CAROLYN'S COMPOSITIONS

November 6, 2014

The Owl

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

THE OWL

 Bo Brocious, guest poet

The January 5, 2015, WordPress prompt is Daring DoTell us about the time you rescued someone else (person or animal) from a dangerous situation. How did you prevail?

As I groggily aroused myself from my mid-afternoon siesta my husband Monte rushed into the family room, retrieved his garden-soiled sneakers, and quickly slipped them on his feet.

 “There’s a bird caught in the deer netting (around our garden),” he said, grabbing a pair of scissors. The grogginess disappeared with my adrenalin rush. I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my camera, and raced to the garden. Sure enough, there was a bird in the netting. A big bird.

“It’s an owl,” Monte said, hesitatingly moving towards it to examine the situation. The black netting was wrapped around the bird’s feet tightly enough that Monte might need a surgeon’s skill to cut it without injuring the bird. He poked it gently with the handle of the umbrella he’d grabbed on the way to the garden.

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Still, he had to try. While using an umbrella handle to stabilize the owl he gingerly began snipping at the netting with pink-handled scissors. The owl, equally intimidated by us as we were of it, kept trying to reach its beak to where it could nip Monte’s hands.

My task was easier. Since I wasn’t going to risk the bird’s beak I stood back, waiting to offer Monte medical attention if it were necessary. And I studied the owl, wondering if it was one of the screech owls I kept hearing in the wee hours of the night—a noise that, when I initially heard it, made me want to call 911 to rescue whatever woman was being beaten. Then my trigger finger took hold as I attempted to shoot a prize winning photograph, which was difficult as I was repeatedly startled by the owl’s wildly flapping wings.

“Calm down,” I said—as if the owl could understand. However, it looked at me as if to say “what’s happening?” and calmed down somewhat.

After a harrowing ten minutes Monte freed the owl’s feet, but its beak-hold on the netting kept him trapped. It took a few minutes before it realized that if it loosened its grip it could free itself to leave. Standing back we watched it fly few feet. Its lift wasn’t high enough so it flew into the netting on the opposite side of the garden. We thought we would have to free it again, but this time, with a little trouble, it cleared the netting and flew into a tree and rested for a moment.

“It’s probably pretty exhausted,” Monte said as it opened its wings, gathered steam, and rose to become hidden by the trees.

When Bo Brocius read about this owl experience in the article It’s Been an Animal Day she responded by (more…)

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October 16, 2014

In Honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month: Malignant Fear

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

IN HONOR OF

BREAST CANCER AWARENESS MONTH:

MALIGNANT FEAR

 Tamara D., Guest Writer*

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 Speed Racing Heart

Stomach dropped to the floor

Breast smashed like a pancake

Too late to run for the door

Front Image Side Image

Deep breathing to the count of four

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Something is Not right

They need to (more…)

September 7, 2014

Doing the Tanka

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

DOING THE TANKA

The WordPress Weekly Writing prompt for September 2, 2014, encouraged me to write in a genre different than my usual—tanka, a cousin of haiku.

Traditional haiku is present tense, and captures a moment in time. It is a metaphor, not a simile, and  has 3 non-rhyming lines containing a total of 17 syllables in a 5-7-5 line structure (lines 1 and 3 have 5 syllables, line 2 has 7 syllables).

Traditional tanka contains 5 lines and 31 syllables, in a 5-7-5-7-7 line structure, although it was noted that many contemporary poets take liberty with these specifics.

We were encouraged to write about something in our lives, perhaps in the past week. Below is my attempt.

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HATCHET JOB

Mercilessly cut

the apple tree’s twisted limbs

no matter—who cares

likely his lifespan’s over

autumn brings apples galore

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GARDENING FRUSTRATION

Spring seeds embedded

in rich soil under the sun

seedlings do flourish

yield vegetables, flowers

that served deer and storm, not man

(more…)

April 22, 2014

National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 4—April 22-30

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

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Hug for Jan

NATIONAL POETRY MONTH

POEM A DAY

WEEK 4: April 22-30

Today is forth and final weekly installment of 7 poems I’m posting during April in recognition of National Poetry Month. Although I’m only a wannabe poet I’m sharing my collection of poems with you on each Tuesday this month. By the end of the month I’ll have shared 30 poems, equaling one per day for the month (in four installments). Note: the fourth week will include 9 a poems to cover the short week at the end of April.

Read the first installment National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 1—April 1-7 , the second, National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 2—April 8-14 and the third National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 3—April 15-21 .

Poetry is not my genre. However, I play around with it, mostly when I’m a passenger in the car. I cull them from a list of odd rhyming words or words that relate to each other somehow.

I present the final installment of nine poems: Accueil_scribe

APRIL 22: THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED

Passing through the woods, two asphalt roads diverge

One, smooth, straight, swept clean, swerves right, lays level

The other, gravel and grit browning the black, rises steeply

A red octagonal sign inspires the traveler to pause,

To ponder: which road? DSC00244e

APRIL 23: THE SINISTER MINISTER

The sinister minister

Reigned inside

While sin rained outside DSC00244e

APRIL 24: THE REVERED MAN

That man is quietly reverent

To local folks he is (more…)

April 15, 2014

National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 3—April 15-21

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

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Hug for Jan

NATIONAL POETRY MONTH

POEM A DAY

WEEK 3: April 15-21

Today is third weekly installment of 7 poems I’m posting during April in recognition of National Poetry Month. Although I’m only a wannabe poet I’m sharing my collection of poems with you on each Tuesday this month. By the end of the month I’ll have shared 30 poems, equaling one per day for the month (in four installments). Note: the fourth week will include 9 a poems to cover the short week at the end of April.

Read the first installment,  National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 1—April 1-7 , the second, National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 2—April 8-14 and the fourth, National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 4—April 22-30.

Poetry is not my genre. However, I play around with it, mostly when I’m a passenger in the car. I cull them from a list of odd rhyming words or words that relate to each other somehow.

I present the third installment of seven poems:

Accueil_scribe

APRIL 15: IN SPRING IS HOPE ETERNAL

March is weary

April is teary

May is leery

June is dearie DSC00244e

APRIL 16: ALIENS IN OUR MIDST

There’s aliens in our midst.

Illegal aliens.

Those among us without sanction.

 

Yet I wonder…

If we (more…)

April 8, 2014

National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 2—April 8-14

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

NOTE: CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS now located at

Carolyn’s Online Magazine

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NATIONAL POETRY MONTH
POEM A DAY
WEEK 2: April 8-14

This is second weekly installment of 7 poems I’m posting during April in recognition of National Poetry Month. Although I’m only a wannabe poet I’m sharing my collection of poems with you on each Tuesday this month. By the end of the month I’ll have shared 30 poems, equaling one per day for the month (in four installments). Note: the fourth week will include 9 a poems to cover the short week at the end of April.
Read the first installment, National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 1—April 1-7 , the third National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 3—April 15-21, and the fourth, National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 4—April 22-30.

Poetry is not my genre. However, I play around with it, mostly when I’m a passenger in the car. I cull them from a list of odd rhyming words or words that relate to each other somehow.
I present the second installment of seven poems:

Accueil_scribe

APRIL 8: WAITING FOR SPRING THAW

Frost nips the top of the golden corn stalks
Clouds burrow in the cleavage of the hills
Hillsides camouflage under misty white frost

DSC00244e

APRIL 9: ICE FLOES

Smoke rises up the chimney flu
Merges with the air
Water flows through trenches
Merges with (more…)

April 1, 2014

National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 1—April 1-7

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS Movicon2-happy

Hug for Jan

NATIONAL POETRY MONTH

POEM A DAY

WEEK 1: April 1-7

Welcome to April, when the earth is being reborn and new life bursts forth. Special Easter readings:

11 Facts About Easter

Easter—Children’s Stories & Poems

SHALOM! MY LORD AND MY GOD! The Easter Story as told by Mary

Also read April Days to Celebrate .

April also has April Fool’s Day, Earth Day, and is National Child Abuse Prevention Month, National Pet Month. and

NATIONAL POETRY MONTH

Today is the first day of April, National Poetry Month. Although I’m only a wannabe poet I plan to gather my collection of poems to share with you on each Tuesday this month. By the end of the month I’ll have shared 30 poems, equaling one per day for the month (in four installments). Note: the fourth week will have four extra poems to cover the short week at the end of April.

To link to the second week of poems click on National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 2—April 8-14.

National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 3—April 15-21

National Poetry Month Poem a Day: Week 4—April 22-30

Poetry is not my genre. However, I play around with it, mostly when I’m a passenger in the car. I cull them from a list of odd rhyming words or words that relate to each other somehow.

I present the first installment of seven poems: Accueil_scribe

APRIL 1: This first poem was written about watching trains with my granddaughter when she was 3-years-old (shes 16 now).

TRAINS

I like the trains, because I do,

No special reason. Just because they are.

We wait and wait for them to show,

They come from near, they come from far.

 

Grandma, and I, we have a morning picnic

On a swing by the tracks where we wait.

We wait and we wait and we have to leave.

THEN Amtrak comes. It misses us! It came too late.

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APRIL 2: WHEEZIN’

‘tis the season to be wheezin’

The sound for certain is not pleasin’

But for certain— (more…)

April 2, 2013

The Photographs Not Taken

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS
THE PHOTOGRAPHS NOT TAKEN

Apple tree devoid of leaves but filled with apples
Three crows sitting in the fork of branches of a leafless tree
Duplex outhouse, broken down

When my husband Monte and I travel I often take pictures through the car’s front window or out my passenger-side window—open, weather permitting. Sometimes open even weather not permitting, when Monte complains about being frozen from the snippy breeze.

Even though we speed fifty to sixty miles an hour past the object of my photograph many of the pictures are pretty good. I use the sports setting on the camera, which catches the scenery as it whizzes by.

However, I cannot always predict what might make a good picture until it flies past. Too late. Picture lost.

This happened when my husband and I traveled to Winchester (Virginia) and Cumberland (Maryland).

Thus, I’m left to develop a written description of the pictures not taken. And to resort to free online clipart for illustrations.

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Apple tree devoid of leaves but filled with apples

11970966981126273514johnny_automatic_barren_tree_svg_medYe olde apple tree
Barren of leaves
Offering thy bounty
Dried apples hanging

Three crows sitting in the fork of branches of a leafless tree

1258661944702491623drunken_duck_crow_silhouette_svg_medThree ebony crows
Pause
In the forks of  treeless branches
Tired from their search
For the sustenance
That allows them
To crow about their worth.

Duplex outhouse, broken down

James_Ward_-_An_Outhouse_Wall_-_Google_Art_ProjectNecessary house from days of yore
duplex style speaking of wealth.
I wonder what’s behind your broken down doors
with their boards now placed like pickup sticks
ready to fall apart upon being pried open.
What secrets are buried deep beneath your two-hole seats?
Discoomfort of cold cheeks?
Distress of illness shedding its evidence?
Privacy of your privy has primacy over family demands
offering refuge from (more…)

May 27, 2012

A Fish Tongue Twister…

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

A FISH TONGUE TWISTER…

(Happy Eleventh Birthday, Dawson!)

Good poetry aside, you might say “fins find fantastic food five times a day.”*

I took on the challenge, as a writer, to improve the poetry, although my genre is not poetry. However, the thought of creating a tongue twister is irresistible.

The initial poetry was excerpted from the article, 50,0000 King Salmon Come to Sodus Bay. The bay is located on Lake Ontario somewhere near Rochester, New York, according to my husband Monte. It was being stocked with fish to entertain sportsmen.

The wind was gusting at 40 mph and there was a brief white-out from some lake effect snow. Not the typical conditions for April 21st, however the 50,000 kings delivered to Sodus Bay appeared to be content as they were transferred from hatchery truck to net pens.

I wonder—how can you tell if a fish is content or not? I’ve visited the spillway at the Linesville State Fish Hatchery in Linesville, Pennsylvania, on Lake Pymatuning. The carp were several layers thick—thick enough that ducks walk on their backs. People stop to ogle them. Many feed them scraps of bread, torn from week-old loaves purchased cheaply at a shed, so they can watch them hungrily battle for their morsels. Somehow it reminds me of the concentration camps of World War II. This doesn’t speak of content to me.

Water temperature is critical to the transfer and Sodus Bay registered 43 degrees, while hatchery truck was 39 degrees…within the 10 degree window preferred by New York State Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) biologists.

…Actually, they don’t have a complete set of fins. The rear dorsal has been clipped for future surveys. Biologists will use this information to see how far the salmon roam. But…they will have a steady meal, eating fish pellets five times a day.

Manna became boring to the Israelites. Do fish pellets become boring to the salmon? Maybe they, like the fish in Linesville, jump for morsels of bread to brighten up their diet.

Anyway, I digress. The point is to improve on the tongue twister:

Fish fins find fantastic food five (more…)

May 22, 2012

This Hat

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

THIS HAT

(photos by Dmitri)

 

This hat is not the hat of an elderly—

     I err— middle aged—woman

It’s not a covering to enhance thinning hair

It’s not the color of a senior, on the downhill slide of life

It’s not a hat of propriety

It’s not a hat for icy wintry days

It’s not a true beret, the style of French artiste.

     But the elderly, in their wisdom, relish this hat

     Its colors accented  by gray/white hues.

     Seniors who celebrate life past, life to come

     With a boldness expressed by eccentricity.

     This hat represents what is—the eclectic electricity of creativity

A covering for the changing seasons—spring, summer, autumn, winter.

End notes (from an e-mail sent to me by Alice):

When she saw her first strands of gray hair, she thought she’d dye.

A backward poet writes inverse. (Appropriate, since I’m truly not a poet. I just play with the genre.)

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ADDITIONAL READING:

Hats Make a Statement

The Red Tuque

RUSS’S ASSIGNMENT: WRITE CAROLYN’S EULOGY Lent Devotion

My Spider Plant Lives: A Devotion

https://carolyncholland.wordpress.com/2010/02/26/my-spider-plant-lives-a-devotion/

RAINBOW’S END Part 1

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