Catching up - Sarah will go to Rio - Poem: To Our beloved Stephen Jarrell Williams - Writers Group - Poems: Bastille Day - Dinner at Ada's

My daughter Sarah will go to Rio for the Olympics. Here's what her husband Ethan wrote on his latest blogpost.

Am not worried about her in Rio.

  If Michael Phelps can go, so can Sarah Lynn.

 I asked Sarah earlier today if she likes to swim. She said Yes but not as much as I do.

Scott and I drove over to the Upper Moreland Township Pool yesterday, just beyond my old haunts at Village Green Apts.

The parking lot was mobbed. I may just join for the month of August. 

***

Something shook me last night. Stephen Jarrell Williams said he would post three of my poems, not on Calvary Cross, but on Dead Snakes. I'm waiting and waiting.

Turns out that for some reason he's closed down these two blogs.

Here's a poem I posted about him this morning on FB.

TO OUR BELOVED STEPHEN JARRELL WILLIAMS

Who knew your websites
Calvary Cross and
Dead Snakes
would vanish
with the morning light?

Fool that I am
I thought they'd
be inspiring us
for years to come
like your God
eternal!

Can you see me
Stephen? I've
said the Bar-ruch-a
over my cheese omelet
watered the garden
and howdy'd the birds

Yet my mind is
disturbed. Your
mustache quivers
in your online
photo. Unlike you
I am no bard nor
prophet, yet closing
down your mansions
does not bode well.

Keep your unblinking faith
Know that we who followed you
Will keep you tucked inside
and always remember your
emails, "You have been published
in Calvary Cross"
Cheers and blessings,
Stephen.

WRITERS GROUP AT B'S HOUSE

Kym Cohen returned. Drove over from Bensalem. She's doing remarkably well tho she has cancer.

Linda wrote a religious poem everyone loved.

 We thanked B for hosting us. Rem read another entertaining chapter from his novel. Note to Rem:  Forgot to return your ms with my feedback on it. It was quite good.

Kym wrote - and I don't have my notes now - Bright Promise - about her future.

Martha wrote a commentary on how a person writes a romance novel. Publish it somewhere I said. Outstanding!

Donna dazzled us with a prose poem.

 I wrote a short story called The Day Trip. It was actually based on a married couple - artists - I'm very fond it.

Donna's pancake brown is from the beach she and Denny went to. Her bro Bob wrote a nice remembrance of going to the beach as a kid.

 You know how I love my salads. This one has olives in it and chives from the garden.

Just got home from my podiatrist Ron Renzi. His office is connected to his house, just like our feet are connected to our legs. Nice home with oriental rugs on the floor. He wears a suit. Has a fantastic face. Very friendly. Let's see if I can find one online.

    He sees very unhealthy patients with diabetes. But he speaks so kindly about them. They have difficulty changing their diet which of course may lead to complications of diabetes, which is why I was there.

I had a new pain in my upper left foot.

"I don't want to have any amputations," I told him. And mentioned my stationery bike riding. He said his patients are familiar with all this but are unable to change.

Scott and I finally used up my Wawa gift card. We went to the Willow Grove Wawa and waited in line for our supper for 25 minutes.

Did we do anything wrong, Scott asked me.

Was drinking some cold Dunkin with Mocha flavoring in it. Not delicious. Bought Haagen Dazz chocolate peanut butter ice cream.

Not great but impossible to stop eating. Maybe 6 bowls or half the carton.

There's nothing as delicious as a salad IF you like salads.

Do YOU? You can me the truth.

Here's a couple of leftover poems from FB. Asked Johnny Olson from Mad Swirl if he could publish the below poem but he said he's got a queue for the next couple of weeks.

BASTILLE DAY

The video showed them
running down the street
many on fire, burning,
like the unsuspecting
at Mount Vesuvius in
79 AD

Headlines screamed
84 dead, hundreds
wounded, as one loner
who never fit in
wreaked vengeance
and judgment on
his brothers
Stop the soccer game,
the time when the lump
went to your throat and
you felt so alone, unwanted.
Talk to someone! Your
father, your uncles,
your cousins.
More will follow. The
earth will be scorched
once again. Ashes
falling like tears
until the sun turns black.

***

DINNER AT ADA'S

Swim laps
Eat fruit off
toothpicks
Smell grill
firing up
Watch blue sky
darken toward night

Eat fat Hebrew National
hot dogs, two apiece, please
hot mustard and relish

Bush's baked beans
her pickled cukes
fresh vegetables
- Miss Reid at Mercer
insisted we pronounce
every syllable of
vegetable -

Brownies and
ice cream piled high
with hot home made fudge
sauce and what we
must do to vanquish
Trump, it's not
funny anymore, the
man who would be king.

   Scott and I are spending many happy moments watching America's Test Kitchen on NETFLIX.

We had no idea!