Saturday, September 12, 2015

Writers' Group - The White Sheltering Tent - Death of a Sparrow

Very nice turnout.

I was on FB a couple minutes ago. One of my Friends, who lives in the Boston area, was walking behind a Muslim woman whose body was covered with a black burka.

You know what Mr Simms did? He cursed and screamed at her and told her to go back to her country of origin.

His Friends liked what he said.

I was furious and gave him a piece of my mind that America is for everyone. If you saw a Jew walking with a yarmulka on his had, would you yell at him?

FB can occasionally be an awful place.

Visited Mom and Ellen after the Writers' Group. Both doing well. Mom's mind was very sharp when I told her about the chairman of Temple University's Physics Dept - a Chinese- American - being arrested for "secrets" and then all the charges were dropped.

"There must be more to the story than that," she said.

She's making Carrot Soup for Rosh Hashanah, which starts tomro night. Wonder if I'll be invited.


Judy wrote a fabulous prose-poem about afflicted individuals finding solace under The White Sheltering Tent. Written in 2007, she dusted it off to bring to us today.

All of us are afflicted in one way or another.

Beatriz said she felt very weak and drove a motorized wheelchair. She brought in a Book Review of Beneficial Insects. There's more than just ladybugs and aphids. She always impresses us with her great use of words - Spanish is her first language - including, 'it behooves me' - knottily - and several more.

Martha, nattily dressed, wrote a piece she worked on last night and this morning. New guy Remington is just learning the way Martha and me, too, write.... we're last minute writers.

Marf's husband David told her to write about the characters residing in her head. Introduce them to one another, he said.

She used the word "Author" to describe the author of the universe. Brilliant, says I. They were as real as the characters in Wuthering House. With one difference. They did not exist. Yet. The Author had not released them.

Remington wrote one of his unusual poems "B Movie."  A swell poem that used a "catalog" as it's called - a list - of B movies, horror films mostly.

It began with a 'seed pod," coming to life, reminiscent of one of the best SF films ever -

Image result for invasion of the body snatchers 1956  Invasion of the Body Snatchers with Kevin McCarthy and Dana Winter.

Rem liked the film b/c the bad guys win! 

Linda's story "Lucy in Paradise" had wonderful creative ideas but was filled with too many characters who were hard to follow. She'll concentrate on just a few.

I had so many ideas for short stories but concentrated on the most pressing idea, based on a true story about one of my therapy clients.

Phone Therapy is a tragic tale of a self-absorbed woman who is never happy. After her suicide at the end, it is found that she is a gifted poet. The therapist, Arlene, has been asked by Random House to write the introduction to the book.

Ah, I am draining the last of my tea now.

Image result for country peach tea

When I wrote my story and poem this morning, I was all coffee'd up.


The Lord gave me dominion
over the creatures in my yard
I obeyed with two swinging
bird houses and squirrel-proof
feeders that never ran out
of seed. This after all is not
the African continent where God
hides his eyes at the bloated bellies
of his starving children. I do not pretend
to understand His ways.

The thud came to my front window
Knowing what it was, I looked to see
if the bird had fallen behind the holly
bush, a nice place to die, I thought.

To my horror, the little fellow was
lying face down in the bird bath,
wings at rest, never to see the
wife and kids again, to soar above
the earth, over dozens of fragrant
barbeques, the occasional shimmering
of the backyard pool, the glorious green
trees where nests abide year round
squirrels balancing on the wire,
mourning doves chasing blue jays

Advancing to the bird bath, I tip
the sparrow to the grass below.
Let the creatures have their way
with him. In the dead of night the
raccoon may waddle in. What better
than a free meal, thinks the masked

I eat my garden salad on the
front porch, in full view of
the sparrows, doves, cardinals
and neighbors. All of us put here on
earth for a reason. Do you
know yours?    

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