This photo was obviously not taken by a cellphone or digital camera, but I couldn’t resist, given John’s photo of a working payphone!!!
Remember when your only phone was in the kitchen and at least one other house shared your party line? This is me, circa 1952, talking on the phone to Lynnie Brost after my mom had washed my hair in the kitchen sink.
For John’s Cellpic Sunday, Aug 10, 2025
Ben Dykstra (My dad) age 13.
Family Stories
My father’s stories were not tales of moral principles or prophecy,
but rather reenactments of his roots—
tales of the open endless prairie
and the characters who peopled it.
Mirrors reflecting what seemed to me
to be a distant past:
forays to neighboring town dances
(told in the voice of Deafie Sterner)
to “See the leetle women.”
Tales of Hank Jarneck, Cousin Louie
and Grandma’s liniment cake.
Accounts of gray wolves, prairie fires,
children lost in winter blizzards
and reenactments of the voices of the wind
whistling through wall planks
and around the door during a winter blizzard.
In those days of my childhood before travel,
they presented a way to journey through time—
leading me back to my father’s roots—
allowing him to make those memories last
through another generation.
The debris of his life’s past
thus building the foundation
of mine.
For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 718 the words are: voices time story debris present
lead doors roots prophecy last mirror
Click on Photos to Enlarge.
Juxtaposition
Artistic types must juxtapose
these to these and those to those
just for the contrast, I suppose.
Somehow, each artist simply knows
to vary hues that they impose
upon the subjects that they chose
to depict from head to toes.
Poets may likewise words oppose,
and so may writers given to prose.
Composers also juxtapose
in sonatas or do si dos
whatever music sweetly flows
from saxophone, fiddle or Bose.
Shoulder to shoulder, nose to nose
such contrasts form the undertows
that draw attention, lift our lows
stir lethargy and banish woes.
As all these contrasts come to blows,
so our imagination grows.
Time enough to nap and doze
when life draws nearer to its close.
For now, stay open to the shows
of all who seek to juxtapose.
Prompts for this week’s SOCS are toe and/or tow. I used them both…and a few other “ose, oes and ows” as well.
For Fibbing Friday, the task at hand this week is:
1. Which Monarch famously said ‘I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king.’ Well, easy. DONALD TRUMP!!! (He lied about the heart part.)
2. What is the rarest blood type in humans? Blue Blood
3. Who wrote the novel Brave New World? Hiawatha
4. Which famous composer was deaf for much of his later life? Kurt Graunke–listen to his symphonies as proof.
5. What was the name of Rick’s nightclub in the movie Casablanca? Fred
6. What is the world’s largest species of penguin? The PenGuinness. (It set a world record, don’t you know!)
7. Who was the first female Prime Minister of the UK? Clementine Churchill. (Winston’s puppet master.)
8. Which painter cut off part of his own ear? August Macke the Knife.
9. What is the most widely spoken language in the world by number of native speakers? Nonverbal Communication
10. Who were the Axis Powers of WW2? The woodcutters.
Image by Sivani Bandaru on Unsplash.
I know. My answers, for the most part, are just awful. I hope someone does better than this….
Andrea Gibson, Poet Laureate of Colorado. Sadly, she passed away on July 14. This is one of the best presentations I have ever witnessed in my life. Please watch it.
I must take umbrage over those words
that you have shared with all the world.
My deepest secrets, revealed, I thought, to you alone––
lie here, their magic lost,
trapped in tabloids––worthless
except as wraps for fish and chips.
A Cherita, for dVerse Poets Thanks to Matthew Reyes for use of his image on unsplash and to Forgottenman for his additional prompt “umbrage.”
See other poems for this prompt HERE.
The Magician
Through what I choose and where I give in,
I create the world I live in.
If I’m a trickster, I trick myself
and lay my talents on a shelf.
Magic’s not a thing without
or a thing to sell or flout.
It’s simply using the strength within
to play the game of life and win.
For Writer’s Workshop: Magic. Image by Aditya Saxeena on Unsplash.
Forest Shadows
A man is bending his wife—
melding their shadows with the green forest.
They do not listen
to the nearby cannon’s roar––
will not imagine
that their life together,
so new,
might
not
stretch
into
the
future.
When he looks at his pocket watch,
someday children
ringing a well-stocked table
vanish in
her imagination.
He lifts his musket to his shoulder,
trying to believe
in a future
and in it,
this memory:
two shadows
joined as one,
invisible against
the forest wall.
For dVerse Poets, the prompt is “Forest”. If you’d like to participate, go HERE.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 