Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Saturday writers' group - Poems: Just Another homeless Vet - Half Light - Giving Tuesday

I never followed up about our writers' group at B's house.

We call it the Beehive, right Martha?

Martha wrote a couple chapters of some characters who were prancing around her mind. Twas about gay men, something I don't read much about.

Altho on FB, someone posted John O'Hara's poem about Lana Turner.

View it here. 

Well, actually, I had wrin the entire blog, complete with photos, but the darn thing would not publish!

DECEIT AND SEDUCTION was an essay by Beatriz about how the Lady Slipper Orchid catches prey to  pollinate her.

Image result for lady slipper

I'm coming, Mama, I'm coming! Can't wait to get inside you!

I brought cheese n crackers for all of us.....

DONNA wrote one of her dark poems that was very dark and very good. 

BOB, Donna's brother, read a story about how grateful he is to be alive. He had heart surgery.

LINDA wrote one of her stunners... the way that woman thinks, we all remarked, a story of hate and revenge between a mother and daughter. Linda, btw, has a great relationship with her own mom.

REM wrote the last chapter of his novel. He got very emotional b/c he was writing about his beloved late wife, Valerie, who passed only a year and a half ago. He is positive he will meet her again on the other side.

As usual he made reference to many songs.

Now that I've wrin the highlights of the meeting, since I can't remember the details, may I now bore you with some poems I've wrin on FB?


Once I walked around
the Willow Grove mall
maintaining a rapid pace
the clock tower I wrote
an article about chimed
twelve times, knock knock
you're dead

He came out of nowhere
a handsome young man
and asked if I'd walk
with him

He'd served in one of
our wars, forget which
one, and would deploy
again in two weeks

Ate out of garbage bins
the food sustained him
His girlfriend had
dropped him. I thought
I knew why, the smell
of booze enveloped him
like a halo

Meantime he slept in
the woods, covered by
leaves, twigs and bits
of cloth blowing in
the breeze, a friend of
the deer, the groudhogs
ad skunks

Gotta go, I said, and
stopped. Pulled out a twenty
from my purse and pressed it
into his warm hand. And


I awoke from my turkey slumber
and poked my head out the upstairs
drapes. So little light, a
soft nearly purple palette
of color.

The houses across the street
were lined up like soldiers
keeping sentry. Not a single
light on.

Huge piles of swept-up
autumn leaves crouched
like silent stallions
in the road, waiting,
just waiting, for
children's noisy


You MUST read this hilarious blog about raising money.

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