humor

Mama’s Refrain

lillian5 Comments

Hatless, wind ruffled hair
winter snow flake dandruff
red ears and mustache icicles.
Iowa snow gnome I am
when I see my breath.
Ninety percent of your body heat
escapes from your head.
Well mom, that’s why I’m so cool!

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Photo: corner of Boston’s Court and Tremont Streets several winters ago. Story behind the giant tea kettle: manufactured in 1873 by Hicks & Badger; a “sign” outside the old Oriental Tea Kettle shop. Signs were common in early Boston to identify shops for those who could not read. On January 1, 1875 a contest was held to guess its capacity and Boston’s Sealer of Weights & Measures officially measured it.  10,000 spectators stood by as 8 boys and 1 tall man concealed themselves inside the kettle. The court was officially measured to hold 227 gallons, 2 quarts, 1 pint, and 3 gills. An attached mechanism produced steam. To this day, in the cold winter months, steam is seen coming out of the kettle. Starbucks made a wise decision to place their store here!
Poetry prompt: final assignment in Fall 2015 Poetry Apprenticeship with Holly Wren Spaulding:  write an “advice” poem — perhaps from shoulds and should nots of your early days!

 

Old Woman?

lillian18 Comments

I am an old woman
with the audacity to hope.
I shall wear purple
and travel to 1,000 places,
walk in the woods, eat, pray
and make love to a staggering genius.
I shall write letters from the earth
to all my friends above.
Tell them plain and simple,
at this age, the heart leaps
much higher than leaden feet
and I intend to do the long jump.
I will not stay off camera.
And I will settle for nothing less
than a raucous standing ovation
when I do decide to exit
center stage.

books 1 books 2 books 3 books 4

In the form of Found Poetry:  created from book titles on my shelf –  When I am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple, The Audacity of Hope, 1,000 Places to Live, A Walk in the Woods; Eat, Pray, Love; A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Letters from the Earth, Plain and Simple, and Off Camera.

October 31, 2015

Sousa by Nature

lillian4 Comments

He chose a hickory nut tree
acorns too dainty,
tinny in their ping.

Tree-felled hickory nuts
percussive on the roof
pelted solid deep raps.

Band leader by trade
he created a Sousa drum line
directly above our heads.

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Photo credit: Mike Vam.  John Phillip Sousa:  1854 – 1932. American composer most famous for his military marches IE Stars and Stripes Forever and Sempir Fidelis (official march of the U.S. Marines).

Disappearing Hood

lillian8 Comments

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Wrap around porch with hanging swing
iced tea chats and potted plants
playing dolls with Junie Z
on a summer night lit by fireflies.

Sliding glass door shut ramrod tight
concrete slab with charcoal grill
removed from prying eyes.

Two steps to double locked doors
reined in yard with triple garage
and wooden horse blinder fence.

The word neighbor? Gone.
It hopped a moving van,
took a right on the expressway
and drove right out of our lexicon.

 

Shadow Me

lillian13 Comments

Motivator for my Shadow poem

We walk, you in front of me
one created flesh and bone
the other born of sun
elongated faceless gray.

Seamlessly
we stroll the beach
arms out wide, now close in
darkness plays with light.

I stop you stop
your head turns as mine.
We follow a gull’s flight
rising from the sea.

If I turn, reverse my course
will you dance behind,
like the kite that zigs and zags
when its master loosens hold?

Revised, revisited from a very early post. How I love Cape Cod and playing with my shadow!

Dancer Down

lillian5 Comments

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There it was. Audition.
Wanted: 100 dancers
for three months prep
to perform in Boston’s Copley Square.
No experience required.

I did the same thing,
twenty years ago
in Iowa.
Auditioned.
And was selected to perform.
Ninety-nine hoofer-wanna-bees
plus Gene Kelly and me.
Thousands watched us
in the Big-Ten half-time show
or took a trip for hotdogs
and the john.

So I did it. Again.
And made it.
Again.
Ninety-nine plus me
two nights every week.
Loud fast rehearsals
with slow
every day repeats
at home
to video
online.
I should have known.
I was twenty years older
not newer
and certainly not digital.

One month to go.
On our burgundy shag carpet
five-six-seven-eight
and again
right-turn-slide-spin.
Repeat at studio
on unforgiving wooden floor.
Five-six-seven-eight……
Crap.……dancer down.

Legs sag. Muscles be damned.
Relegated to RICE.
Rest-Ice-Compression-and-
– – oh hell. I forget
what the E stands for.

Originally posted on March 23, as Self-Portrait: Dancer Down, just my third post ever….revisited and revised. No Likes then, no comments, two followers (my family members)!