Peer Pressure

Mama said, "Careful!"
"Girl, keep them dress and shoes clean
For supper tonight."

Broad Street Busker

Seven years and seven days
He played the street called Broad each day
And waited for the tinkling sound
Of change the passers threw his way.
He sang until his throat was sore.
He played until his fingers bled
Then went back to his alley home
Laid down his head and said this prayer.

"Lord, thank you for my day of song
And thank you for the change I won.
Please be with those who could not hear
Embarrassed by the clothes I wear.
They do not have the heart to see
The joy I find in being me.
And even in this alley way
Beside the refuse of the day
I know with my guitar at hand
I'll never be a lonely man.
But they who walk my street undone
By bosses, meetings, money lost and won
They fight as I did in Vietnam
But don't know the toll its taking.
Please keep my alley safe and dry.
Please keep my throat and fingers spry.
Be with the wife I left behind
I love her still, you know my mind."

Today the busker's raspy song
Is missing here on 4th and Broad.
The police have not discovered yet
But I know that he must be dead.
He knew his place and role to play.
He never missed a single day.
He chose life dirty, loud and free.
He was the happiest man in Tennessee.

They did not have the heart to see
The joy he found in being free.
I know with his guitar at hand
He never was a lonely man.

A Poem I Love

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

By Elizabeth Bishop, 1922

Of her work, Robert Lowell remarked, "Elizabeth Bishop is the contemporary poet that I admire most ... There's a beautiful completeness to all of Bishop's poetry. I don't think anyone alive has a better eye than she had: The eye that sees things and the mind behind the eye that remembers."

A Sevenling for My Mom

She loves three things the best:
The beach, the palm,
A calm sea on which to snorkle.

She hates navy blue,
the taste and smell of popcorn,
And muscle aches.

...And she gave birth to me.


The sevenling is a poem of seven lines inspired by the form of
this much-translated short verse by Anna Akhmatova (1889 - 1966).

He loved three things alone:
White peacocks, evensong,
Old maps of America.

He hated children crying,
And raspberry jam with his tea,
And womanish hysteria.

... And he married me.

Favorite Last Lines

Looking at great first lines made me want to research great last lines. Here are some classics. What are youre favorites?

A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."

Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare
"Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardoned, and some punished;
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo."

Stan's Decision

Celia loved the feeling of the weightless heat all around her, but she didn't know how she had ended up in the tub. She heard footsteps on the wood floor in the bedroom and turned to see Stan walk through the bathroom door in his undershirt and suspenders. She loved the way he looked in his undershirt and suspenders, his hair slick and black with gel.

"Did I drink too much again?" She cringed up at him from the tub.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

She looked at her bright red toenails sticking up from the suds at the other end of the tub. She wiggled them to be sure they were hers.

"Did I make a scene?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Mary Mother... I'm sorry."

Stan shrugged and headed back out the door.

Celia scrambled to her feet.

"Stan."

He turned. Water ran in rivulets down her body. She didn't speak right away. He waited, looking down. He knew she wanted him to look at her naked, to feel desire.

She cocked a hip.

"Could you be a doll and get a girl a night cap?"

Stan's sad eyes flashed to Celia's face. Only then did Celia see the open suitcase on the bed behind him. Her languid smile turned to a grimace of disbelief.

"You're leaving me?!"

She stepped angrily out of the tub toward him. Her foot touched the ground for only a second before it slid on the wet floor unbalanced by the alcohol. She fell in a heap back into the tub, splashing water over the sides, drenching the walls and floor. She sputtered up, gasping for breath. She rubbed her eyes and looked for Stan. He was still standing motionless as water spread toward his wingtips.

Celia slapped the water with both hands in frustration.

"You're such a coward...," She began, but Stan turned, left the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He'd heard that speech before.

Favorite First Lines

REALSIMPLE magazine asked "What is your favorite first line of a novel" and here are some of the responses they received. What is your favorite first line?

Charlotte's Web by E.B. White
"'Where's Papa going with that ax?,' said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast."

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson
"We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold."

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."

The Secret Garden by Hodgson Burnett
"When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen. It was true, too."

Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
"Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta."

Curfew

Pete hid behind the broken fence, breathing in the darkness. Fear made his nerves sing and every sensation on his skin was like an electric shock; the grass under his fingertips as he knelt, the material tight against his knees. He knew they had seen him. He couldn't hear them from where he hid. They would be searching, quietly, calmly. They would find him eventually, why rush? How had he let it get so late? Annie. Oh, Annie Maddox. He would never see her again. Good reason to go, he guessed. If he had pulled away from her arms when he ought, would he be on his cot dreaming of her now? Who can say. These days, he might have been charged for trespassing in her sector just as easily as for breaking curfew. These days, any reason was a good reason to "detain" a Peg. He tried to slow his breathing and think about escape but his thoughts settled on Annie. Annie didn't care that he was Peg. When they met none of that mattered. It wasn't so long ago. Back then their sector schools had still co-mingled. Annie helped him up after the Lander bullies beat him. She brushed his leg. He could still feel her fingers knock the gravel from his bloodied knees. He heard soft male voices and a shuffle through the weeds. They would have dogs. It was only a matter of time. Barking. The dogs had smelled him. Barking, getting louder. He couldn't fight it, he stood and ran. Shouting. SHOUTING. One more breathe of darkness.

Back in Blog!

10 Totally Random Haikus to Celebrate My Return to the Blogosphere

ONE
It seemed like a good
Idea at the time,
Now its just itchy.

TWO
Twenty nine again?
You have a way of aging
Backwards, patent it.

THREE
I ate it but then
After chewing and swallowing
I regretted it.

FOUR
Days in Hawaii
Feel like mere minutes in time
Here a mere minute
Feels like an eternity.

FIVE
Ahh, the subtle sound
Of my ukulele song,
A bit out of tune.
(The girl in 12E hates me.)

SIX
Chocolate icing
On chocolate chip cupcakes
Chocouphoria.

SEVEN
Bright yellow pollen
On my car, in my nose, and
on my clothes. AahChoo!

EIGHT
Black sky rolls creeping
Across my 8th story view.
Forboding, silent.

NINE
Ben Franklin tells me
"Oh, stop your belly-aching."
And, of course, he's right.

TEN
Already its May.
Where have the days gone down the
Endless stream of time?