Off Topic; if you will permit me a moment

Fragile. A simple word that we use to describe babies, glass, emotions, and myriad other things. Last night I was reminded the most fragile thing of all is life. Teenagers are a rough sort. We view them as impulsive and reckless. We see them as brilliant and stupid at the same time. We see them as the traditional paradox of, "can't live with them, can't live without them!" Believe me there is no truer statement than that. I taught middle school kids for 11 years and the one word to describe that time is frustrating. It's frustrating to not know how they will turn out. To not know which ones will end up as Rhodes Scholars or teen moms. It's frustrating to know it will be years before they truly find themselves. Last night, I saw how frustrating and fragile come together to create sorrow. David was a kid with an easy smile and a quick wit. Always willing to engage in banter, thought provoking discussion, or a prank to get a quick laugh. He frustrated me because he used his smile to mask hurt and frustration. That same desire to laugh easily hid his deeper emotions much of the time. Often his release of those frustrations came on the ball field or basketball court. Last night frustrating and fragile came together. Sorrow and sadness visits in its wake. A family ripped to shreds. A town in shock. Friends hollowed out. Never say enough. Never quit. Reach out. Someone cares. I know my town did. I know I did. Goodbye David

The Tide Stumbles In

The sky laughs at my misfortune
The venomous yowls breach my soul
The stars instinctively know they have won
The moon separates from the sun

Footprints vanish as the tide stumbles in
The seagulls flicker and dance on the bay
Life is ever so easily undone
The moon separates from the sun

Envelopes of light peer off the moon
The sea mechanically lathers and fades
Freedom was never so easily won
The moon separates from the sun

The fish and the flora never knew me by name
Whirls of the clouds temper and flail
The threshold is simply and perfectly done
The moon separates from the sun

The brilliance and the light
The pain and the pride
Destiny calls us one by one
The moon separates from the sun

Ekphrastic Poem

September's writing assignment is submit a poem to Rattle magazine. Rattle is a quarterly literary magazine that publishes poetry. They have monthly Ekphrastic poetry challenges as well, which is what I am encouraging all of us to partake in! An Ekphrastic poem is art-inspired poetry. The artwork I have posted here is the art in which to draw your inspiration from for your poem.

After you submit your poem to Rattle Mag, post it here too so we all can read it! Have fun!

The submission on rattle.com must be made by September 30th. Details are within the link below:

http://www.rattle.com/poetry/extras/ekphrasis/

A Hearty Welcome

Sending a hearty welcome to our newest member Joshua Winrotte! We're so excited to have you join us here in our 'community'!

Snibbets the Cat

The air was heavy and dark, the smell of cat food filled the basement. “Where's your cat Diane?”, Teddy yelled up the stairs, where Diane was prepping dinner. Diane walked over to the basement doorway, her silhouette, lit up from behind from the bright kitchen lights stated confidently, “Snibbets will come when you pour the food into the bowl. He's probably in the laundry pile somewhere.” She motioned toward four large bags of cat food, half folded over at the top. “Try that one with the yellow label.”

Teddy grabbed the yellow bag, unrolling the top and looked toward the east wall of the basement....his eyes scanned what looked to be the wreckage of a long forgotten flannel war. He wondered when Diane was going to fold and press the laundry, and more so contemplated her burning the clothes in a giant bonfire in her yard. He loved the relief of a clean home, and Diane's basement was long overdue for a deep and thorough purge. He poured the chunky dry cat food into a red plastic bowl on the floor.

Still no sign of the cat. This seemed unusual to Teddy and he wondered if the cat was ill.

“Diane, should I just leave the food in the bowl and come upstairs? Snibbets isn't coming.” Diane suggested coming upstairs and joining her in the kitchen.

Suddenly Teddy remembered he had buried a black Twizzler in his jeans pocket, which Diane had offered to him on the car ride to her house earlier that evening. He was puzzled as to why he had accepted it from her, as he hated black licorice. As he pulled the sticky Twizzler from his pocket, he could hear something clinking above his head. He looked up to the large metal pipe above him, and noticed Snibbets looking down at him with eyes aglow - vivid with reflection as he crept along with the calculated moves of a panther, the metal tag around his neck dragging along the pipe. Snibbets then let out a horrific cry and lost balance, falling haphazardly onto Teddy's shoulders and digging his claws in deep. Teddy lifted the Twizzler to Snibbets mouth hurriedly and the cat cried out again as if his entire life depended on consuming the twisted licorice.

The claws lifted out of Teddy's skin as Snibbets dove to the floor with the candy hanging from his mouth. He shot Teddy a look of utter disgust and jumped up the staircase in a frenzy.

“Wow, ouch!” Teddy exclaimed out loud. He climbed the stairs and entered Diane's kitchen. “Your cat... your cat. Has he lost his mind?” Teddy rubbed his shoulders delicately as to ease the sharp pain. “He must love licorice!”

Diane broke out in a big smile, “Oh Snibbets loves licorice!” She laughed and inquired about the event, “What happened down there?”

Teddy explained, “He was on the pipe above me and I caught him glaring at a Twizzler I was holding. I thought he was going to jump to the floor so I would give him a piece … I had no idea he would fall for it!”

The Detective

I know this is a day late, but I felt like I needed to share the Idiom that sticks with me. As he entered the killer’s lair, he was struck by the absurdity of life. Detective Harlow had been at over 400 crime scenes in his life and this was a first. The gristly reminders of the horrors perpetrated by the killer were on every table. Knives, saws, and scalpels littered every surface. As the detective walked to each corner of the room he was greeted by the killer’s handiwork. Fur was stuck to every surface and streaks of tissue reached to the walls at eye level. Harlow turned when one of the crime scene techs called his name. As he approached the man, Harlow could see that he was holding what looked like a take-out menu. He asked what the tech was holding, but the man only shook his head and handed the booklet to Harlow. As he turned the flyer over and looked upon the cover he knew he had found his feline exterminator. The cover simply said,” Joe’s Taxidermy: There’s More Than One Way to Skin a Cat.”

Brownie Empire

Mike was an aspiring chef, or at least in his mind he was. His passion was baking, so in reality, he was more of an inspiring baker, but he was too naïve to know the difference. Even in his naiveté, he was an excellent baker; he always seemed to have just the right touch with no matter what he made. Everything that came out of his oven was the essence of perfection, or at least in his mind it was.

Armed with his grandmother’s old recipe cards, he honed his craft by donating his delicacies to bake sales, taking desserts to potlucks and just eating a lot of them himself; for quality control, of course. Over time, he noticed the demand for his German’s chocolate brownies outweighed requests for any other item he made. And why wouldn’t it be? These brownies were rich, dense, chocolaty, sweet and chewy, with just the right amount of crunch around the edges. Not to mention the icing. Oh, the icing. Made with semi-sweet chocolate to cut the sweetness of the German’s chocolate, the icing was gooey, fudgy, and oh so delightful.

Those brownies were the first things gone at every bake sale, every potluck, and Mike could sit down and eat a whole pan while they were still warm, with or without icing (a daunting feat that is not recommended). With the undeniable success of these brownies, Mike had an idea,

“I should be making money off of these things!”

He became a man on a mission. Having no experience working in a bakery, he figured he should start small. Work the farmer’s market scene, maybe upgrade to a food truck from there, and then finally have his own store front. Mike was dreaming big, and he was letting his imagination run wild with possibilities.

“I could build an empire with these brownies!” he thought.

Then, Mike took the hardest step of all; the first one. He contacted the local farmer’s market and reserved booth space. He was in. He bought a pop-up canopy, a 6-foot table and spent the whole day Friday furiously baking his German’s chocolate brownies. He meticulously packaged each brownie, and arrived bright and early Saturday morning to set up his table.

It was a beautiful morning. The birds were singing, a gentle breeze filled the air, and there was not a cloud in the sky. The market was bustling with shoppers, and Mike stood confidently at his table, ready to sell every last brownie he so lovingly made. Person after person walked by, but Mike had no takers. Every once in a while, children pointed at Mike’s booth begging for chocolate as their mothers dragged them away by the arm.

Mike had an idea.  Since most of these people had never even tried his brownies, he set out some bite sized samples and waited for the crowd to flock in. He got many takers for his samples, and he finally managed to sell one to a kid who outlasted his parents with uncanny persistence.   However, most people just took the sample, smiled, nodded, and walked away. Mike was dejected. The farmer’s market was almost over. He set out a few more samples and then slumped into his chair.

A local baker passed by Mike’s tent and swiped a sample.  She was curious about the new kid on the block. Upon tasting it, her eyes lit up a bit. She knew these brownies were something special, she knew they were almost perfect. She walked over to a nearby booth that sold gourmet salts and purchased a small bag of fleur de sel. She walked back over to Mike’s booth, picked up another brownie sample, and dusted it ever so gently with the fleur de sel. Then she got Mike’s attention, held the brownie out to him and said,

“Take it…with a grain of salt.”

Mike just looked at her. He reluctantly took the sample of his own brownie and took a bite. His eyes opened wide in disbelief and he stood straight up. The brownies had a much fuller chocolate flavor that danced and sparkled on his taste buds. The chocolate taste just popped so wonderfully, and he couldn’t believe it. All this extra burst of flavor from a simple grain of salt.  This was a definitive “aha!” moment for Mike, and he couldn't believe the difference it made in his brownies. He just looked at the baker and smiled. Then she said to him,

“Now that’s a good brownie. It’ll be nice to have a little competition around here. Good luck.”

Then she walked away. Mike’s confidence was restored and he furiously unpackaged, salted, and repacked his brownies. He sold a few more brownies before the market closed, and his samples began receiving rave reviews from the shoppers. Mike ended up giving most of his product away that day, but he had new hope. His brownie empire was still on the horizon, all because of one friendly baker and the bite taken with a grain of salt.

Idiom Laugh

How come both dogs and trees have bark? They must be related. If you get to the root of that one, go out a limb and let me know. 
I didn't write this, but found it resonates with our topic this month. I will post a real assignment soon!!

Literal Idioms

We're back to the drawing board with a new topic for August.  Let's not beat around the bush, it's time to let the cat out of the bag.  I would like you to write a story of an idiom or idioms literally happening.  So, there you have it, the ball is in your court. 

I'm not saying this topic is the best thing since sliced bread, and I don't expect you to start writing at the drop of a hat, but I think this could be fun.  You may not think I'm not playing with a full deck, but there is a method to my madness.  Will this be a piece of cake?  Your guess is as good as mine.

id·i·om

ˈidēəm/

noun

noun: idiom; plural noun: idioms

1. a group of words established by usage as having a meaning not deducible from those of the individual words (e.g., rain cats and dogs, see the light ).

 

Not much has changed since I was last here, but there is a sense of calm and peace in spite of the hullabaloo.  The new memorial is a beauty, I'm sure you would like it.  All in all, not a bad trip on the governments dime, now if I could only ditch this attendant.  Seventy-five years and I can still picture it like yesterday.  The field. Oh, the field.  I kept my pro There are only about twenty-five of us here and they still couldn't give us enough whiskey.  All is well, traveling home tomorrow.

--

O.G.