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Aside

Poetry Invoking Photos Let’s Write

What does this photo say to you?

I’m thinking we’ll do this every week … maybe more… with a new photo.

Write a short poem or lyric about what you feel when you see this photo. Does it speak to you? Speak to it. Speak to us.

Share your thoughts, words, and your poetry invoking photos with us as well in the comments. I’ll push them to posts as they come in. Hope you share yours.

Peace,

Jo

 

On Childhood ~

 I remember childhood.

We went out after breakfast to play in the neighborhood “somewhere”.  The term “neighborhood” was very loosely defined as I recall.

Lambertville,NJ ~ New Hope, PA

We went to the creek, walked on the tracks, picked berries, visited the farmers field, explored neighbors barns and garages, held “seances” where we lifted Porky Hayes with our pinky fingertips!  Probably ate peanut butter crackers someone’s Mom made us all for a picnic lunch on their lawn.

Lunch over we played tag and baseball and kickball and hid in the most gawd awful dangerous places but no one made a fuss….wee regularly spent time exploring the treasures in basements and attics, barns, garages, abandoned houses. It was great.

In the evenings when it started to get dark we’d all gather together on Patty Strouse ‘ s front porch ~ home base for the famous neighborhood game: Jail Breaks (aka hide and seek) and when we were “IT” we shouted “apple, peaches, pumpkin pie, who’s not ready holler aye! Ready or not here I come!” Every night in the spring, summer and fall.

In winter we went sledding and tobogganing down Mr. Holcombe ‘s hill or the horse farm hill and yes many times we ended up in the road at the bottom. We dried our soaking wet mittens on the nearest neighbors big giant hole in the floor beautifully ornate cast iron heating grate (sometimes our own) and hung out in their living rooms until they were warm enough to wear or our toes were thawed out enough to go back out in the blizzard. We dug snow tunnels and built igloos and played in them for hours. If one collapsed we just dug out the “victims” and made a new one. No one told us that we couldn’t do it again.

We walked to and from school. Went to grandma’s at lunch then back to school. Catechism on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, church on Sunday….all by ourselves. We walked everywhere but we had to check in when the street lights came on. If we had a nickel or a dime we could walk up the hill to the corner store … (aunt Marion lived upstairs, sometimes we’d stop there if she was home from working in the hippie store in new hope…so cool!) … for a candy bar or ice cream cone. Penny candy was 3 for a penny. Sometimes we roller-skated like a band of young criminals through neighborhoods. We cut through everyone’s back yards, were allowed in for a glass of water and sometimes a band-aid.

We walked in the Halloween parade, Easter parade, labor day parade, rode decorated bikes in the memorial day parade, went to the fireworks on the 4th of july and the firemen’s carnivals all summer long where we ate cotton candy without a hint of shame. No one followed us or put us on a leash or outfitted us with cellphones or GPS trackers. We didn’t have nannies or neighborhood watch. We got in the occasional brawl, fistfight, tussle. Skinned our knees, broke our arms, got hit in the face with softball pitches (not so soft btw).  And no one got sued. No one’s parents raged over to tell another kid’s parents all about it. If we got in trouble with a teacher at school, WE faced the consequences, not the teacher or school board. We learned to behave decently.

We only got 3 channels on the TV and then only if pop went up to the roof to adjust the aerial antenna while one of us stood in front of the TV to check for a clear signal while another of us hung our head out the window to yell up to the rooftop when we “got it!”. It was a big to do to watch Disney on Sunday nights or Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. We went to MomMom & PopPop’s every Sunday for dinner. We had the same pot roast, mashed potatoes and home made rice pudding for desert every single week.and we LOVED IT!  We had to endure the Larry Ferrari hour before dinner and the Phillies game blasted through the neighborhood on every Dad’s TV in the afternoon. We played clarinet or cello or sang a song for pop pop and we went home full and happy to spend the evening collecting lightning bugs in a jar.

This is what childhood “used to be” and it’s a sad sad thing to have been lost before this generation could even begin to taste it.

Like

Don’t Question Perfection

 

 

what’s in another?

we’ll never

look like them

there’s

no stopping here

no reason

have you seen

the face in

the mirror

why question

perfection

take a good look

see what

we all have

in common

no?

exactly

look again

you hold the record

for

being

you

and what

could possibly be

wrong with

that?

© 2014, J.H.

Perpetual Perfection

 (aka Life Goes On)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh

what have we here

imagine this

a flower

in bloom

beauty in the making

for a short while

not everlasting

but never ending

the petals may fold

but the seed will drop

and a new life begin

perpetual perfection

such is the design

of life

© 2014, J.H.

Who You Are

 

crystal blue skies

burning down

the

imperative

gathering

unique

perspectives

a complex

consciousness

challenges

rationality

and sanity

as always

you can’t change

who you are

© 2014, J.H.

A Poem for Lisa

Image

A dear friend of mine lost her Daddy today after a long illness. She is heartbroken. I didn’t quite know what to say, so I wrote it in a poem. I hope it helps her.

Original Self

 

release

my pain

the

damage

done

dream

a new

original

self

flowing

from

the

center

a

single strand

attached

to

promise

© 2014, J.H.

Fires of the Heart

 

transparent

harness

a fine

energy

of

elasticity

holds

down

the

fires

of

the

heart

© 2014. J.H.

Unsound

 

suspended

as a

guillotine

patented

and

balanced

quality precision

be easy

sleep now

for a

time

tomorrow

is a

better

day

 

© 2014, J.H.