Giving Thanks… and Pie?

I do this to myself all. the. time.  I get a prompt in my inbox and I think, “Oh yeah, baby, I know what I’m gonna write”. And then some annoying person comes and asks me for a stupid pen or lead for their pencil or whatever. And so I have to put it aside.  And then two days pass by, nothing written, and a new prompt shows up and I think, “Oh yeah, baby. I know exactly what I’m gonna write…” And then. I gotta send out a box… Well, you get the idea. I have come to realise that work is getting in the way of me doing what I really want to do. And it is NOT fetching office supplies (supplies, by the way, that they could get all by their own damn selves if they just walked into the supply room room which is not ten paces from where I sit).  But I digress with my impromptu mini-rant.

So Last Monday, dVerse was Haibun Monday – Giving Thanks.  I know where I’m going with that one.

And then on the Thursday that followed, dVerse was Pie Poetry – didn’t have to be related to Thanksgiving, though it was the ‘Murican Thanksgiving, of course.  I gots me pie stories to tell…

So here I am the following week, having written three (four?) other posts with this one still hanging out in drafts.  I almost left it in drafts to die a slow death but then decided, nope. Let’s go crazy and actually finish it!  So I decided to mush the two prompts together, somehow.

Giving Thanks With My Family Pie

My family means the world to me.  And I’m talking the whole gang:  from my grandmother, to my parents, to my aunts and uncles, to my sisters, my cousins, down to nieces and nephews, and my children.

Many are sadly gone now but they left their mark and they deserve a place at this table, in this peculiar pie.

No matter the situation, either one of us is a phone call and a drive-past-the speeding-limit drive away, urgency dependent, of course.

The birth of a baby, the death of one.  An injury sustained by a saw or a skull-cracking fall takes but one phone call, and the invisible director has called “Action!”.

It’s not only in moments of distress that we come together.  We join in celebrations: shopping for prom/wedding dresses, attending each other’s children’s recitals and games. And yes, we can even travel together!

They’ll call me on my shit, tell me I look like shit, give me shit, tell me my decision was shit.  But here’s the thing; so will I when they merit it.

They’ll celebrate my victories, tell me I look fabulous and let the world know they are proud of me.  Just like I will for them.

My family is a complex pie (it’s not even round) made up of varying slices (they’re not even, even) that you might think shouldn’t work together, but do.  Maybe they don’t all belong on the same plate, (some are savoury, some are sweet, some are spicy; all of them tart and not a few of them nutty) but they definitely belong in the same meal.

Holidays are fine

To give thanks to those we love

But every day’s best

 

 

 

Living in the Now

I so wanted to do this one last night but Yellowstone won over on my time!  Lillian has chosen to honour Björn Rudberg, one of the facilitators/keepers of the Pub of dVerse, who happens to be of Swedish descent and when you think of Sweden, what music comes to mind?  ABBA, of course!  So we are to take one line and one line only – word for word – from the song Dancing Queen and build our poem around it.  How cool is that?

 

Living in the Now

 

Gone the crunch of newly fallen snow beneath my running feet

Gone the rustle of the marcescent leaves holding on to the oak trees

Gone the scrape of shovels on sidewalks, the screech of snow ploughs

 

For now, we are baking in the Mexican sun, discovering pyramids

We are snorkeling in Roatan, discovering brightly-coloured fish

We are drinking Champagne cocktails and eating like royalty

We are dressed to the nines, far away from the office grind

 

We are at the back of the boat (the stern for the purists)

Where they play the right music

And the wind dries our sweat as we dance with a frenzy

That only happens when you are away from the real

 

Because for this one week of the year

The surreal is our real

And we want to live it at its fullest

 

Not the Crown I Want

It’s Quadrille Monday on dVerse – which just so happens to be one of my favourite of the prompts.  A 44-word poem? Count me in! De Jackson aka WhimsyGizmo is hosting and she wants us to use the word Crown.  While walking around Old Montreal yesterday, I snapped this bicycle, thinking it would make for an interesting fun subject one day.  Who knew I would use it so soon? It can be part of the fun project of using one photo with a short text or this.  Or both!

They say I’m next in line
That it is meant to be
I fear I must decline
There’ll be no crown for me

With a bicycle of gold
I shall set myself free
For the ruling days of old
Were never meant for me

Weekend Writing Prompt #236 – Blue

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments. Thank you Sammi!

My head and camera (the phone one) has been in the clouds for the past few days.  Might as well make that work, right?  And yet, a thought, clear as day, pops into my mind for this prompt yet I cannot put it into words. What is up with that?  So I start and I add and I remove and I move around until I erase the whole damn thing and write it in one fell swoop.  How does that happen?

 

wk 236 blue

 

Blue and white

Seeing images in the clouds is child’s play

Who doesn’t love to play?

Blue is white and white is blue

A negative effect that has me

seeing smoke curling out

of a chimney-tree

While the sun looks on

 

Weekend Writing Prompt #235 – Mirror

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments.  Thank you, Sammi, for hosting this weekly party!

wk 235 mirror

 

Tempestuous, slate-grey clouds
hang heavy in the sky
mirroring my hungover state
waiting to free themselves

I could curl up into a ball and bemoan my state, or
Be inspired by my love (suffering similarly)
who found the wherewithal to go out and run
I’m inspired

Before long
the crunch of gravel under my feet
erases the pounding in my head
I rejoice in the colours of the leaves
Against the grey, above, and below

The rain starts, and rather than run faster
I slow to a walk
A cleansing of sorts
Alive once again

Missing Zeke – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #156

When I saw this week’s Crimson Creative Challenge Prompt, I thought, hmmm… reminds me of another we had done, awhile ago.  So I went searching and was surprised to find that the prompt, no. 108, was issued on December 3, 2020, and I responded, as I often do, the next day, so on the 4th.  Exactly five months later, my boy Zeke was with the angels.  And now?  It is six months, to the day of his passing. I guess sometimes there is a numerical thing that goes on. This time with the number 4.  Anyway. I digress and blather on. A little poem, for Zeke

Eleven months to the day I wrote about you

How you had slowed down and we had switched places

Where once you waited for me,

I now waited for you

Five months to the day, you slowed to a stop

Passing over the Rainbow Bridge

Such a lovely expression, isn’t it?

 

My walks still take place in various woods around me

And each time I think how much you would

have loved this one, or that one

I sometimes think I see you out yonder

And I wait and I wait and I wait

But I know, deep in my heart

it is naught but wishful thinking

Weekend Writing Prompt #233- Vellichor

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments.  I so love when Sammi chooses a word I have to look up. How could I resist?  I couldn’t.

 

wk 233 vellichor

That Je Ne Sais Quoi

 

“The Book Nook”

Senses stimulated

Eyes see shelves and piles of books

Ears hear soft classical in the background

Fingers touch soft, used leather

Nose takes in that scent of musty

Together they make up a feeling

John Koenig calls it vellichor

Strange wistfulness

Sounds right to me

 

Gone Phishing

Sarah hosted Quadrille Monday yesterday on dVerse.  This week’s quadrill (a 44-word poem) must include a form of the word ash.  I was going to go in a whole ‘nother direction but then… yesterday’s shit-for-brains moment would not leave me alone.  All’s well that ends well thanks to a co-worker basically saving my sorry ass.  She was already my favourite in this company and I cannot express my gratitude enough for what she did for me.  Thank you, Tania!

Nothing like real life to nudge the muse…

A one thousand dollar error

leaves me sick to my stomach

 

A request seemingly not out of the norm

worded in such a way as to not question

 

Realisation sets in

that I have been played

 

Leaving a taste of ash in my mouth

 

 

 

True Reflections – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #112

This has been hanging out in my drafts since, well, forever!  I had trouble finding the original challenge since Crispina posted it last December… and I took my picture a few months ago, thinking, I seem to remember there being a puddle reflection back sometime ago.  I was right and here is the result.  Good thing Crisp insists there is no time limit 😉

 

There are those whose reflections are pristine:

perfection personified, not a flaw to be found.

Are they true?

Does the pretty exterior hide an ugly interior?

One should not be so quick to judge:

not the too pretty, nor the too plain

for neither may be truthful

The imperfect reflection

may actually hide

the real and honest beauty

hiding inside

When we stop judging the exterior

and take the time to learn what hides beneath,

both the pretty and the plain

can shine with their own version of beautiful

 

 

 

In a Barren Field – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #149

As many of you know, when I do decide to participate in Crispina’s challenge, I like to find a matching photo.  I can’t say that I’ve ever taken a picture of wind turbines, however, I was immediately reminded of a picture I once took in similar conditions. Always fun to get that muse going, isn’t it?

In a barren field, I look to my left

there is nothing

save for three mechanical trees

their metallic branches turning,

harnessing the wind

creating energy

Will more be planted?

 

In a barren field, I look to my right

there is nothing

save for one tree, its branches

stretching up, reaching

playing with the wind

creating energy

Will this one be replaced?