Saturday, April 12, 2014

Coffeeshop Writers' Group - The Fab Four Show Up - My poems: Grace Catherine Deming -The Neighborhood - Diabetes Holds the Power of Life and Death

 Carly went to New Hope and couldn't resist this huge ring she bought. Double-click to make it larger, not the ring, silly, the photo!

Carly brought in a great poem she wrote this morning: "Soft Greens of Spring," a phrase she repeated between stanzas.

Without white winters windy chilling winds
We would not revel in the first kisses of the

Soft Greens of Spring.

I said, "Submit it, Carly!"

Where? Right here, Carly.  

 Carly wore a new spring pocketbook, we think is designed by Diane von Furstenberg. If I could find it online as a backpack, I'd buy it. Why backpacks? Good for people with back problems.

Donna of the Beautiful Nails and Coffee with chocolate in it brought in "Precious Moments." We didn't like the title so she'll change it.

She had also unwittingly written two poems in one. Both were good. Selected lines

The refrain was When I'm Gone

When I'm Gone you'll find me at my grandson's wedding.

She told of all the places she'd be after she was gone. It was her BF Denny who suggested she use that refrain.

Now that's true love, to be so involved with the poetry. A great partner is always interested in everything their mate is. That's how we evolve!
Martha wrote a beautiful poem about me, noticing things in my house from when she came for lunch the other day.

She made me a special copy on firm green paper, which I put on the bottom of my shopping cart so it wouldn't get crushed.

After I wheeled the cart to the car, unloading my groceries for tomorrow's guests, I bent down to retrieve the poem..... and it had vanished.

Just called Jeff at the Giant, who didn't have it in the L & F but I gave him my contact info in case he finds it.

Martha was really taken by my house!

Stopped at Mom's after the group. I try to visit her every Saturday. Gave her a magnet of a Hand I got at the AVAM.

Mom, Ellen and I sat on the screened-in back porch in the gorgeous spring weather. Mom was bundled up in a sweater, while I was sweating in a new cotton sweater, one of my Kohl's exchange purchases for my Shark vacuum.

Mom's mind is very good but she doesn't remember unimportant details. I told her Linda Barrett had visited a couple of yrs ago. I was fairly sure she wouldn't remember it, and she did not.

Interesting how when you deal with people, you learn what they're likely to remember or not.

While sitting on the porch, the birds were all a'twitter. Simply beautiful. Do you think we're hardwired to love bird sounds?

Also shared my new Guest Column: April is National Poetry Month. In 700 words, I had to educate people on giving poetry a chance to move them. I'd called Alan Kerr, editorial page editor of the Intelligencer, who said his readers would not be interested.

Then I called their sister paper, The Bucks County Courier Times, and the editor said to email it in. I think the column's great and hope she can use it.

Question I asked the group. Does caffeine make you a sharper thinker? I believe it does. I was up writing last nite for five hours, finally bedding down at 4 am, and sleeping soundly until 11.

Wrote four poems, one of which is included in the newspaper article, but, of course, as a special treat to the 10 people who read this blog, I'll publish it here.

Grace Catherine Deming

She’s four             
fearless as a           
skyscraper! My heart
leaps when I see her curls. She shouts

I took a Poetry Workshop two weeks ago with Lynn Levin. She had us work with several different poetry forms, such as the above “cinquain.”

The syllabic meter is



In the middle of the night
I awoke
something was wrong
very wrong
my legs propelled me
past my stationery bike
and down the stairs
darkness outside
darkness within
Watch me stumble
to the kitchen
switch on the light
it blinds me with
its wah-wah rhythms

Leaning over the
table, I think
“You’re low!
Your sugar
so low you’ll
pass out. Scott
will find you in the
morning, blue, stiff
ready for the sarcophagus.

My brain had forgotten
how to think
See me pound my
fist on the table
Save yourself or die!
A shiver of thrill
went through me
I saw Death,
sitting in the empty chair.

"Fucker!" I cried,
as I found my bag of
whole grain pretzels
at the table’s edge

Crunch! said the bag
I stuck in my hand
a bear at the hive
and came up with all
the honey I needed, and,
shaking, trembling,
and sweating,
saved my life.
This time.


Invisible in my new
five-dollar sunglasses
my steed pulls into
The Neighborhood
people, alone,
in their worlds,
drive by,
I cast a glance
toward them
with love.

How proud I am
of the woman who
drives a tall red Jeep
how brave! hair
flying in the wind
I wave
does she wave back?

Colorful shapes,
like a Calder sculpture
shine on the lawn
near the porch.
Yes, we’re
fearless in the
refusing to put
away toys we’ll
need for tomorrow.

Only a few Jews
live on Cowbell
I was the first
and clasp my hands
in prayer
as I pass the Madonna
in the front yard
five doors down
Dear Jesus, I pray,
protect our neighborhood
and never
let me die.

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