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The Coffin Club
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Monthly Archives: November 2017
The Stories Held by Things
These bracelets, which I have on today, brought to mind this poem from two years ago that deals with (or at the very least, makes use of) today’s prompt word of “dubious.” I lived and traveled for many years abroad..a number of those years spent in Africa or traveling through Indonesia and this poem always reminds me of the thousands of artisans I met during those years, not knowing that later I would become an artisan myself.
The Stories Held by Things
Niata and Solchi sit in the shade of a baobob,
coils of bright plastic between them,
bright green, pink, white, black, green.
Blue. Yellow.
They do not touch the yellow.
They are afraid of it, perhaps,
or dubious. Yellow is the color of the water
that carried their sister away
as she called out to them,
helpless on the bank––
the color
of the skin of their brother
who was surrendered to the water
to be carried away as well.
Yellow is not in their
creative vocabulary
as they wind, wind the plastic cord
into bracelets, forming designs
of checkerboards and crosses,
stripes like the stripes in candy canes
given in December by the missionaries.
Now a band of blue, then back to white lines
on black backgrounds.
They fantasize about
who would wear these bracelets.
A penny each, they are given for their efforts.
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Share Your World, Nov. 13, 2017
One of the highlights of my week and always one of the highlights of my trips to Missouri was a visit to Evelyn’s wonderful antiques store. She was redecorating and painting, so the stock was about half of what it usually was, but I still found some finds, including a delicious apple from her bowl put there for the taking. I would have bought this spinning wheel if I’d had a way to get it to Mexico. The little dog greets every visitor for a friendly rub before jumping back up to his perch. I love this place.
(Please click on any photo to enlarge them all.)
Okay, now on to Cee’s questions for the week:
Do you ever sit on a park bench for more than ten minutes? Rarely.
When you lose electricity in a storm, do you light the candles, turn on the flashlight or use your cell phone for light? I live in Mexico, where the electricity goes off frequently and sometimes for hours and even days. I have a handy supply of candles all over the house as well as kerosene lanterns and propane cylinder lamps that always seem to lack either fuel or mantles. In the past year I’ve purchased a few little battery-powered crookneck lamps that come in handy as well. I have a half dozen flashlights that are never in the right place at the right time so I hardly ever use them.
Would you rather be given $10,000 for your own use or $100,000 to give anonymously to strangers? At this point, I can think of some excellent uses for the $100,000–especially for education expenses for children in the village. I would have no problem finding proper recipients for it so I’d definitely make that choice.
What inspired you or what did you appreciate this past week? I loved not necessarily having to do anything (except blogging, of course) for the past week. For the last two days, however, most of our time had been taken up trying to figure out the intricacies of two computers with a lot of problems. Really frustrating. Thanks to three hours spent online via Team Viewer and Skype with a tech expert in Vancouver, we finally got some of the problems solved. An additional two hours spent trying to get social security problems solved via phone and internet led to no solutions at all. All in all, a frustrating day but luckily I feel most of the computer problems are solved. Thanks, Chad! (If anyone needs the name of an excellent and personable tech expert for Macs, I’d be glad to share his number.)
Morning Glories “On the Fence” Flower of the Day, Nov 13, 2017
I Keep Your Promise
I Keep Your Promise
Rain beats a riff on the back window
as I drive away from your familiar
promises, like lyrics of a worn-out song.
“Never again,” is made true this time,
my choice instead of your vow.
It’s only truth I take away with me:
torn buttons, bruises, broken dreams.
The empty baby carriage
you’ll find in the spare room,
one more unused space
in a house too rarely
a home.
I was the house
you entered
but never
spread out in—
the rumpus room
battered with misuse—
a refrigerator
filled with carry-out and cartons
with their “use by” dates all lapsed.
I was the melody
to that false chord
you loved to strike,
proud in your outlaw status—
that anchor that held your music to the page.
I see its strains floating after me,
as though that part of you
knows what it will miss
and even now
is trying to be found.
The prompt word today is riff.
Nose in a Book
I was reading Rugby’s blog who posted the below questions regarding books and reading. She found them via these two blogs: t https://oceanbream.wordpress.com and https://mythsofthemirror.com.
1. Do you have a specific place for reading? In bed, in the bathroom or, while driving, Audible books.
2. Bookmark or random piece of paper? Random piece of paper.
3. Do you eat or drink whilst reading? If I’m hungry or thirsty, yes.
4. Music or TV while reading? No.
5. One book at a time or several? Several.
6. Do you prefer to read at home or elsewhere? At night, at home. During the day, while going from home to elsewhere–an Audible book in my car.
7. Read out loud or silently? Silently
8. Do you read ahead or skip pages? Never.
9. Break the spine or keep it new? Unless borrowed, break it’s back. Easier to read.
10. Do you write in books? Sometimes. Rarely.
11. What books are you reading now? A Natural History of the Senses by Diane Ackerman, Don’t Let Me Go by Catherine Ryan Hyde, My Life So Far by Jane Fonda and Chicken Soup for the Soul, Dreams and the Unexplainable.
12. What is your childhood favorite book? Old Mother West Wind Stories. My dad used to love reading them to us and I loved having him do so. My mother made up her own stories and I loved that, too.
13. What is your all-time favorite book and why do you love it? Ruth Ozeki, A Tale for the Time Being because it is enthralling and totally unique. I also love anything by Jane Austen (Pride and Prejudice my favorite) or Barbara Kingsolver (Pigs in Heaven my favorite) because they are beautifully descriptive and character-driven. I even did a retablo about Kingsolver’s The Lacuna and gave it to her. Her creations have given me so much pleasure that I wanted to create something to give her pleasure as well. I’d do the same for Austen if she were alive.
Trees on the Sabbath
Sabbath Trees: An Autumn Walk in Morehouse, Missouri
(Please click on any photo to enlarge all.)
For Becca’s Sunday Trees.
Black as His Soul
“A black object is black because it’s absorbing all the light; it’s not reflecting any color.”
Black as His Soul
Black as the soul of POTUS, dark as Beelzebub.
As sable as the darkest night, tarred as an axle hub.
It does not serve you well, my dear, to fall in love with black.
It draws your whole light into it and gives you nothing back.
Black will draw and quarter you, stretch you on the rack.
It is the shade of Mack the Knife, a ripper known as Jack.
There’s no good connotation for this tone of night.
You simply cannot find one—try howe’er you might.
Black robs you of your light and keeps it as its own.
It is a cruel jailer, sitting on its thrown.
Who would guess so many could be so misguided
as to elect a president who is so ill-betided?
What an ugly irony that he who decries colored skin
should have a soul whose pigment takes all color in.
No matter how you’re drawn to it, please take a different tack,
for no matter what you do, black doesn’t love you back.
The prompt today is black.
Azalea Twins: Flower of the Day, Nov 12, 2017
Six Word Saturday, Nov 11, 2017
Beauty depends on point of view.
(Please click on first photo to see photos in more detail.)
Don’t see beauty?
Shift
your focus.
For the fun SWS prompt.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 