Saturday, April 25, 2015

Coffeeshop Writers - Poems by Kym Cohen - 2 Sonnets by Linda Barrett - My new poem: Aqua

Kym - The Chemo Kid - wrote some sweet little poems. Allan commented they were almost like haiku. I was reminded of Rumi, 13th century mystical poet from lands that are now The Afghan.

Kym's numbers are rising, which is good! She won't need a blood transfusion, which is great,


Fallen is he
I am the wind that lifts his chin
Caresses his fingers
Helps his spirit soar again
May he always feel I care
Wishing him peaceful calmness

I whisper in mind
He hears
"You're never alone"


As her world crumbles
He was the light
Her air
The Love in her heart


Thinking of our first day
sharing the sea gulls with you
I smile at the memory
Oh how we laughed

Kym maintains her positive cheerful attitude and we all believe she'll defeat her disease.


Here are two sonnets by Linda Barrett. 

 A Ministry of Love

@2015 Linda Barrett

I searched for you among the years

Each decade filled with longing

Faced my loneliness with tears

Looked for a sense of belonging

Among the crowds of humanity

None of my choices turned out right

In the end, they all disappointed me

Gave me many a tearful black night

God knew that He had you in mind

When He sent me onto my journey

I had the soul so understanding and kind

the one whom He sent on my ministry

to spread His word high and low

and erase your lonely sorrow.

The Tides of Time

@2015 Linda Barrett

Clocks and watches measure you

Digital and with many hands

They count off your steady numbers, too

From cell phones and wrist bands

Each second becomes an hour

An hour turns into another day

The sun shines on morning flowers

Then black night sweeps it away

Time, you move and flow

Independent of every time zone

We measure you either fast or slow

Try to capture you as our own

We curse you when you fly faster

Or lag behind our busy schedules

We cannot be your hard master

Foolish, we should soon tell

You rule this planet by your design

Independent of the tides of time


Linda Barrett, who, like me, takes Lynn Levin's "Sonnet" class at the Huntingdon Valley Library, wrote the above sonnets, including "A Ministry of Love" which contains the lines "searching for you among the years."

Allan, poet laureate of Hatboro, doffs his hat, and read two flash fiction pieces. One of them was "Which is witch?" As always, the end was a shocker.

The other "Safety First" was based on those "safeties" as we called hall guards or when they stood outside to help students cross the road.

He has a particular facility with choosing names for his characters such as Clem Bagley or Brad McGinniss, the man character, who gets his in the end. 

Allan plans to publish them in a book of 40 flash fiction pieces.


Carly and husband Charlie are in the midst of moving into Gloria Dei Farms assisted living facility off Davisville Road in Hatboro.

Before they got the job as Night Managers, they needed to respond Yes to two Qs:

Can you take your medicine by yourself?

Can you go in and out of the apartment by yourself?

They passed.

In a lovely gesture, Carly gave a huge desk that wouldn't fit into her smaller apartment to Adryn, one of our wonderful coffee ladies.

The coffeeshop will most likely be operated in June by Dunkin Donuts. Our baristas will be laid off. Hands up if you think that stinks?

In Carly's new place, they have a heated pool. I told my mom about this when I stopped over afterward. She said I'm the only one in my family - besides my dad - who likes to swim.

That's bc of you, Mom, I said. You took me to swimming lessons when I was 5 to Cleveland Heights High School.

When I was a little girl, I'd look out my window to find out what time it was. It was on the cupola. This photo is an artist's rendering of the proposed high school renovation.

Donna's poem "A Fortress for the Aging" was a description of Carly's new apartment. Many wonderful lines. So graphic you definitely want to visit.

Image result for downton abbey

The group read the short story I wrote this morning, "My Daughter, The Zookeeper."

Will refine it the morrow and send it off. Perhaps.

My new aqua-colored hallway.


Ed, the talkative color consultant, and I
confer. He flips
color cards back and forth,
talking nonstop.
Stop! I say, grabbing his thick white hand.
That’s it! I say.

My sojourn is over.
I paddle down aqua rivers
in my kayak, the sound of
the rapids in the distance,
the high Rockies
frighten me. Make me feel
alone. Lonely as the single
maple without her leaves.  

My aqua hallway brings me
joy and grief
Where is my childhood
back on Glenmore Road in
Shaker Heights?

An artist painted a mural on
our dining room wall
Rivers of aqua sailed behind us
when we had our seders
as a town in Sienna, from
the mural, looks our way.

Once, they were overrun
by Il Duce, who had the Jews
rounded up, as if we were
lice he picked off his ugly
bald pate.  

Time immemorial is writ
on these walls.
My children and grandchildren –
yes, I have reached that august age –
running across the walls, as if there’s a finish line,
and now, the endless cups of coffee I
drink, pinky lifted, from fine porcelain
cups, my whole life buried in these
walls, while an unknown sarcophagus
awaits me, as I sip, pinky lifted,
on an aromatic brew called 
Hot Cinnamon Spice.

* ****

Spent all day yesterday watching movies - Netflix, You Tube, or from the library.

Watched The Winds of War, a mini-series by Herman Wouk, who also wrote the screenplay.

Born of Jewish parents in the Bronx, he's still alive at 99. From his photo he certainly looks "with it."

Got the idea of Il Duce from Winds of War. 

No comments:

Post a Comment