonderful. But I was ready to move. A fresh start for me and the kids. A new page in our books. This time I was ready.
I brought home boxes from the liquor store, Small really for moving with, But perfect for the little ones to help pack with. And Pack they did. They packed toys and books and their little shoes. Then they unpacked and packed and unpacked again. Emily was two and Cooper was four. We had been in the Huggins house since right after Emily was born. To them the idea of moving was a game. but they played it well. They packed for days. They packed through the end of the school year, and unpacked between Em's visits to the cancer clinic Columbia. They packed and Unpacked all their stuff a million times right on through the lawyers and the divorce, they packed.
Anthony knew I wanted to move. He and I had talked. He really liked where we already lived.
He liked his room and the pond out back. He even liked Mrs. and Mr Huggins. But, he knew a move would do me good too. He and I would play Mario at night while the babies slept and we'd talk. He and I hadn't packed anything yet But we knew we were going to move. I was ready and he was Anthony, so he was, as always, ready to do what ever I needed.
The old blue house looked like someone had tossed it there crooked and tilted. Some boards missing on the side and the door missing a hinge. I wanted to cry as we sat there looking at it but I wouldn't dare do that in front of my Kids. I had searched Barnwell over for a house. It didn't have to be a big house. It didn't have to be a fancy house. But we couldn't move with out a house.
And I was at the end of my rope. I was down to the last known empty house. And parked here I could see why. I saw the look of Horror On Anthony's face and almost drove away. But I had lived in some pretty bad houses. And I knew that a lot of things could be fixed.
"Come on", I said. "We ain't seeing it really from here." "We need to see the inside". I didn't figure it would be locked. Anthony ran up the busted block steps and called back that it was open. I pulled the Little ones from the car seats, standing first Cooper, then Emily on the ground. "Go get Bubba", I told Cooper. He ran off up the steps reaching for Anthony to lift him over the top one that was just a row of ragged busted blocks.
Taking Emily by the hand I climbed the steps myself. Handing her over to Anthony at the top as I muttered under my breath to God or to who ever might be listening.
" Come on Now! Ya Know I need a house!" Then in a softer tone.
" Please God, my kids need a home!"
"Mama, it has wood heat!" Anthony yelled from inside as I stepped into the kitchen. I couldn't see him but knew he was somewhere close by with Cooper. Emily was right there with me so I was able to relax and look at the awfulness of this, the very last empty house. Wood heat would never do. Emily wouldn't be able to handle the fumes. I could see that the kitchen was terrible. That's where I stood open mouthed and fighting tears.
"The bath tub is Busted, and the house goes all the way round this wall." Anthony said appearing in a different door than the one he left in. " Not much to see." he added. I knew he hated it. I knew I hated it too. But I was determined to move. I was going to give it a good looking over.
"HOME!" Emily yelled waving out the window. " In a minute!" I answered. "HOME!" she yelled again pulling Cooper along behind her. "HOME" they screamed together. Anthony tried to shush her.. "Not Now!" he said. "mama's thinking, We'll go in a minute."
It was all I could do not to break down and cry right then. My youngest yelling for home and here I stood in my last hope. And this house was hopeless. The tub had a hole in it. I had looked all four rooms over and to be honest I couldn't tell what was supposed to be in any room other than the kitchen. Four square rooms. All having slanted , sinking floors. Hardwood by the looks of things under the dirt but they were sinking and slanted. the walls looked like they folded the floors right up along the walls halfway and finished it out with cardboard. I know that it wasn't cardboard, but that's what it appeared to be there in the Late, Thursday, afternoon light.
"Take the babies outside" I told Anthony. "I'll be out in a minute." I added, hoping he couldn't see my shoulders shaking. I was crying. I hadn't cried in a long time. But this house had made me cry. I felt sorry for the house. I really did. To be so un-loved. So un-cared for, un-wanted. I really felt sorry for the house. I understood it's pain. Now I know that sounds crazy. I even thought I was crazy for a minute myself. But I knew that I could never and would never live in this house. This lonely old Blue house with wood heat and a busted tub was not to be our home. " Jesus", I fussed at myself. "what are you thinking! You know better than this. You have a garden Planted.. You aren't going to give up your squash and butter beans for this.... " I shook my head and laughed at myself..
"EMILY?" I heard Anthony call. "Where are you going? COME BACK HERE!" "Home, Home, Home!" she sang back at us as I stepped out onto the busted block steps. "Home, Home Home!" Cooper joined in running to catch her as she went around the side of the house and disappeared into a tangle of vines and brambles. "Home, Home, Home,HOOOOOMME!" they sang as Anthony and I fought our bodies through the bushes to see the two of them climbing steps to a Porch.
I bet I said Oh shit a hundred times as Anthony ran to get them and I fought to untangle my hair from the thorns of a popcorn tree. I just knew that they had disturbed some body. I Just knew some body would throw open the door and demand to know why my three children were on their porch. But none of that happened. My hair untangled just as if the tree turned me loose. Emily Threw her head back and closed her eyes. Her, not quiet red, curls bobbing in the hot August wind.. She began to spin around and sing, "Home, Home, Home." Cooper Jumped off the porch and ran around the side of this hidden house screaming like a demon. "HOME ! HOME ! MINE AND EMMYSHUE HOME!"
I stood in total awe. Had two of my babies lost their ever loving minds at the same time. Anthony hustled to catch Coop and I caught a hold of Emily and started to drag her away hoping that who-ever lived here was gone for the day.
Anthony was quiet on the way home. He kept shaking his head as if he was convincing himself that I wouldn't move them to that awful, awful house. He had helped plant the garden and I knew he didn't want to leave that behind. He had found him a syrup tree in the ditch and dragged it home. He wondered if syrup would even grow at that old ugly blue house. He would move if I said so But I knew by the "Holder" set of his jaw that he wasn't going to make it easy for me.
I waited a few days before I called Mr. Williams. I had decided that if he would fix a few things I could make it in the ugly house. The steps and the tub were first on the list. Would he buy paint. And the broken windows, Those of course, had to be repaired. I had my list all figured out. The house was still awful, But I still felt sorry for it. And it was close to the hospital. That made it a plus for me.
Mr. Williams wouldn't buy paint. He told me standing behind his lonely old house. He said people always told him they would paint.. But didn't. He would fix the windows. But he wasn't putting in a new tub. "In fact" he added "maybe, I better not rent to a single Mother at all. Y'all are always too much trouble!" "But Ya might check with the man Up there" he said pointing toward the road to an office, " he owns the old place next door."
"Home" I heard my babies singing in my mind. "Home, Home, Home!" I remembered Emily spinning in the sun. "HOME FOR ME AND EMMMMMMY SHUEEEEEE!" I thought of Cooper screaming. And I it was then that I knew.
It wasn't easy to find. And believe me the battle wasn't won. Mr Griner wasn't real interested in a single Mom either. It took me days to convince him. Then he wasn't about to let anyone move into his property until it had been properly inspected and gone over with a fine tooth comb. He had to have two months rent and a security deposit too. But I came up with them. I sold and saved. If I didn't need it, I sold it. If this house had one, I sold mine. And we all Packed. And I prayed. I prayed I could afford it. I prayed the heat would work. And we packed!
I've been here for years now. With Anthony's syrup tree and Grandma Blacks rose bush and so many plants that we dragged along with us. I was so ready to move. I just wanted a fresh start. I was just looking for a house.
The children are all grown Now. Mine and the ones that came later with Dave. All the children who have come and gone. And believe me we know all the things wrong with our house. The leaky roof and the heat that sometimes doesn't. But No matter to me. Because every time I leave, I miss it. And every time I come up the driveway and spot the thorny tree that held my Hair... I am reminded, Reminded of children singing and Little girls spinning in a hot August sun. I am reminded of Houses I lived in before and all the good things about them. And the bad things too. But Most of all I am reminded That The Lord does bless me. How he showed my Babies a way through the brambles. And gave them words to sing. I am always reminded of every good time this house saw us through. I am reminded that we are never alone... I am reminded! And that is how this old house became my Home!
October 2008~
I love this place. I swing at night in my swing chair and feel at peace. My Journey to find HOME was a long one. Finally, I feel as if this is home. I have felt it ever since I first scrambled through the brambles in search of my youngest two. I hope that where ever you are tonight you too are at peace. Have a great night!
Patsy
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sometimes Poems turn Dark.
"The road to hell is paved with adverbs." ~ Stephen King
"We live in an age when pizza gets to your home before the police. "~ Jeff Marder
"My sweet sister, here is a list for you. hands, attendance, four, love, monkey, always, girls, prize, dream, silly putty, - I can't wait."~ Reuben
Today as I was trying to work with a list given to me by my Youngest brother, Things took a dark turn. Now don't worry. I'm fine. I don't mean that things turned dark for me. I'd just run the darkness away. But the poem took on a dark quality. Sometimes words will do that to you. Looking over the list I could have written several poems and being me I most likely will. But this first one has dark edges. Yet in a weird way this poem is a true reflection of the way things often work in the world we now live in. I hope you enjoy it and read with an open mind even if you really don't like dark poetry. The second poem Posted today I think will be special to The Brother who gave me this list. Do you know where we were? I bet you do. He bowed to every one of us that day.. do you remember? I hope all who visit here enjoy my poems today. I am out of lists for now. Readers feel free to send me a list of up to ten words... Normal every day words.. Have a great Day!
Patsy
Trial By Jury
Hands cuffed, Ankles
chained like a monster
he looked around
at everyone in attendance.
So many people cared.
But not for him.
Not for the first ones.
Poor victims, went unnoticed.
White trash ignored.
He had heard them say
Bad girls had it coming.
Dizzying, All these people!
"My sweet sister" he thought.
My only friend. Taken
by the drugs. Ten he was then.
No family to care.
He had no peers.
Making monkey motions
at the jury, four men
and eight girls. Why?
Always more girls.
He liked girls. He had
been considered a prize
by all the pretty girls.
Then he had turned
their dream into a nightmare.
Their lives twisted like
newspaper cartoons
on pink silly putty.
One too many.
A mayor's daughter
people got scared.
Already convicted
He was grateful!
Death their verdict.
" I can't wait!", his reply.
He should have stayed
out of the rich neighborhood.
Death would set him free.
Free from the darkness
that tainted his very soul.
His heart was thankful
for his Trial by Jury!
written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-27-2008
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bobby's Last Dance
Looking at his hands
praying no one noticed
how they trembled.
He was feeling his age.
Life catching up with him.
Needing a left handed smoke.
He had peaked out back
Every one was in attendance.
Nosy bunch. His sisters kids.
Bull dogs he had called them.
The Girls weren't too bad,
he almost liked one of them.
But those four boys. Bull dogs.
Even he had been bitten.
Fighters every single one.
Better left alone.
Made him proud to be kin.
They would argue over his gift.
Him making monkey faces
as they fought to get his dishrags
with his hard earned money
hidden away on the inside.
She always wrapped them for him
laughing together like old times
as they chose her prettiest paper.
He loved her like no one else.
"Oh my sweet sister!" he smiled
thinking about their life. Twins.
Her husband was a wonderful man.
Their love for each other pure.
He had never found the dream
love they shared. He had tried.
God knows he had tried.
"Hurry up!" his Partner called.
"We need you to Dance."
Strut Miss Lucy. A children's game.
Every year they played silly games
But he liked getting the prizes.
With a wink and a nod at himself
He slipped his silly putty
back inside his front pocket.
"I can't wait" He yelled.
He knew he owned that game.
He danced through the house
down the walkway and across the yard.
Then Bowing to his partner
he stepped out into the joy
of Bobby's Last dance.
Written By:Patricia Sawyer
10-27-2008
"We live in an age when pizza gets to your home before the police. "~ Jeff Marder
"My sweet sister, here is a list for you. hands, attendance, four, love, monkey, always, girls, prize, dream, silly putty, - I can't wait."~ Reuben
Today as I was trying to work with a list given to me by my Youngest brother, Things took a dark turn. Now don't worry. I'm fine. I don't mean that things turned dark for me. I'd just run the darkness away. But the poem took on a dark quality. Sometimes words will do that to you. Looking over the list I could have written several poems and being me I most likely will. But this first one has dark edges. Yet in a weird way this poem is a true reflection of the way things often work in the world we now live in. I hope you enjoy it and read with an open mind even if you really don't like dark poetry. The second poem Posted today I think will be special to The Brother who gave me this list. Do you know where we were? I bet you do. He bowed to every one of us that day.. do you remember? I hope all who visit here enjoy my poems today. I am out of lists for now. Readers feel free to send me a list of up to ten words... Normal every day words.. Have a great Day!
Patsy
Trial By Jury
Hands cuffed, Ankles
chained like a monster
he looked around
at everyone in attendance.
So many people cared.
But not for him.
Not for the first ones.
Poor victims, went unnoticed.
White trash ignored.
He had heard them say
Bad girls had it coming.
Dizzying, All these people!
"My sweet sister" he thought.
My only friend. Taken
by the drugs. Ten he was then.
No family to care.
He had no peers.
Making monkey motions
at the jury, four men
and eight girls. Why?
Always more girls.
He liked girls. He had
been considered a prize
by all the pretty girls.
Then he had turned
their dream into a nightmare.
Their lives twisted like
newspaper cartoons
on pink silly putty.
One too many.
A mayor's daughter
people got scared.
Already convicted
He was grateful!
Death their verdict.
" I can't wait!", his reply.
He should have stayed
out of the rich neighborhood.
Death would set him free.
Free from the darkness
that tainted his very soul.
His heart was thankful
for his Trial by Jury!
written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-27-2008
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bobby's Last Dance
Looking at his hands
praying no one noticed
how they trembled.
He was feeling his age.
Life catching up with him.
Needing a left handed smoke.
He had peaked out back
Every one was in attendance.
Nosy bunch. His sisters kids.
Bull dogs he had called them.
The Girls weren't too bad,
he almost liked one of them.
But those four boys. Bull dogs.
Even he had been bitten.
Fighters every single one.
Better left alone.
Made him proud to be kin.
They would argue over his gift.
Him making monkey faces
as they fought to get his dishrags
with his hard earned money
hidden away on the inside.
She always wrapped them for him
laughing together like old times
as they chose her prettiest paper.
He loved her like no one else.
"Oh my sweet sister!" he smiled
thinking about their life. Twins.
Her husband was a wonderful man.
Their love for each other pure.
He had never found the dream
love they shared. He had tried.
God knows he had tried.
"Hurry up!" his Partner called.
"We need you to Dance."
Strut Miss Lucy. A children's game.
Every year they played silly games
But he liked getting the prizes.
With a wink and a nod at himself
He slipped his silly putty
back inside his front pocket.
"I can't wait" He yelled.
He knew he owned that game.
He danced through the house
down the walkway and across the yard.
Then Bowing to his partner
he stepped out into the joy
of Bobby's Last dance.
Written By:Patricia Sawyer
10-27-2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
I always loved Sunday Mornings!
"Everybody needs his memories. They keep the wolf of insignificance from the door. " ~Saul Bellow
"Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose." ~From the television show The Wonder Years
Patsy
Sunday Morning Tips
Sunrise found me at the chicken pen
stealing fresh eggs from the hens
Scratching in the early morning
sunshine for their own breakfast
of fresh earth worms.
Slipping quietly back into the kitchen.
I could still smell the Garlic bread
from last nights spaghetti supper.
Stumbling over his left out toy truck,
I leaned close to his blond head
resting on his pillow and whispered
to my brother that we should surprise
our parents.
With a soft chuckle and a smile
he hopped from his bed.
"You wake up curly," I said
nodding towards the baby girl
And I'll start the coffee.
I had everything ready by the time
they appeared, their blue eyes shining.
Happy that I asked them for their help.
"Walk slow now", I warned
as they carried the trays.
He hurried to knock
upon the closed bedroom door.
Tiny fist barely making any noise.
His plate of toast held above his head.
She right behind him, grinning
with a tray of butter and jelly.
I always came last
with plates of grits and eggs,
And bacon or sausage if we had any.
"OH my goodness!" Daddy said.
Opening the door in his robe.
"Look Mama!" he said
as if truly surprised.
"Good Job" I told my helpers
as they ate in the kitchen.
"Good job" I told them again
as they carried emptied dishes.
"Excellent Job" I told myself
smiling a sneaky smile
on those Sunday mornings that
I slipped all three of the dollar tips
into my front pocket!
Written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-26-2008
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blue Chickens
" Just try to Walk quietly.
You have to be real sneaky
to surprise blue Chickens.
Leave the old truck
Parked at the bar and always
carry a little garlic for bait.
Blue Chickens don't eat Just anything.
They aren't easy to catch"
you told me with a sleepy smile.
Almost as hard to catch
as pink elephants I thought
to myself as I covered you
with a soft blanket.
Your tequila snores
echoing through out the room.
Blue Chickens indeed
I muttered, reaching for my coffee..
Maybe I can figure out a way
to write your Blue Chickens into a poem!
written By:
Patricia Sawyer
10-26-2008
As I was looking this over I realized that My siblings were going to swear I stole their tip Money when they were small.....I did.... I confess.... I took the dollar bills and divided whatever change there was between the two of you.. I think Daddy knew it. That's why he always put three dollars and four quarters. No easy way to divide that. Except for three dollars for me and two quarters each for y'all.. Now you are both welcome for being allowed to help me and Y'all did good! I love Y'all!
Patsy
"Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose." ~From the television show The Wonder Years
"Patsy, I had to think over night about my words for you...try these and see what comes to mind. Good Luck and I can't wait to read it!"~ Sunshine ( blue, chickens, soft, walk, surprise, coffee, smile, garlic, truck, always)
Patsy
Sunday Morning Tips
Sunrise found me at the chicken pen
stealing fresh eggs from the hens
Scratching in the early morning
sunshine for their own breakfast
of fresh earth worms.
Slipping quietly back into the kitchen.
I could still smell the Garlic bread
from last nights spaghetti supper.
Stumbling over his left out toy truck,
I leaned close to his blond head
resting on his pillow and whispered
to my brother that we should surprise
our parents.
With a soft chuckle and a smile
he hopped from his bed.
"You wake up curly," I said
nodding towards the baby girl
And I'll start the coffee.
I had everything ready by the time
they appeared, their blue eyes shining.
Happy that I asked them for their help.
"Walk slow now", I warned
as they carried the trays.
He hurried to knock
upon the closed bedroom door.
Tiny fist barely making any noise.
His plate of toast held above his head.
She right behind him, grinning
with a tray of butter and jelly.
I always came last
with plates of grits and eggs,
And bacon or sausage if we had any.
"OH my goodness!" Daddy said.
Opening the door in his robe.
"Look Mama!" he said
as if truly surprised.
"Good Job" I told my helpers
as they ate in the kitchen.
"Good job" I told them again
as they carried emptied dishes.
"Excellent Job" I told myself
smiling a sneaky smile
on those Sunday mornings that
I slipped all three of the dollar tips
into my front pocket!
Written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-26-2008
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blue Chickens
" Just try to Walk quietly.
You have to be real sneaky
to surprise blue Chickens.
Leave the old truck
Parked at the bar and always
carry a little garlic for bait.
Blue Chickens don't eat Just anything.
They aren't easy to catch"
you told me with a sleepy smile.
Almost as hard to catch
as pink elephants I thought
to myself as I covered you
with a soft blanket.
Your tequila snores
echoing through out the room.
Blue Chickens indeed
I muttered, reaching for my coffee..
Maybe I can figure out a way
to write your Blue Chickens into a poem!
written By:
Patricia Sawyer
10-26-2008
As I was looking this over I realized that My siblings were going to swear I stole their tip Money when they were small.....I did.... I confess.... I took the dollar bills and divided whatever change there was between the two of you.. I think Daddy knew it. That's why he always put three dollars and four quarters. No easy way to divide that. Except for three dollars for me and two quarters each for y'all.. Now you are both welcome for being allowed to help me and Y'all did good! I love Y'all!
Patsy
Thursday, October 23, 2008
A Gift of Words.
"oh my! you are just incredibly talented! you got me there, i was hooked by your post and i got to read it. ^^ Now try this, i wish to see what will be the result.." ~ webloglearner
http://www.blogger.com/profile/12022359549820472945
"A word is not the same with one writer as with another. One tears it from his guts. The other pulls it out of his overcoat pocket." ~Charles Peguy
"A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one." ~Baltasar Gracián
I Love a gift of words. Yesterday I did a post on writing from word lists. I was tickled pink this morning to find a list of words left for me in the comments section. I sat down right then and wrote the poem I am sharing with you today. This is a spooky time of year when witches and spells are everywhere. Please enjoy being a part of a witches dream! I also visited the blog of webloglearner and invite you to visit it as well. A link is above, Just below the first quote of today. Thanks again for the list! Today enjoy the spirit of being scared. Say Boo! to someone you love. Laugh together and be glad for the chance to calm each others real fears. Talk with someone you trust about the things that really frighten you. And stay away from the twisting twirling Grape vines! Have a wonderful day.
Patsy
The Witches Dream
The Grapes hung in violet clusters
upon the twisted vine.
I should have been in bed.
Sleep covering me
like a warm blanket.
A ring of sugar plums
my only dream.
But No, I had seen
the Poster advertising grapes.
I had promised myself
only to steal what I could eat.
Never to be caught.
No evidence you see
except for a full belly.
No evidence, no crime!
I would do no time!
But Oh what a wicked game.
How those vines twisted,
twirling around my feet.
Holding me tight and still
No matter how I kicked.
My cry from the amethyst orchard unheard.
She came then carrying her Brass
cauldron as if it weighted naught.
A black cat hurrying along beside
with secret spices in a special black sack.
It was plain that I was the ingredient
and the witch was about To Cook.
She gathered things from secret spots
she looked into a book. She turned
and looked into my eyes.
My body shook and shook
and then a crash from by my bed
as I jumped up on the floor.
Feet cold, heart racing, a cold sweat.
Knowing it only a nightmare,
I patted my Purple cluster filled tummy
and crawled right back into the witches dream.
Written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-23-2008
with a word lists of- grapes, feet, book, cry, kick, sleep,eat, ring , blanket, poster
provided by webloglearner.
http://www.blogger.com/profile/12022359549820472945
"A word is not the same with one writer as with another. One tears it from his guts. The other pulls it out of his overcoat pocket." ~Charles Peguy
"A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one." ~Baltasar Gracián
I Love a gift of words. Yesterday I did a post on writing from word lists. I was tickled pink this morning to find a list of words left for me in the comments section. I sat down right then and wrote the poem I am sharing with you today. This is a spooky time of year when witches and spells are everywhere. Please enjoy being a part of a witches dream! I also visited the blog of webloglearner and invite you to visit it as well. A link is above, Just below the first quote of today. Thanks again for the list! Today enjoy the spirit of being scared. Say Boo! to someone you love. Laugh together and be glad for the chance to calm each others real fears. Talk with someone you trust about the things that really frighten you. And stay away from the twisting twirling Grape vines! Have a wonderful day.
Patsy
The Witches Dream
The Grapes hung in violet clusters
upon the twisted vine.
I should have been in bed.
Sleep covering me
like a warm blanket.
A ring of sugar plums
my only dream.
But No, I had seen
the Poster advertising grapes.
I had promised myself
only to steal what I could eat.
Never to be caught.
No evidence you see
except for a full belly.
No evidence, no crime!
I would do no time!
But Oh what a wicked game.
How those vines twisted,
twirling around my feet.
Holding me tight and still
No matter how I kicked.
My cry from the amethyst orchard unheard.
She came then carrying her Brass
cauldron as if it weighted naught.
A black cat hurrying along beside
with secret spices in a special black sack.
It was plain that I was the ingredient
and the witch was about To Cook.
She gathered things from secret spots
she looked into a book. She turned
and looked into my eyes.
My body shook and shook
and then a crash from by my bed
as I jumped up on the floor.
Feet cold, heart racing, a cold sweat.
Knowing it only a nightmare,
I patted my Purple cluster filled tummy
and crawled right back into the witches dream.
Written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-23-2008
with a word lists of- grapes, feet, book, cry, kick, sleep,eat, ring , blanket, poster
provided by webloglearner.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Word Bank Writing ~ Not as easy as it sounds.
"I never knew what was meant by choice of words. It was one word or none."~ Robert Frost
"The idea is to get the pencil moving quickly…Once you've got some words looking back at you, you can take two or three - throw them away and look for others."~ Bernard Malamud
"Writing is an adventure." Winston Churchill
Today is Wednesday and so, as y'all who come here often know, Y'all will get to read some poetry of mine today. I am posting two poems today. These poems were written from word banks: Or lists of words chosen by some one else and sent to me. Sounds easy huh. It's not as easy as you think. Sometimes words just don't even sound good with each other with you read them. I always start by reading the list aloud to myself. I like to hear words spoken. I guess I am a listener. I think my family who read this are laughing right now. They all are shaking their heads and saying," A listener my behind! A talker and a fool and thinks she's a writer: but she is not a listener." What I mean is that I want my poems to SOUND a certain way. I would rather read one of my poems aloud myself than have someone else do it. They often don't read them like I would. So as I was saying some words don't sound good together.
I am a sucker for words though. I like to get a lists of words and try to write from it. I had a story on here a while back called Something Old~ Something New! That story was written from a word bank. When I read a word I get a mental image. Certain words when read together form an even more vivid image. Such as the three words Fountain, Farmer, and Cabbage. You will find these three words in one of tonight's poems. But My favorite Poem ever written from a word bank is Caustic View. It also the first poem shared with Y'all tonight. Enjoy it! Now go ahead, send me a list of at least ten words. I will always give it a try at writing something from them. And they do have to be words an average person would know. Not words from some rare word dictionary. Those I will only look up. Have a wonderful day!
Patsy
Caustic View
Fitting my eye to the keyhole
I peak into the elegant room.
I have an amazing view.
Beyond the table still holding
the remains of last nights
gourmet meal, with flecks
of spilled pepper shining
on the snowy linens.
To the rumpled bed,
it's fluffy pillow tossed,
unwanted onto the plush gray
of the floor.
The hands on the bedside clock
sit still as it rests there unwound.
Finally a movement on the terrace
attracts my eye and I jerk away
from the key hole and scream.
I must confide that I only wanted to peak
at the beauty from the orient. I never expected
My eye to discover the caustic view
of her dainty neck noosed
and her beautiful body
twirling in the predawn light.
Written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-18-2008
The word list for this poem was~ Caustic, keyhole, elegant,beyond, gourmet, pepper, pillow, clock, terrace, attracts, confide, orient.
This list was from a poetry contest held by Polaja on the Allpoetry.com sight.
Ripples of Fear
Resting near the fountain
I could see the Farmer
tending his Cabbage.
"Oh how quaint"
I thought to myself.
My Mean heart quickening.
With not a ripple of remorse
I carefully aimed My Bicycle
and careened down the Hill.
The rigid handlebars striking
his belly with a horrifying splat.
It was with great fortitude that he
remained upright and turned
to me with a haunted look and said
"I guess you just qualified for the
meanest way to heighten ones senses!"
But it was his weirdly wicked smile
that sent the ripples of fear
down My suddenly rigid spine.
written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-21-2008
the word list for this poem was~ Cabbage, Careen, Careful,
Farmer, Fortitude, Fountain, Haunting, Heighten,
Horrify, Quaint, Qualified, Quickening,
Remorse, Rigid, Ripple
This list was also from Allpoetry.com and was a contest held by: Pamela A Lamppa
"The idea is to get the pencil moving quickly…Once you've got some words looking back at you, you can take two or three - throw them away and look for others."~ Bernard Malamud
"Writing is an adventure." Winston Churchill
Today is Wednesday and so, as y'all who come here often know, Y'all will get to read some poetry of mine today. I am posting two poems today. These poems were written from word banks: Or lists of words chosen by some one else and sent to me. Sounds easy huh. It's not as easy as you think. Sometimes words just don't even sound good with each other with you read them. I always start by reading the list aloud to myself. I like to hear words spoken. I guess I am a listener. I think my family who read this are laughing right now. They all are shaking their heads and saying," A listener my behind! A talker and a fool and thinks she's a writer: but she is not a listener." What I mean is that I want my poems to SOUND a certain way. I would rather read one of my poems aloud myself than have someone else do it. They often don't read them like I would. So as I was saying some words don't sound good together.
I am a sucker for words though. I like to get a lists of words and try to write from it. I had a story on here a while back called Something Old~ Something New! That story was written from a word bank. When I read a word I get a mental image. Certain words when read together form an even more vivid image. Such as the three words Fountain, Farmer, and Cabbage. You will find these three words in one of tonight's poems. But My favorite Poem ever written from a word bank is Caustic View. It also the first poem shared with Y'all tonight. Enjoy it! Now go ahead, send me a list of at least ten words. I will always give it a try at writing something from them. And they do have to be words an average person would know. Not words from some rare word dictionary. Those I will only look up. Have a wonderful day!
Patsy
Caustic View
Fitting my eye to the keyhole
I peak into the elegant room.
I have an amazing view.
Beyond the table still holding
the remains of last nights
gourmet meal, with flecks
of spilled pepper shining
on the snowy linens.
To the rumpled bed,
it's fluffy pillow tossed,
unwanted onto the plush gray
of the floor.
The hands on the bedside clock
sit still as it rests there unwound.
Finally a movement on the terrace
attracts my eye and I jerk away
from the key hole and scream.
I must confide that I only wanted to peak
at the beauty from the orient. I never expected
My eye to discover the caustic view
of her dainty neck noosed
and her beautiful body
twirling in the predawn light.
Written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-18-2008
The word list for this poem was~ Caustic, keyhole, elegant,beyond, gourmet, pepper, pillow, clock, terrace, attracts, confide, orient.
This list was from a poetry contest held by Polaja on the Allpoetry.com sight.
Ripples of Fear
Resting near the fountain
I could see the Farmer
tending his Cabbage.
"Oh how quaint"
I thought to myself.
My Mean heart quickening.
With not a ripple of remorse
I carefully aimed My Bicycle
and careened down the Hill.
The rigid handlebars striking
his belly with a horrifying splat.
It was with great fortitude that he
remained upright and turned
to me with a haunted look and said
"I guess you just qualified for the
meanest way to heighten ones senses!"
But it was his weirdly wicked smile
that sent the ripples of fear
down My suddenly rigid spine.
written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-21-2008
the word list for this poem was~ Cabbage, Careen, Careful,
Farmer, Fortitude, Fountain, Haunting, Heighten,
Horrify, Quaint, Qualified, Quickening,
Remorse, Rigid, Ripple
This list was also from Allpoetry.com and was a contest held by: Pamela A Lamppa
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
"Early detection is key, And if I hadn't found my lump early, I don't know what would have been. I am still here and I want to encourage women to do that on a regular basis."
~ Olivia Newton-John
"But when this happens to you - and I think other people would identify with this - suddenly, colors are brighter. You see everything." ~ Lynn Redgrave
"When other women have this same operation, it doesn't make any headlines. But the fact that I was the wife of the President put it in headlines and brought before the public this particular experience I was going through. It made a lot of women realize that it could happen to them. I'm sure I've saved at least one person—maybe more." ~Betty Ford
I knew I wasn't supposed to be listening. I also knew that Mama and Grandma were talking about something that they considered important. Reuben was driving his trucks around on the floor right in front of them. I was sitting quietly under the table trying to look like I was playing with my Barbies. I'm pretty sure I was doing a good job since they weren't really paying me any attention. They glanced at Reuben every now and again but they weren't looking my way. I had already slipped my pencil and a scrap of paper out. I was writing.
They didn't want us to understand them. I knew that because they were spelling. Well actually Mama was spelling to Aunt Frankie on the phone. Grandma had already whispered everything to Mama when she had first come walking across the yard. I had seen her stop first at Aunt Lucy's house. I had been sitting in the china berry tree when I saw her crossing the field. She was walking kinda fast for Grandma so I knew something was wrong. I also knew that she would come on to our house next so I hurried to get my stuff and get settled under the table.
I thought I knew the word Mama spelled. C~A~N~C~E~R I was almost sure that I had heard that word before. Mr Isle from down the road had had that. He had died after being sick for just a short while. His daughters rode our school bus. I wrote the word down and looked at it. Then I heard another word I knew ~ breast~ I knew what that was. All Girls had them. All boys had them too but I knew mine would grow and My brothers' would not. I didn't know why that was true. Just that it was. I was smart. I saw almost everything that happened around me and let me tell you. I was nosy too.. I didn't miss anything said or spelled anywhere close to me. I wanted to go get the encyclopedia and look up this word they kept spelling but I was scared I would miss something. So I sat there quiet and listened.
Finally the story unfolded that My aunt Rose had been to the Doctor and they had told her that she had this thing they spelled. I saw tears gather in Mama's eyes. I knew it was bad. I wanted to cry myself. I worried about who would take care of my cousins if their Mama was sick. I wondered if we could catch this thing from her. I slipped away to sneak the ~C~ encyclopedia. I slipped it into my barbie case, carefully pushing the others together so that no one would notice it missing. I hurried to my room and closed myself in my closet. Settling myself down on the floor I began to look for the word I written while under the table.
Cancer~ Breast Cancer~ When Aunt Rose first got sick, many many women died from breast cancer. It was an almost surety that they would die. But before they died they would undergo the trauma of having both breast removed. Months and months of Radiation and Chemo therapy. Aunt Rose was the first person I ever knew who had breast cancer. Aunt Rose went through so many things in those days when the doctors really didn't know much about how to treat cancer and research had just begun on breast cancer. I know they removed her breasts. I learned that by listening to her daughter and my oldest brother when they thought they were having a private conversation. But she lived. I was amazed that she could live without breasts.
To a young child some things seem impossible.
I tried to see a difference in Aunt Rose. I convinced Mama to let me walk down to the store and get an ice cream. I Opened the cooler and peaked at her through the swirling frosty fog that rose from the hatch lid. She was sitting in the built in chair on the end of the stores old counter. She looked tired and a little white around the eyes. She smiled at me and asked me if I had seen the new Dolls in the Store window. She knew I loved dolls. I couldn't tell she had cancer. But I knew it And I Hated it. I had read all about it in the encyclopedia and I had been to the school library and looked it up. I still thought she would die right away. I loved Aunt Rose. I wanted her to be cured. I wanted her to have her breasts back. I wanted her to live.
Aunt Rose lived many many years after she was first diagnosed with Cancer. She would go into remission for a while then it would come back. You could always tell when she was taking chemo. She would wear a pink hat/scarf thing . It sat lopsided on her head and yet it became her. I would see her at the school picking up her Grand kids and she would be smiling. Her pink hat sitting sideways on her head. I believe she treasured every day continuing to tend her children then her Grandchildren. Teaching herself to play Guitar. Learning to do ceramics. Living long enough to take care of Uncle Neal until he died. Then following close behind.
Many more women in my life had cancer and died and yet Aunt Rose lived on for many years. Aunt Agnes lived only three months after she found a tiny lump. My one time best friend Pam Richardson lived almost six months deciding not to have surgery or take any treatments when they told her that the cancer had already spread into her lymph nodes before she ever felt a lump. Apparently she had a fast growing type of cancer. My friend Thim fighting for four years only to die last year. Just Last week Mrs. Jo Anne passing away after a two year battle. So Many wonderful Ladies that Cancer has taken from my life.
I could also give a list of names of breast cancer survivors. But the one thing all the survivors have in common is early detection. I have to tell you that I went kicking and screaming but I did have a mammogram this year. I gave the Doctor hell and swore I wasn't going to have it. But in the end even I have sense enough to know that I need to do my part to make sure I don't have Breast cancer.
I had heard that it hurt. It didn't hurt really, it was a little uncomfortable for my arm in one of the poses they twisted me into. If you have never had a mammogram, talk with your health care provider. They have guidelines as to how old you should be and how often you should have them. There are new treatments now. Many more women survive than ever before. I encourage all ladies to do their part to prevent breast cancer. Do self checks. Teach your spouse
to be aware of changes in your body. Visit your Doctor regularly. Quit smoking! Have Mammograms!
I want to encourage all Women to have a mammogram this year. Men please encourage the ladies in your life to take an active roll in their health. Have a wonderful day!
Patsy
~ Olivia Newton-John
"But when this happens to you - and I think other people would identify with this - suddenly, colors are brighter. You see everything." ~ Lynn Redgrave
"When other women have this same operation, it doesn't make any headlines. But the fact that I was the wife of the President put it in headlines and brought before the public this particular experience I was going through. It made a lot of women realize that it could happen to them. I'm sure I've saved at least one person—maybe more." ~Betty Ford
I knew I wasn't supposed to be listening. I also knew that Mama and Grandma were talking about something that they considered important. Reuben was driving his trucks around on the floor right in front of them. I was sitting quietly under the table trying to look like I was playing with my Barbies. I'm pretty sure I was doing a good job since they weren't really paying me any attention. They glanced at Reuben every now and again but they weren't looking my way. I had already slipped my pencil and a scrap of paper out. I was writing.
They didn't want us to understand them. I knew that because they were spelling. Well actually Mama was spelling to Aunt Frankie on the phone. Grandma had already whispered everything to Mama when she had first come walking across the yard. I had seen her stop first at Aunt Lucy's house. I had been sitting in the china berry tree when I saw her crossing the field. She was walking kinda fast for Grandma so I knew something was wrong. I also knew that she would come on to our house next so I hurried to get my stuff and get settled under the table.
I thought I knew the word Mama spelled. C~A~N~C~E~R I was almost sure that I had heard that word before. Mr Isle from down the road had had that. He had died after being sick for just a short while. His daughters rode our school bus. I wrote the word down and looked at it. Then I heard another word I knew ~ breast~ I knew what that was. All Girls had them. All boys had them too but I knew mine would grow and My brothers' would not. I didn't know why that was true. Just that it was. I was smart. I saw almost everything that happened around me and let me tell you. I was nosy too.. I didn't miss anything said or spelled anywhere close to me. I wanted to go get the encyclopedia and look up this word they kept spelling but I was scared I would miss something. So I sat there quiet and listened.
Finally the story unfolded that My aunt Rose had been to the Doctor and they had told her that she had this thing they spelled. I saw tears gather in Mama's eyes. I knew it was bad. I wanted to cry myself. I worried about who would take care of my cousins if their Mama was sick. I wondered if we could catch this thing from her. I slipped away to sneak the ~C~ encyclopedia. I slipped it into my barbie case, carefully pushing the others together so that no one would notice it missing. I hurried to my room and closed myself in my closet. Settling myself down on the floor I began to look for the word I written while under the table.
Cancer~ Breast Cancer~ When Aunt Rose first got sick, many many women died from breast cancer. It was an almost surety that they would die. But before they died they would undergo the trauma of having both breast removed. Months and months of Radiation and Chemo therapy. Aunt Rose was the first person I ever knew who had breast cancer. Aunt Rose went through so many things in those days when the doctors really didn't know much about how to treat cancer and research had just begun on breast cancer. I know they removed her breasts. I learned that by listening to her daughter and my oldest brother when they thought they were having a private conversation. But she lived. I was amazed that she could live without breasts.
To a young child some things seem impossible.
I tried to see a difference in Aunt Rose. I convinced Mama to let me walk down to the store and get an ice cream. I Opened the cooler and peaked at her through the swirling frosty fog that rose from the hatch lid. She was sitting in the built in chair on the end of the stores old counter. She looked tired and a little white around the eyes. She smiled at me and asked me if I had seen the new Dolls in the Store window. She knew I loved dolls. I couldn't tell she had cancer. But I knew it And I Hated it. I had read all about it in the encyclopedia and I had been to the school library and looked it up. I still thought she would die right away. I loved Aunt Rose. I wanted her to be cured. I wanted her to have her breasts back. I wanted her to live.
Aunt Rose lived many many years after she was first diagnosed with Cancer. She would go into remission for a while then it would come back. You could always tell when she was taking chemo. She would wear a pink hat/scarf thing . It sat lopsided on her head and yet it became her. I would see her at the school picking up her Grand kids and she would be smiling. Her pink hat sitting sideways on her head. I believe she treasured every day continuing to tend her children then her Grandchildren. Teaching herself to play Guitar. Learning to do ceramics. Living long enough to take care of Uncle Neal until he died. Then following close behind.
Many more women in my life had cancer and died and yet Aunt Rose lived on for many years. Aunt Agnes lived only three months after she found a tiny lump. My one time best friend Pam Richardson lived almost six months deciding not to have surgery or take any treatments when they told her that the cancer had already spread into her lymph nodes before she ever felt a lump. Apparently she had a fast growing type of cancer. My friend Thim fighting for four years only to die last year. Just Last week Mrs. Jo Anne passing away after a two year battle. So Many wonderful Ladies that Cancer has taken from my life.
I could also give a list of names of breast cancer survivors. But the one thing all the survivors have in common is early detection. I have to tell you that I went kicking and screaming but I did have a mammogram this year. I gave the Doctor hell and swore I wasn't going to have it. But in the end even I have sense enough to know that I need to do my part to make sure I don't have Breast cancer.
I had heard that it hurt. It didn't hurt really, it was a little uncomfortable for my arm in one of the poses they twisted me into. If you have never had a mammogram, talk with your health care provider. They have guidelines as to how old you should be and how often you should have them. There are new treatments now. Many more women survive than ever before. I encourage all ladies to do their part to prevent breast cancer. Do self checks. Teach your spouse
to be aware of changes in your body. Visit your Doctor regularly. Quit smoking! Have Mammograms!
I want to encourage all Women to have a mammogram this year. Men please encourage the ladies in your life to take an active roll in their health. Have a wonderful day!
Patsy
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Today is Grouch Day!
"I'm really 95 percent Mr. Rogers, and only 5 percent Oscar the Grouch."
~ George Steinbrenner
"I don't mind playing absolute bastards... I just don't want to play the grouch. "
~ Hume Cronyn
"A grouch escapes so many little annoyances that it almost pays to be one. "
~ Kin Hubbard
Today is National Grouch Day. I know a few of those. I mean I think we all know someone who acts as if they have been sucking pickles. Or Maybe sat on a cactus. One of those folks that is almost never happy. There is at least one in every neighborhood. I know who she is in my Neighborhood. You know you know one. At least one besides the famous one who lives on Sesame Street next to big Bird and Elmo. You know that green Guy in the garbage can!
"A Grouch's mission in life is to be as miserable and grouchy as possible, and pass that feeling on to everyone else. Only then will a Grouch feel in touch with his or her world and be happy. Yet, even though a Grouch may show happiness at anyone's misfortune (including his or her own), a Grouch would never admit to being happy. Such is the stability of a Grouch's life: so balanced, and yet so unbalanced. "
~ Quoted from ~ muppet.wikia.com
I could give you a list so Long.... But then again I will pass on that. My Brothers know which
of them are grouches. I don't have to call them by name. I wonder if being a grouch is inherited? I bet it is. Or at the very least it is catchable. I caught it from my children and my honey. Or either I caught it from my Wives- in - Law! I will accept that My grouchy children caught it from me.
I know my own self to be a grumpy grouch at times. I usually wake up in the grouch mode when I am going to be in that kind of Mood. I try to be fair to all around me by giving them fair warning that I woke up mean today. They always wanna ask silly things like why? or How can you wake up mean? Now I ask you all , wouldn't it, given that I have already warned a person, make more sense to go away and let me stew in my own mean old wicked grouchiness? Why? Oh why do those I am trying so hard to not choke have to ask me stuff? I have been sucking pickles. I have sat on a cactus.. Go away and let me Grump! I tried to write a grouch poem. But being grouchy, I don't like it much! But I do hope you enjoy it.
Grouchy Me!
I think I had a nightmare
as I was waking up today.
I dreamed I was a grouch
mean as anything and everything.
A wicked women!
I snapped at my Honey
I tried to bite my dog.
I yelled at my kids
but too late their all grown.
A mean Old Mama!
I cried out at myself.
Stop being such a bore.
Too my surprise I answered.
You have always been a grouch!
Stop whining!
A whining wicked woman?
I gave myself a good shake.
And a firm talking to too.
It Can't be all my fault. I'll blame someone.
Then I remembered why I am a grouch.
A grouchy pouty pitiful woman.
And I snapped at my Honey.
I bit my dogs all three.
I yelled at the kids and the grandkids too.
I wrote it all down. Just to share with you.
Be a grouch today! Blame someone else.
Growl at them all. Throw something.
That's what we grouches do!
Grouchy grumpy mean Old ME!
written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-15-2008
Even though today is National Grouch day. I hope that today you will try to find reasons to be pleased by the ones in your life. I also hope that you will let others know how much you love them and how much you would miss then were they to be suddenly gone from your life. I myself have to fight not to be grouchy in this expensive and turbulent world we all now share.
Gas prices, food prices and the constant daily bad news from around the world tends to make us all want to hide in our own little world and be grouchy. Please be kind to the ones who share your life. Even if they are a Grouch! Have a great Day!
Patsy
~ George Steinbrenner
"I don't mind playing absolute bastards... I just don't want to play the grouch. "
~ Hume Cronyn
"A grouch escapes so many little annoyances that it almost pays to be one. "
~ Kin Hubbard
Today is National Grouch Day. I know a few of those. I mean I think we all know someone who acts as if they have been sucking pickles. Or Maybe sat on a cactus. One of those folks that is almost never happy. There is at least one in every neighborhood. I know who she is in my Neighborhood. You know you know one. At least one besides the famous one who lives on Sesame Street next to big Bird and Elmo. You know that green Guy in the garbage can!
"A Grouch's mission in life is to be as miserable and grouchy as possible, and pass that feeling on to everyone else. Only then will a Grouch feel in touch with his or her world and be happy. Yet, even though a Grouch may show happiness at anyone's misfortune (including his or her own), a Grouch would never admit to being happy. Such is the stability of a Grouch's life: so balanced, and yet so unbalanced. "
~ Quoted from ~ muppet.wikia.com
I could give you a list so Long.... But then again I will pass on that. My Brothers know which
of them are grouches. I don't have to call them by name. I wonder if being a grouch is inherited? I bet it is. Or at the very least it is catchable. I caught it from my children and my honey. Or either I caught it from my Wives- in - Law! I will accept that My grouchy children caught it from me.
I know my own self to be a grumpy grouch at times. I usually wake up in the grouch mode when I am going to be in that kind of Mood. I try to be fair to all around me by giving them fair warning that I woke up mean today. They always wanna ask silly things like why? or How can you wake up mean? Now I ask you all , wouldn't it, given that I have already warned a person, make more sense to go away and let me stew in my own mean old wicked grouchiness? Why? Oh why do those I am trying so hard to not choke have to ask me stuff? I have been sucking pickles. I have sat on a cactus.. Go away and let me Grump! I tried to write a grouch poem. But being grouchy, I don't like it much! But I do hope you enjoy it.
Grouchy Me!
I think I had a nightmare
as I was waking up today.
I dreamed I was a grouch
mean as anything and everything.
A wicked women!
I snapped at my Honey
I tried to bite my dog.
I yelled at my kids
but too late their all grown.
A mean Old Mama!
I cried out at myself.
Stop being such a bore.
Too my surprise I answered.
You have always been a grouch!
Stop whining!
A whining wicked woman?
I gave myself a good shake.
And a firm talking to too.
It Can't be all my fault. I'll blame someone.
Then I remembered why I am a grouch.
A grouchy pouty pitiful woman.
And I snapped at my Honey.
I bit my dogs all three.
I yelled at the kids and the grandkids too.
I wrote it all down. Just to share with you.
Be a grouch today! Blame someone else.
Growl at them all. Throw something.
That's what we grouches do!
Grouchy grumpy mean Old ME!
written By: Patricia Sawyer
10-15-2008
Even though today is National Grouch day. I hope that today you will try to find reasons to be pleased by the ones in your life. I also hope that you will let others know how much you love them and how much you would miss then were they to be suddenly gone from your life. I myself have to fight not to be grouchy in this expensive and turbulent world we all now share.
Gas prices, food prices and the constant daily bad news from around the world tends to make us all want to hide in our own little world and be grouchy. Please be kind to the ones who share your life. Even if they are a Grouch! Have a great Day!
Patsy
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Have you seen what THEY are wearing now?
"Men want the same thing from their underwear that they want from women: a little bit of support, and a little bit of freedom." ~ Jerry Seinfeld
"This morning when I put on my underwear I could hear the fruit-of-the-loom guys laughing at me." ~ Rodney Dangerfield
"I don't believe in the after life, although I am bringing a change of underwear. "
~ Woody Allen
Underwear
Soft, pink satin,
Baby blue with lace.
Underwear, underwear every place.
Hot red silk
Plain white cotton
Underwear here even I had forgotten.
Black and slinky,
Is that a thong?
Underwear like that almost seems wrong.
Blue with Purple polka dots
Roses scattered over lime.
Underwear like that could never, ever be mine!
Written By: Patricia Sawyer
3-4-2008
Good Wednesday to All of you! Today's poem is called underwear. When I was writing this poem I wondered what My Grandmas would think if they walked through The local stores and saw all the frilly lacy TINY TINY Tiny items called underwear.
The first thong I ever saw got left by a visitor in our home and I thought it was some weird new hair thing. I was about to try it in my own hair when one of the kids yelled out that it was panties.
I remember standing there with My hand on my hip and this tiny lacy green stringy thing hanging on one finger saying~ " You expect me to believe that this here is Drawers?" " No Mama, " she replied, "not Drawers, it's a thong." First of all I was trying to figure out how this tiny scrap of lace covered any body's butt, and secondly how did my child that I had worked so hard to protect, know about these things called thongs.
Women used to wear long drawers that came slap down to their ankles. Even after they became smaller they only had a choice of one or two colors and the underwear covered your whole butt.
Men had a choice too. Boxers or briefs. Then came bikini panties and many more colors. Now you can get barely there underwear and any color imagined.
Women and Men can also get the bikinis and the hipsters and yes they even make thongs for men.. I pray that no Man I knows wears them and if they too, Please don't ever tell me..
I was looking for some underwear myself a few weeks ago and had to go into that section. There were two young girls there with Pants that swung low on their hips and their String was pulled up around their waist. I knew then they were wearing a thong. I was glad though to see the back of theirs.. for you see, Now If I ever decide to buy me one of those tiny little lace scraps.. I will know how to put it on.
This world has changed very quickly. Not just the underwear but everything. I know what My Grandmas would think. They would call the drawers scandalous. They would say people have no morals. I have been here for the changes and even I find some of them overwhelming.
Revisit your youth today. Was there something you wanted but your parents thought was shameful? I'm sure there was. Did you get it anyway. Do you still have it? Was it worth it?
Have a great Day!
Patsy
"This morning when I put on my underwear I could hear the fruit-of-the-loom guys laughing at me." ~ Rodney Dangerfield
"I don't believe in the after life, although I am bringing a change of underwear. "
~ Woody Allen
Underwear
Soft, pink satin,
Baby blue with lace.
Underwear, underwear every place.
Hot red silk
Plain white cotton
Underwear here even I had forgotten.
Black and slinky,
Is that a thong?
Underwear like that almost seems wrong.
Blue with Purple polka dots
Roses scattered over lime.
Underwear like that could never, ever be mine!
Written By: Patricia Sawyer
3-4-2008
Good Wednesday to All of you! Today's poem is called underwear. When I was writing this poem I wondered what My Grandmas would think if they walked through The local stores and saw all the frilly lacy TINY TINY Tiny items called underwear.
The first thong I ever saw got left by a visitor in our home and I thought it was some weird new hair thing. I was about to try it in my own hair when one of the kids yelled out that it was panties.
I remember standing there with My hand on my hip and this tiny lacy green stringy thing hanging on one finger saying~ " You expect me to believe that this here is Drawers?" " No Mama, " she replied, "not Drawers, it's a thong." First of all I was trying to figure out how this tiny scrap of lace covered any body's butt, and secondly how did my child that I had worked so hard to protect, know about these things called thongs.
Women used to wear long drawers that came slap down to their ankles. Even after they became smaller they only had a choice of one or two colors and the underwear covered your whole butt.
Men had a choice too. Boxers or briefs. Then came bikini panties and many more colors. Now you can get barely there underwear and any color imagined.
Women and Men can also get the bikinis and the hipsters and yes they even make thongs for men.. I pray that no Man I knows wears them and if they too, Please don't ever tell me..
I was looking for some underwear myself a few weeks ago and had to go into that section. There were two young girls there with Pants that swung low on their hips and their String was pulled up around their waist. I knew then they were wearing a thong. I was glad though to see the back of theirs.. for you see, Now If I ever decide to buy me one of those tiny little lace scraps.. I will know how to put it on.
This world has changed very quickly. Not just the underwear but everything. I know what My Grandmas would think. They would call the drawers scandalous. They would say people have no morals. I have been here for the changes and even I find some of them overwhelming.
Revisit your youth today. Was there something you wanted but your parents thought was shameful? I'm sure there was. Did you get it anyway. Do you still have it? Was it worth it?
Have a great Day!
Patsy
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
A writing Class~ A Piece of Cake?
“The whole of life is in each moment, not in the past, not in the future - and thus a true haiku is important because it is a moment of total and genuine awareness of the reality of the Now.”
~ Robert Spiess (New and Selected Speculations on Haiku)
“Haiku has developed as a poem which expresses deep feelings for nature, including human beings. This follows the traditional idea that man is part of the natural world and should live in harmony with it. This differs from the Western way of thinking, in which man is regarded as independent of and perhaps superior to the rest of nature.”~ Sono Uchida President of the haiku International Association.
“Haiku forces us to get out of the loops and worries or depressing thoughts by demanding that we use our senses to explore what is around the body at this very second.” ~Jane Reichhold
A few months ago I was happily searching for writing classes to take free on-line. I found a lot of sights that of course had some catch ~ They were free after you paid to join. ~They were free if you bought a book. ~ Basically they weren't free.
Then I found the Allpoetry sight. And they had a whole section called learn. I was tickled to death. They had a whole lists of classes. And if there were a catch I couldn't find it.. ~ They do offer an up-grade on their sight for some small fee but you are welcomed to take the classes for free.~ I decided right then that I was going to take them all. After all, I love poetry and I made A's in school. I mean how hard can it really be.?!? I was even going to be sensible. I was going to take them two or three at the time. No need to be hoggish since I was pretty sure I had this class thing whipped.
I began with Dark Poetry which I had never written. I have only one more poem to write for that class. I have done very well there.. I have found that I have a dark side that also loves to write. I have enjoyed the class and am proud of myself for trying something new.
I also signed up for a class that teaches you to write for children. I am about half through that class. I loved it to begin with~ But all my kids are grown. I will finish the class but I'm not in a real hurry. My interest has changed.
The third class I signed up for was a Beginners Haiku writing class. I remembered Haiku from high school. I knew this class would be easy. I figured I'd knock the eighteen classes out in eighteen or twenty days. Depending on how slow the teacher was. Oh Boy was I ever WRONG!
First of all I had to forget everything I ever learned about writing Haiku. Forget the syllable counting and the story in three lines rules we learned in school. I want y'all to know ~ I who thought I could write anything~ have struggled with this class. I have wrote Haiku for years. I have won contests for Haiku. I love Haiku. I didn't know the first thing about Haiku. I even told Dave that I didn't think the teacher liked me. As if he could know me enough to decide. I cried. I cursed. Y'all know I cursed a lot when he said "do it again please!" and then I cursed some more when he said, " almost but not quiet. One more time."
Finally, after a few months of writing and re-writing and reading and studying. I am doing well in a Beginners Haiku class. So much for me knocking that class out quick. So much for me having any of them "whipped". I wasn't as smart as I thought I was. Nor as good at writing Haiku as my teachers in school assured me I was. But I am learning. I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks. I have learned that every Haiku should have an A Ha moment.. They should also cause the reader to think. I am sharing some of my Haiku with you tonight. Haiku also are not supposed to have titles.. I have given these titles only to keep them straight for myself ~And because a sight that I post a lot of my work on won't take anything without a title.
Please enjoy.
Quail
sleeping quail~
soft snores forgotten
under a blanket of Gravy
In the Cemetery
an old cemetery
tilted gravestones thrusting
~ a Hare nibbles grass
Hissing Grass
vigilant reptile
Rippled over the rocks
Hissing Grass swirls
Into the River
mourners squawk~
Red tailed Hawk follows
Daisies downstream
Clean Slate
driftwood drawn words~
sandy slate washed clean
under waves of the sea.
Haiku written By:Patricia Sawyer
9-4-2008 and 10-1-2008
I hope Y'all have enjoyed my Haiku today. Maybe you can even imagine what image I was thinking of as I wrote some of them. I hope that every day you find something poetic in your own life. Something to have an AH Ha moment of your own. Enjoy life. Live it to the fullest that you can. Take a good, long, close, look at the world around you. You might be surprised at what you see. Have a great day!
Patsy
~ Robert Spiess (New and Selected Speculations on Haiku)
“Haiku has developed as a poem which expresses deep feelings for nature, including human beings. This follows the traditional idea that man is part of the natural world and should live in harmony with it. This differs from the Western way of thinking, in which man is regarded as independent of and perhaps superior to the rest of nature.”~ Sono Uchida President of the haiku International Association.
“Haiku forces us to get out of the loops and worries or depressing thoughts by demanding that we use our senses to explore what is around the body at this very second.” ~Jane Reichhold
A few months ago I was happily searching for writing classes to take free on-line. I found a lot of sights that of course had some catch ~ They were free after you paid to join. ~They were free if you bought a book. ~ Basically they weren't free.
Then I found the Allpoetry sight. And they had a whole section called learn. I was tickled to death. They had a whole lists of classes. And if there were a catch I couldn't find it.. ~ They do offer an up-grade on their sight for some small fee but you are welcomed to take the classes for free.~ I decided right then that I was going to take them all. After all, I love poetry and I made A's in school. I mean how hard can it really be.?!? I was even going to be sensible. I was going to take them two or three at the time. No need to be hoggish since I was pretty sure I had this class thing whipped.
I began with Dark Poetry which I had never written. I have only one more poem to write for that class. I have done very well there.. I have found that I have a dark side that also loves to write. I have enjoyed the class and am proud of myself for trying something new.
I also signed up for a class that teaches you to write for children. I am about half through that class. I loved it to begin with~ But all my kids are grown. I will finish the class but I'm not in a real hurry. My interest has changed.
The third class I signed up for was a Beginners Haiku writing class. I remembered Haiku from high school. I knew this class would be easy. I figured I'd knock the eighteen classes out in eighteen or twenty days. Depending on how slow the teacher was. Oh Boy was I ever WRONG!
First of all I had to forget everything I ever learned about writing Haiku. Forget the syllable counting and the story in three lines rules we learned in school. I want y'all to know ~ I who thought I could write anything~ have struggled with this class. I have wrote Haiku for years. I have won contests for Haiku. I love Haiku. I didn't know the first thing about Haiku. I even told Dave that I didn't think the teacher liked me. As if he could know me enough to decide. I cried. I cursed. Y'all know I cursed a lot when he said "do it again please!" and then I cursed some more when he said, " almost but not quiet. One more time."
Finally, after a few months of writing and re-writing and reading and studying. I am doing well in a Beginners Haiku class. So much for me knocking that class out quick. So much for me having any of them "whipped". I wasn't as smart as I thought I was. Nor as good at writing Haiku as my teachers in school assured me I was. But I am learning. I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks. I have learned that every Haiku should have an A Ha moment.. They should also cause the reader to think. I am sharing some of my Haiku with you tonight. Haiku also are not supposed to have titles.. I have given these titles only to keep them straight for myself ~And because a sight that I post a lot of my work on won't take anything without a title.
Please enjoy.
Quail
sleeping quail~
soft snores forgotten
under a blanket of Gravy
In the Cemetery
an old cemetery
tilted gravestones thrusting
~ a Hare nibbles grass
Hissing Grass
vigilant reptile
Rippled over the rocks
Hissing Grass swirls
Into the River
mourners squawk~
Red tailed Hawk follows
Daisies downstream
Clean Slate
driftwood drawn words~
sandy slate washed clean
under waves of the sea.
Haiku written By:Patricia Sawyer
9-4-2008 and 10-1-2008
I hope Y'all have enjoyed my Haiku today. Maybe you can even imagine what image I was thinking of as I wrote some of them. I hope that every day you find something poetic in your own life. Something to have an AH Ha moment of your own. Enjoy life. Live it to the fullest that you can. Take a good, long, close, look at the world around you. You might be surprised at what you see. Have a great day!
Patsy
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