Memories (Flash Fiction)

Sitting in the driveway, under the old Maples, a long-forgotten song played on the car radio. It took him right back to that moment in time when he was sixteen. “Peggy Sue, Peggy Sue, with a love so rare and true…” floated from the speakers. Peggy Sue was one of those memories he had pushed back into the closet of his mind.
Under the maples, in the dark of the evening, he hesitantly gave her a kiss. It was the first for both of them. It all happened so quickly; and then she was off, back around the house.
Hormones raged, as they sat holding hands on the swing, under the naked bulb of the front porch light. Pandora’s box had been opened, never to be closed again.
Though time and circumstances changed their course. “These memories were left here with the trees.”

*********************

Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Tonight at d’Verse we are writing Flash Fiction, which must include a line of a poem in our story. Stories are limited to only 144 words.

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

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Harvest Moon

Harvest moon rises

 On Friday the Thirteenth eve

Once in our lifetime

No need for superstition

Snow falls on the peaks

*

Painting B&W edit: Dwight L. Roth

Frank Tassone asked us to write a Haikai poem about the Harvest Moon. This one is very unique in that it comes on Friday the Thirteenth. It has not done that since the 1800s. We missed it here due to the much needed rain that came through last evening.

Join us at: https://frankjtassone.com/2019/09/14/haikai-challenge-104-9-14-19-harvest-moon-meigetsu-haiku-senryu-haibun-tanka-haiga-renga/

 

Dollar Cone

Down the country road from where I live is a little Ice Cream Shop called the Dollar Cone.  Julie and her family have been serving up ice cream and milk shakes for many years. Not too many places sell you a cone for a dollar. I believe, due to inflation, she is going to raise the price to a dollar and a half next year. All the little kids like the homemade cookies and free sprinkles. As the summer season ends, the colorful Dollar Cone truck will have to be put to rest till next year. I guess I better hurry over and get one more fix before she closes.

Ice Cream truck sits still

Summer heat // ice cream tastes great

We love this cool treat

*

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Hogan’s Brown Cow

Hogans Brown Cow  –   Beverly Dyer

13 x 13 in

Tom Hogan’s brown cow

looks over the fence // wondering

with skeptical eyes

whether I am friend or foe;

Slowly chewing on green grass

Ruminating thoughts

randomly run through my head;

Big brown eyes stay fixed

determined to stare me down;

I turn // slowly walk away

Tom Hogan’s brown cow

wonders off to chew her cud;

Summer grass // rich cream.

Poetry flows from my head;

Barbed wire goes on for ever

Today at d’Verse Mish introduced us to artist Beverly Dryer.  She asked us to choose one of her watercolor paintings and write a poem inspired by the painting.  I chose Hogans Brown Cow. The eyes captured my imagination.  Hope you enjoy it. Her painting is used with her permission.

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

Mare Tranquillitatis

Sea of Tranquility //moon destination
Ranger crashed //Surveyor landed
Making way for an eagle’s landing
During my years of innocence back in1969.
Neil Armstrong left his mark
in that tranquil surface dust;
Realtor is now selling
acreages on the moon!
Celebs are buying!!
Duh!!

Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Lillian at d’Verse asked us to write a Quadrille of exactly 44 words using the word Tranquility. I had to think of the area of the moon that NASA chose for its Lunar landing.  According to Wikapedia, they crashed Ranger in the surface while sending photos back for them to study. Later Surveyor made a soft landing, sending back over 19,000 photos. When the first Astronauts landed on the moon, it was in the sea of tranquility. It got its name from the Latin: Mare Tranquillitatis

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

Pipes

High aloft, in the Strasbourg Cathedral in France, the organ pipes glow in the dimly lit sanctuary. They are decorated in gold with the touch of a master craftsman. As beautiful as they look up there on the wall, no sounds will be heard until someone below sits down at the organ and begins sending streams of air through them. Sometimes we are the organ and at other times we are simply the beautiful pipes!

Ornate set of pipes
Hang silently on the wall
Need breath to be heard

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

What’s Happening…

                   What’s Happening…
As a child, I went to the amusement park
Paid the ticket fee and climbed in for the ride
Through the Fun House of smoke and mirrors;
Frightened and scared as the monsters jumped out
Knowing that all that happens in there is not real.
*
Watching magicians on TV try to fool Penn and Teller,
I know that sleight of hand and trickery are all a part;
Fooling me right before my very eyes // my jaw drops
How in the world did he do that?
…Much like our politicians!
*
Yet we take our ride into the Political Fun House
Trying to convince ourselves that everything is real;
That slight of hand proves they are right;
Trying to see Truth through smoke and mirrors
As Deceit and Trickery put on their scary show
*****
          … Is Not What’s Going On!

*****
Painting: Dwight L. Roth
Tonight, at d’Verse, Amaya asked us to speak out with our poetic voice regarding the way things are going in our world. All the craziness around us keeps being fed back through the smoke and mirrors of the media, each one giving their slant. My view is we should not be surprised. We all know that “what’s happening is not what’s going on!” Yet we always hope it will be better the next ride around!

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

 

 

Stairwell Paintings

I love painting large canvases. I get them from the local Habitat Restore and recycle them into my own creations. The problem is, I don’t have places to hang all of them. A couple of years ago, I ask one of the town officials in Waxhaw if I could hang some of them in an old stirwell. I was able to hang several of them. Everyone who goes up and down gets to enjoy them. Much better than sitting in my garage collecting dust.

Large paintings hanging

Free showing for all to see

on stairwell landings

Paintings by: Dwight L.Roth

Two Falling Stars

Two falling stars in a universe of billions
Sometimes clashing like two knives cutting
Bleeding rightness // then finding we are wrong
Seeking forgiveness //pledging to get along
Entangled in the night like the roots of a tree
Holding on to the foundation that keeps us free
We are two bodies // waves of ebb and flow
In an ocean of night, as days come and go
Age brings with it // fossils // embedded in stone
Looking back with nostalgia as the sun sets all alone
We are pieces of the universe on collision course
When two falling stars embedded with great force
Forever lie together in the dust of the earth

Today at d’Verse we are looking at international poetry. It is easy for poetry intent to get lost in translation.  Lara gave us poems from three different international poets and asked us to pick one that inspired us and write it in our own perspective. I chose, Two Bodies, by the Mexican poet Octavio Paz.  You can read the original version below:

Octavio Paz (1914-1998) – Another Spanish speaker and more recent Nobel prize winner. Born in Mexico, he was a political activist, ambassador and essayist so that much of his poetry reads like prose poems, “written within the perpetual motion and transparencies of the eternal present tense.” 
Two Bodies
Two bodies face to face
are at times two waves
and night is an ocean.

Two bodies face to face
are at times two stones
and night a desert.
Two bodies face to face
are at times two roots
laced into night.
Two bodies face to face
are at times two knives
and night strikes sparks.
Two bodies face to face
are two stars falling
in an empty sky.

****************************************************

Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

Sturgeon Moon

The Full Moon in August is referred to by the Native Americans as the Sturgeon Moon. It is thought that it was due to the large numbers of sturgeon that were available in the northern lakes and rivers at this time of year. Sturgeon are thought to be prehistoric remnants of the ice age. They are bottom feeders that live much longer than most fish. Their boney scale-less bodies and long pointy noses make them look quite different from most fish. Today, Frank Tassone asked us to write a Haikai poem that refers to the Sturgeon Moon. The painting above, of the moon over the mountains and the flowing river, is one I did a few months back. Yesterday, I went back and added more details and color to the original. It is a recycled painting from the Habitat Restore.

Sturgeon Moon rises

Like a boney reflection

Ancient survivor

This is my little corner of the garage where I do my painting!

Join us at:   https://frankjtassone.com/2019/08/10/haikai-challenge-99-8-10-19-sturgeon-moon-haiku-senryu-haibun-tanka-haiga-renga/