A WINTER POEM

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by the talented poet and teacher, Mary Lee Hahn HERE. Thank you for hosting and I look forward to the poetry you share with us this week!

WINTERY WOODS IN CENTRAL NEW YORK

Those who live where it snows know what it’s like to open the front door after a snow storm and see, hear, and smell winter. Even in the midst of climate change, those days still happen and was on display this week:

IN THE JANUARY WOODS


All around, the snow  
painted the frozen 
branches white
this breezeless morning. 

No snow clumps 
fell with a thud from trees--
no snow Hieroglyphics
on the ground.

I saw no birds.
heard only silence,
and so I pretended
(because it seemed so)
that time had somehow stopped.

               Then soon, the drip-drop 
               of snow melt
               echoed here and there,
              .
               A squirrel flashed by,
               
               A doe and her spotted fawn
               startled and fled, 

               as nature spoke,
               inching it's way again
               towards spring. 
               
 
© Janice Scully 2024

POST CARD EXCHANGE

I received three New Years post cards this week thanks to Jone McCullough’s post card exchange. Thank you so much, Jone, for organizing this.

The first poem came special air delivery straight from Honolulu from Joyce P. Uglow, which I appreciated because her words were hopeful.

TRACKS AND HOPEFUL MOMENTS

The importance of tracks
in the squint of a new day
hopeful moments
moments of wonder
wondering why
words far apart
in the squint of a new day.

© Joyce Uglow 2024

The next poem came from Carol Labuzzetta with a photo of a castle.

RHINE DRAGON FANTASY

Years come and years go
With each New Year comes
More stories of old . . . 
Arrows, maidens, and drums.

Do you remember this time
Of castles and plunder?
Fighting on a riverbank till
The town is asunder.

Memories are stirred when
My eyes see the stone turret
Of the castle on the hill.
Watch out! Don't be lured by it. 

Knights and kings lived here,
So long ago,
Perhaps, Perhaps,
With a dragon in tow. 

© Carol Labuzzetta, 2024

The next postcard was a poem by Tabatha Yeatts accompanied by a painting of a dragon by “Elena.” 

As the new year delivers the unknown to hand,
Fortify yourself as well as you can:

Repair your armor, pack a shield,
Stow words and memories that heal,

Keep compassion on tap and pour a deep flagon--
We're at the edge of the map, and here be the dragons. 

© Tabatha Yeatts 2024

We are not the first, it seems from reading Tabatha’s poem, to fight dragons. Happy Year of the Dragon!

How to Write a Peace Poem?

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Susan at Chicken Spaghetti Here. Thank you, Susan, for hosting!

Several things.

First of all, I received the proof pages of my poems from the diligent Carol Labuzzetta. She is composing an anthology of ekphrastic nature poems. I sent three photos and poem and was thrilled to see them dressed up and on the page! She improved on the clarity of my three photos and made my poems look good. I am so grateful.

I also received New Years postcards from Marcie and Linda M. this week. Marcie sent an amazing winter photo accompanied by a haiku. The postcard shines brighter than my photo of it. I love the idea of these red berries as frosted ornaments. 

    Overnight cold
  leafless bushes become
    frosted ornaments

Marcie Flinchum Atkins 2023

Linda sent this collage postcard with a wonky, sweet hand-fashioned paper clip attached, accompanied by a poem about peace:

Peace Four Ways 2024
by Linda Mitchell

How to write a peace poem
when our world knows only war?
Millions wander with no home
How to wrote a peace poem? 
as bomb-dropping drones
pollute our skies and more?
How to write a peace poem?
when our world knows only war? 

        Peace
     quiet covers
   this warring world
       we fight 
      ourselves

this peace at twilight
this refuge from day's worries
a breath for this world

                            In 2024, let
           us remake the world for peace
           Let us take a moment to begin
              again the notion that with
 a new year there's no war for you or me.

Since I received Linda’s poem, I watched the New Hampshire primary where the victor insulted his female opponent’s dress. Not fancy enough. He insulted her as a creepy predator would. I may not be a Republican, but she deserves respect and admiration for her talent and courage to run for president.

I saw on TV three young college women, voting for the first time in New Hampshire, declared they will vote against her and for a sexual predator. Really?

Here’s a response to Linda’s poem. 

HOW DO I WRITE A PEACE POEM?
(after a poem by Linda Mitchell)

when I live in a country
where voters would throw away freedom
for a strong man?

How do I write a peace poem
when America is lying on its side,
bleeding like an injured bear
and needs to stand strong
because the forest is on fire?

How do I write a peace poem
to inspire the world
to value and love
a whole future's-worth
of children? 

© Janice Scully 2024 (draft)

All I know is that I want my children and grandchildren to live in a free society like I did, where they can read what they want, say what they want and live in safety.

It’s a good time to remember George Washington. Several years ago I wrote a series of “Presidential Haiku and Tanka” about each American President. It still sits on my computer. 

GEORGE WASHINGTON

Indispensable! 
He patched together ragged,
hungry men, and won!
This clever man was a star. 
Crown and throne? Thank you, but no.

© Janice Scully 2022

Have a great weekend! I want to thank those who recommended the novel “Bright and Remarkable Creatures” by Shelby Van Pelt.” I listened to it on audiobooks and loved the story. It’s really heart warming!

THE SOUL OF AN OCTOPUS by Sy Montgomery

Welcome to Poetry Friday, today hosted by poet and artist Robyn Hood Black HERE. Thank you for hosting, Robyn!

First I would like to show off an empowering post card and poem that I received from Mary Lee Hahn today with a poem. (Jone McCullough had arranged this year a 2024 swap of New Year’s postcards. Thanks, Jone! )

On the card is a message we all need to be reminded of.

Summon up bravery . . . 
dismantle hesitation . . . 
BEGIN! 
        (you've got this) 

Mary Lee Hahn 2024

Thank you, Mary Lee!

____________

A book I’d like to share is one I received for Christmas. THE SOUL OF AN OCTOPUS, is a 2015 national book award finalist, by naturalist Sy Montgomery.:

I admit I have not found the octopus a creature that inspired in me affection. I found them frightening. As fear often arrises from lack of knowledge, the way to dispel fears about an animal, such as the octopus, is to learn more. (The first thing I learned was “octopi” as the plural for octopus is incorrect. It is “octopuses”)

Sy Montgomery got to know these creatures intimately. At the New England Aquarium in Boston, her first meeting involved touching one named Athena, offering her arm for Athena to explore and “taste” with their suckers. Sounded questionable at first but I read on. I’m sure Sy Montgomery had to “summon up bravery” to get up close and personal with this interesting and unusual living thing.

I knew that octopuses were smart, but I didn’t know how smart. They remember humans they meet and learn to trust. They are not violent unless threatened or subduing a fish or clam for dinner. The author truly fell in love with the octopuses she got to know at the aquarium and her affection I felt throughout the book. The attachment the author, and all the staff at the aquarium developed with Athena and others felt was no less than love.

This week I watched the documentary on Netflix, MY OCTOPUS TEACHER, which turned out to be another wonderful love story between a diver and an octopus he visited everyday for almost a year. Well, I might as well say that after reading this book and watching the documentary, I fell in love, too. Exaggerating a little, I wrote this:

MY LOVE LIVES IN AN AQUARIUM

No need to protest,
please do not fuss,
I'd like to marry
my sweet octopus.

Her skin is a light show
she flashes at whim
reds, browns and stripes
from head to her limbs.

She’s smooth when I pet her,
not monstrous or hairy.
Cephalopod mollusks
aren’t actually scary.

Afraid she will ink you?
Devour your finger?
If you cannot be gentle
be gone! Do not linger!

Hundreds of suction cups
trail up her arms.
All the better to taste you—
it’s one of her charms. 

I’d chase my love anywhere
like I did once before
when she crawled from her tank
and slid under the door. 

Oh, what is better I say 
than a hug with eight arms?
to hold and protect you
from undersea harm. 

No need to protest
no need to fuss;
I think I will marry
my sweet octopus. 

© Janice Scully 2024

When I was a child, I declared at one night the dinner table, “I love peas!” My father asked me, “Would you marry them?” At the time I found this hilarious and what came to mind writing this poem. Of course, you marry what or who you love.

Here is a public domain photo of an octopus showing off its ability to blend in. With no shell to protect it, the octopus depends on color change, shape shifting, and squeezing into small spaces among other talents, to protect itself.

Thank you Robyn for hosting. Have a great weekend!

More Treasures, Holiday Swap 2023

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Tracey Kiff Judson Here. Thank you Tracey! I hope, Tracey, that you are feeling well after your bout with the Green Goblin, Covid.

What is Poetry Friday? Find out here.

This week a lovely package arrived from my Swap Partner Carol Varsalona. She very cleverly wrapped it in photos about Syracuse, where she used to live, years ago. I was excited to receive it and I opened it gently to save the wrapping.

Inside were two poems, that I transcribed below , as well as a small candle and a Holiday Card.

One poem my Carol celebrated Christmas.

Oh Christmas,
You're the most wonderful
Time of the year.
A season of wonder and hope
Joyfully, we adorn thee,
Even with holiday 
hustle and bustle,
You bring warm cuddles.
Surround us with your guiding light,
So we might honor your holy night. 

CVarsalona 2023

Another poem celebrated Syracuse winter snow, which she had experienced first hand, showcasing the snow. 

SYRACUSE WINTER
by Carol Varsalona 2023

In a dreamy landscape of powdered sugar,
Show dances before dropping and settling.
Each design enhances Earth's beauty
Until blizzard-like winds swoop across like eagle 
wings.

Snow dances before dropping and settling.
Syracuse snow knows no boundaries
Until blizzard-like winds swoop across like eagle 
wings
Touches each home and pathway.

Syracuse snow knows no boundaries,
Free-floating to the rhythm of the wind
Touching each home and pathway,
As choreographed by winter. 

Free-floating to the rhythm of the wind,
Snow playfully creates her own designs
As choreographed by Winter
In a dreamy landscape of powered sugar.

But it’s been a while since Carol lived in Syracuse. Her poem highlights the beauty of snow. Snow is beautiful and this week we got a foot. But the climate has changed slowly. So I wrote this as a response, with a little sadness, because it is comforting for seasons to be relatively predictable. 

CLIMATE CHANGE IN SYRACUSE JANUARY 2024

Snow used to come early
color everything white
now winter is mild.
Not frigid. Not wild.

Snow thick and fast,
a cold sparking treat
I admire less often
from my window seat.

Mild storms after New Years,
is lately the trend,
probably less in the future
no sign change will end. 

© Janice Scully 2024

This week I listened to Liz Cheney’s book OATH OF HONOR. It’s really fascinating and worth the time.

Have a great week! Thank you, Tracey, for hosting.

New Orleans and a Book by Ernest Gaines

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Haiku aficionado and artist, Marcie Flinchum Atkins Here. Last week she shared a video showcasing her fabulous haiku and photos. Thank you, Marcie, for hosting.

Today, I’ll share a few sights from New Orleans. I was there a month ago for a wedding but had plenty of time to acquaint myself with the French Quarter with all its non-stop music, art, and hospitality. (Sorry the photos are not my best.)

MERCHANTS IN THE FRENCH QUARTER

Artists show their work
in the shade of live oak trees
tourists stop, some buy.

© Janice Scully 2024

I heard wonderful music, especially Jazz everywhere. Indoors and outdoors. 

IN THE FRENCH QUARTER

Clarinets and drums,
jambalaya and jamming--
an all day party. 
  

© Janice Scully 2024

I always look for a bookstore.

I like to buy at least one book when I travel and found this short novel by Ernest J. Gaines, A LONG DAY IN NOVEMBER.

Gaines is the author of A LESSON BEFORE DYING that I read years ago. I have never read another book by him.

A LONG DAY IN NOVEMBER is a tender book narrated by six year old Sonny, who during the 1940’s on a southern plantation where his parents chop sugarcane, finds himself in the middle of his impoverished parents separating. He is a charming, engaging character, as are his parents, and the story of his parents struggles, and how their fiery argument is resolved made for fascinating read, a quintessentially southern story. I loved the book! I recommend it, and I’m ready for another book by Earnest Gaines.

Happy New Year to everyone!

Elfchen poems

Welcome to Poetry Friday on this last Friday of the year. Thank you Michelle Kogan for hosting! Check in with her Here.

I was away last week visiting family. I hope everyone had a joyful holiday. Since our return, my husband feels under the weather. He’s OK, and so far is so far Covid negative but who knows? I’ve noticed that friends here and there are getting covid, though no one is very sick.

Let’s move on to elfchen poems.

This week I will contribute a few. The form is described Here. It’s a short five line poem and the directions made me think:

First line one word: A thought, object, a color, smell or the like.

Second line two words: What does the word from the first line do?

Third line three words: Where or how is the word from line one?

Fourth line four words: What do you mean?

Fifth line one word: What results? What is the conclusion?

I saw the most brilliant blue in the stained glass at the Sagrada Familia, a cathedral in Barcelona last year.

MEDITATION

blue
deep calm
colors evening skies
children will sleep tonight
peace

© Janice Scully (draft) 2023

Pumpkin pie with cinnamon.

PUMPKIN PIE

Cinnamon.
Holiday memory.
Ancient amygdala triggered.
Take a deep breath.
Delight.

© Janice Scully (draft) 2023

This lilac tree looks down for the count. 

DREAMING OF SPRING

Lilac,
playing dead.
Gray,cold December.
Fragrant purple flowers gone.
Deceiving. 

© Janice Scully (draft) 2023

I have one last one I wrote after listening to a radio story here on the show 1-A, about laboratory grown, cultivated, chicken. It is worth a listen. Cultivated meat is being tested in two restaurants, one in San Francisco and in Washington D.C. 

Chicken.
Lab grown.
No slaughter required.
Reportedly tastes the same.
Try?

©Janice Scully 2023

Since food production requiring slaughterhouses and the killing of animals contributes to 20% of green house emissions, it would be significant in the fight against global warming. I’d definitely try if it is ever available.

Well, as for the elfchen, I look forward to reading more. I found that most of my lines were end-stopped. I wasn’t sure to punctuate or not.

Happy New Year!

Poetry Friday is HERE: Christmas Haiku and Slippers.

Welcome everyone to Poetry Friday! Today I have the honor of being the host. I hope all of you and your loved ones are finding joy in this holiday season.

What is Poetry Friday? It is explained Here.

Christmas is moving along at my house. Our tree is decorated. 

this young pine's branches
firmly grip fragile treasures--
as if it grew them.

©Janice Scully 2023

I made stollen with my friend, Leah, something we do every year together. 

fresh Christmas stollen,
obviously sprung from snow,
not a hot oven.

© Janice Scully

But, in spite of a tree and baking, this doesn’t feel like an ordinary Christmas now that 2024 is around the corner. I feel unsettled, another word for free floating anxiety.

I wrote another poem, one that does not concern Christmas, but instead, Democracy. 

TAKING DEMOCRACY FOR GRANTED

like slippers
so cleverly made 
that you can’t recall
having cold feet at all, 
 
until one day you jump out
of bed, put on your old slippers
and for the first time 
your feet feel 
the ice-cold kitchen floor!

You stare into the early silence,
vexed with regret  
because you never fixed 
that insidious hole,
           
and now
must replace 
the sole. 

© Janice Scully ©2023 (draft)

Have a happy holiday season! Add your blog to the list below. I look forward to reading them.

I thought I’d try writing an “Elfchen” poem or two this week. On Dec 29, the Poetry Sisters are sharing their “Elfchen” poems and invited the Poetry Friday community to give the form a try. See Tanita’s post Here. I found a description of the Elfchen from Here. It is a short poem, which of course doesn’t mean easy. I hope I’ll have one to share in two weeks.

Two Silly Poems ala Valerie Worth

Happy Poetry Friday, this week hosted by poet Patricia Franz Here. Thank you, Patricia for hosting. I look forward to seeing what you have for us this week!

I enjoyed reading all the poems recently written in the style of Valerie Worth and shared on Poetry Friday. Michelle Kogan wrote two lovely ones Here and on that post are the links to the other Poetry Sisters and their poems in the Valerie Worth style.

I took out my copy of ALL THE SMALL POEMS AND FOURTEEN MORE by Valerie Worth. I noticed that, although it seems she has a poem for absolutely everything, she doesn’t, of course, who could? There is so much to write about.

So here are two more poems, ala Valerie Worth. The subjects came to mind as I have been in my basement sewing. Keep in mind they are first drafts. 

NEEDLE

Slim
Sharp
Sliver of steel.

It weaves
straight in 
and out 
of pieces of fabric,

requiring a machine
or fingers
to direct it

because one eye
is not enough.  

© Janice Scully 2023 (draft)
THREAD

You're rarely seen,

silent, a humble servant
when we're out and about

at school, at play 
your work is ignored--

you keep our clothes on us
instead of the floor. 

© Janice Scully (draft)

I’m making a table runner for my son and his wife. Do I like the combination of colors? I think so but things look very different when they are unfinished, so I have my fingers crossed. I think it will be colorful and pretty on their table.

I have found the holiday season a welcome diversion from the news that continues to make me sad. I went to see the Syracuse Stage production of A CHRISTMAS CAROL last night and as it always does, reminded me what is important, that is, kindness to others.

So on that note, Happy Holidays! Have a great weekend. Thank you Patricia for hosting!

The Almost Beginning

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Anastasia (I love that name!) at Small Poems. Thank you for hosting! Anastasia looks back on her acceptance letter of her work and shares a poem.

I’m thinking about holiday gifts and I’m trying to make some of them. But as most sewers, crafts people, cooks, knitters, painters and all other artists know, disappointment can often tag along on one’s creative endeavors. Today, after not embroidering for a long time, I decided to try to embroider a flower. I was thinking of embellishing a bookmark. I found a picture of an embroidered flower that I thought was pretty and used it as a guide but thought mostly I’d wing it.

To me, the effort was just OK. A little sorry. Not horrible, but not exactly the flower or plant I was inspired by. After two hours of work, I felt like I’d wasted most of my morning. But isn’t that the way it goes?

I will try embroidery again soon, but since it’s Thursday and time for Poetry Friday, perhaps a poem about my experience might redeem my lost time, though, of course it just might add to it.

The fact is, and we all know it, especially you teachers out there, the sense of failure and disappointment is part of the learning and creative process. We all feel it and unless we accept it, we will never succeed at anything.

Below is my poem, another draft, another beginning. 

THE ALMOST BEGINNING

Did you ever
try something
and fail?

Like write a poem?
Bake a cake?
Draw a flower?

And felt
the words weren’t right
The cake didn’t rise enough
and you created a spider
instead of a flower?

             Congratulations! 

You have arrived at
the Almost Beginning 
         of whatever you attempted.

That dull disappointment
in your stomach?
It will linger only if
you give up.

So next, 
think about 
what was wrong

        with the words
        with the ingredients or oven
        with your crooked stitches,

and try again,
certain you can get there,
because maybe  
      days ago
      years ago 
you have been here, 
at the Almost Beginning, before.  
 

© Janice Scully 2023

Enjoy the holiday season!

Happy Thanksgiving and Ravens . . . Again.

Welcome to Poetry Friday! Happy Thanksgiving. This week we are hosted by Ruth at:

http://thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com

Thank you Ruth for hosting! I have so enjoyed her poems and her wide knowledge about birds that is found on her blog.

I’ve had a quiet holiday with just my husband, Bart and our son, Matt. Maybe that’s why I have so many leftovers!

Last week I bought a book with a title I couldn’t resist:

I posted two weeks ago about Ravens and Halloween. But I am posting again about ravens because there is more to say after reading more about these very old, very smart birds.

The first of the ten birds in Moss’s book that “changed the world” is the Raven, the largest member of the crow family, with it’s large “pick-ax” bill, iridescent black feathers and remarkable call. This bird has at times helped and then hindered human efforts to survive. They’ve been loved and hated through the centuries.

Moss tells us:

For human and animal hunters, their ability to fly made them assets to survival.

“Only the raven can reconnoitre a large area of ground, locate potential prey and then return to guide the hunters towards the target.” 

SYMBOSIS

Wolves.
Ravens.
Early man—
hunting buddies
for thousands of years.
Ravens flew to spot prey.
Swift wolves rushed off to the scene,
heeding raven intelligence,
as did humans: a happy threesome. 

© Janice Scully 2023

The raven’s fortunes, good and bad, have been in no small part determined by humans. To ancient Norsemen, they were seen as helpers to the Norse God Odin. But after hunting and gathering was left behind, ravens became pests to farmers and herdsmen, eating crops and attacking animals. Humans nearly exterminated them.

Today, ravens flourish. They are almost everywhere, clever enough to survive in diverse habitats. 

THE FORTUNES OF THE RAVEN

Ancient Norsemen celebrated 
black feathered, bold beaked ravens
that served as the thoughts and memories 
of their one-eyed god, Odin.

                           But when humans discovered farming, 
                           they nearly rid the world of these pests
                           gobbling their grain.

In plague times, Ravens helped
clear the streets of the dead.
The more the merrier.
A boon to public health.

                          but later herders battled ravens
                          that threatened new born animals,
		          and livelihoods.
                         
Today, birdwatchers admire their call 
and clever sky antics.
Numbers have exploded!

                          Humans change. 
                          Ravens hope for the best.

© Janice Scully 2023

I haven’t finished the book yet but look forward to learning about the extinct dodo, pigeons, the bald eagle, penguins and more. I appreciate lately more than ever my love of reading and the peace it brings me as I curl up with a good book.

Have a great weekend!