Oh you, with the fidgety thumbs! You with the eyes that refuse to blink, like a cursor frozen on a backlit screen! Put down your phone. Silence its pinging. Let your inbox fill— I work in infinities.
Backstory. My mother was in a bad car accident six months ago today. After a broken arm that did not heal, surgery, and recovery we finally got her a new vehicle last week and today was the first time she has driven. I was grateful for cell phones on that night.
My phone, though silenced, vibrates
An unfamiliar number on the screen
Me knowing the second I pick it up
Something is very wrong.
“Your mother has been in an accident”
Says a calm voice.
“She’s conscious” the only information given
Help is on the way.
Driving the dark rural roads
Ten miles never felt so long.
Calling your number even though you could not answer
Karri, this is such a beautiful, spare telling of your experience, and even with few words, the emotion and intensity are palpable. Like they are felt in what’s left unsaid - “she’s conscious,” they only information given. I’m so glad you’re mom is doing better and hope that the emotional scars of this terrifying experience continue to heal for both of you! ❤️
Wow, Karri - thanks for sharing this poignant, poetic snippet of what must have been a traumatic experience for you and your mom ("She's conscious" the only information given - this line felt like a blow in my body). So glad to know she has recovered, and I hope you have too. I also hope writing this poem helped release some of the holding of a big, scary memory.
I love this, Karri, and love that your mom is driving again and healing. Your poem is a wonderful reminder of how invaluable these little computers and linkages can be in times of great need, and to record the horrors the powers would rather us not see!
Whew boy, this is such a visceral one. I could feel the panic of that unfamiliar number and knowing it's bad news, the interminable 10 miles, and the relief of finally reaching your mom and getting to be there for her. I got choked up at the end -- so beautiful, Karri. Big congrats to your mom on her new car and getting behind the wheel again!
Finding God in the cracks. Yes!!! I love the idea of rebooting one's body with breath. such a great metaphor. Thanks for your fun poem and equally as fun prompt, which led to this silliness:
I love the playfulness, woven together with darkness! Ugh, it’s such a toxic and codependent relationship for almost all of us, isn’t it? Damn those “showy plays for my attention!” I’m imagining my phone as a peacock.
Your phone as a peacock! Hilarious. I see it fanning its feathers and squawk-crying. It sure is a complicated relationship. Toxic and codependent, yes.
Oh! This is amazing, Keith! It's hilarious and haunting at the same time. Fave scenes: "visions of you / in untimely, untidy meetings with / toilets or truck tires" and your delightful Yoda speak: "or backwards have I do that?" I love your phone personified as Persephone and in an actual relationship with you, rather than just singing from the rocks.
Thanks, Lindsey. I hear/feel you on the hating how real it is. I think it's kind of interesting that we still call the devices that occupy such a huge percentage of our lives "phones." I think about the telephones of my childhood, and I never gave them much of any thought at all, except when they rang and rang (this was pre-answering machines, even). A vastly different animal than the phones of today.
Thanks for sharing this, Larry. Things attributed to Hafiz never fail to resonate, and this certainly does! I have a feeling your church is not a fragile glass case, though. :)
They are a very caring community conscious of ways we are called to be brighter, more giving, open, welcoming and inclusive. We are staying at a nice AirBnB here and there is a daily Hafiz reader and one from Rumi we gifted last year to the place. What glorious ways of connecting in the world!
Dropping my phone in the toilet is in my top ten worst fears lol. I can totally seeing it happen and me just flushing it away due to my fear of public bathrooms in general.
I love this so much. The last stanza feels sort of understated in a really delicious way. Or maybe it’s not understatement - maybe it’s just that it seems to be phrased with gentle detachment, like you’re watching a movie of yourself or of society and feeling fascinated. It IS fascinating when I step back from it - how dramatically we have changed as individuals and as a society in response to technology . . . even though we don’t actually like all of those changes! The use of the word “systems” here gives me a lot to think about, as well.
Such a clever simile for our phones: politicians. "How difficult it is/to extract ourselves from/systems that don't serve us." This truth rents more space in my mind that I can say.
Yes! Such hard habits to break - for me its the just peeking at comments thinking maybe people wouldn't have lost their damn minds about something and might be reasonable. Spoiler alert. They never are!
This is brilliant, A. Written so eloquently and powerfully without bitterness and cynicism. The comparison to politicians is do apt and insightful. What happens if we stop charging them? Or trade up?
What vivid imagery! “Sopping up our heat like spilled soup.” I’m so glad I already know the ending (and that you didn’t have to call in the choppers). What a wild thing, to be so connected to civilization and so desperately removed at the same time.
Whoa, this is intense, Rebekah. I felt my viscera shrivel and shrink with the chill from both the adrenalin dump and the icy walls and floor of the glacier's pocket. I know from Lisa's comment that you left those four bars to their winking and didn't hail a chopper, but I'm dying to know what happened next! I too loved the lines "the walls and floors/are as hungry as we are/sopping up our heat/ like spilled soup."
Thank you Keith! 😍 We survived the night with no lasting damage. We slept on and off, and at first light we woke up to a marten peering down at us from the edge of our “cubby.” It was so cool! The sun came up and warmed & softened the glacier, and made it hikeable for us again.
.
The only truly sad part of the story is we had this amazing canoe-access-only campsite waiting for us at the bottom of the mountain, fire pit and cooler full of beer and yummy food, but we didn’t get to enjoy it — our reservation was over by the time we got back from our rough night. Might need a return trip! It was Mt. Moran in the Tetons.
Thanks for scratching my curiosity itch with these details! It must have been tremendously reassuring to awake to the sight of that marten...I'm starting to think of you as bird whisperer (among other things)! That is a heartbreaker about not getting to enjoy that plum campsite. I just took a quick look of some photos of Mt. Moran. Breathtaking.
This time it wasn’t a bird — it’s a member of the weasel family, about the size of a housecat. Check out Google images and imagine waking up to that cute mug!
LOL! Riiiiighhht...martin is the bird, marten the mammal! Now I'm even more impressed that you whisper to both! Those martens are adorable, and it's funny to think of you waking up after a night like that with a cute critter staring at you <3
Wow, Rebekah. What a powerful story in a poem. Gripping, compelling and real and I could feel your uncertainty and fear in your vivid and descriptive words. I am very grateful you made it out safely, and are here, enlightening us with wisdom and wonder.
We are out in Prescott, AZ visiting family and enjoying the high desert landscape. I did not bring computer and type terribly on my phone so I am not as active as usual. This poem did come to me on a bike ride today through the Granite Dells. The cloud hidden quote is from the late Alan Watts.
“Gone missing, silent, off the carousel of connection” - just beautiful, Larry! And I adore the ending. I feel like you perfectly captured the reality that even though so much good can come through our phones, they also act as foils, and there’s a magic to true solitude - the kind that doesn’t involve our little rectangular friends.
This is such a kind and gentle, boundary-setting ode to your phone, Larry, and it captures so well the ambivalence that so many of us probably feel towards our devices. I love the idea of setting one's status to "cloud hidden, whereabouts unknown." So many good lines in here, as well as beautiful descriptions of the terrain you're currently in. I'm glad you missed the Nor'Easter yesterday, good timing! Will you be there for the eclipse (will you miss the full one in NH)?
This is so lively and colorful, Larry. “Inopportune music masking / a call I could live without” — so many gems here! I love all the places you take us to at the end — the places you really live.
.
That last part made me think about Edward Abbey and how he advised us all to “get out there and hunt and fish and mess around… ramble out yonder, explore the forests, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air…” And if we did those things, he promised us “this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk-bound men and women with their hearts in a safe deposit box, and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this; You will outlive the bastards!”
.
If he thought our eyes were hypnotized back then I can’t even imagine what he’d think about our current state. Grateful for fellow travelers like you who still embrace analog living!
Thank you Rebekah! I like your invoking of Edward Abbey and I, too, wonder what he would say if our constant connection to electronic devices, much less the way we are tracked and surveilled. May we keep advocating for the wild places!
What a lovely image you paint of your bike ride! Unencumbered by the constant need to post, check in, text, etc....I hope you have a lovely time on your visit to the SW. I had to google the Granite Dells and what a lovely place.
"living the confident seasoned dignified life of opposibles" - this takes on a new layer of meaning, thanks to cellphones. Another way we can lord our "superiority" over other primates. LOL, SMH.
My late dad was totally opposed to smart phones when they first came out. He "didn't need a phone for anything but to make a phone call" - by the end he was as attached to his as anyone!
I really appreciate the prompts behind every poem. I'm just dabbling into poetry ( a nicer way of calling me a newbie) and this helps clear things up significantly. Thank you!
I’m so glad the prompts feel helpful! If you ever want to share your dabblings, we would love to read them. We’ve all been beginners. (I still think of myself that way.)
It is so nice to have you with us’. I feel like every poem is a beginning, and we welcome all the doodling, noodling, play and joy from these words of our begging to interact with each other!
Lisa, what a magnificent poem and prompt. I, too, love “don’t waste your breath on shame.” In a shame culture such as ours, it is hard to avoid. I am off to spend some time with my phone.
Thanks, Larry! May your time with your phone be nourishing. (I’ve certainly had my fair share of the opposite experience, as I suspect, have all of us.)
Backstory. My mother was in a bad car accident six months ago today. After a broken arm that did not heal, surgery, and recovery we finally got her a new vehicle last week and today was the first time she has driven. I was grateful for cell phones on that night.
My phone, though silenced, vibrates
An unfamiliar number on the screen
Me knowing the second I pick it up
Something is very wrong.
“Your mother has been in an accident”
Says a calm voice.
“She’s conscious” the only information given
Help is on the way.
Driving the dark rural roads
Ten miles never felt so long.
Calling your number even though you could not answer
Hoping to hear your voice.
Red and blue lights strobe up ahead
Running across the busy highway as traffic slows.
“I’m here” I say
Grateful my number was in your phone.
Karri, this is such a beautiful, spare telling of your experience, and even with few words, the emotion and intensity are palpable. Like they are felt in what’s left unsaid - “she’s conscious,” they only information given. I’m so glad you’re mom is doing better and hope that the emotional scars of this terrifying experience continue to heal for both of you! ❤️
Wow, Karri - thanks for sharing this poignant, poetic snippet of what must have been a traumatic experience for you and your mom ("She's conscious" the only information given - this line felt like a blow in my body). So glad to know she has recovered, and I hope you have too. I also hope writing this poem helped release some of the holding of a big, scary memory.
Thank you Keith. I had trying writing about it before but it was the trigger of the prompt and the cell phone that finally pulled it together!
I love this, Karri, and love that your mom is driving again and healing. Your poem is a wonderful reminder of how invaluable these little computers and linkages can be in times of great need, and to record the horrors the powers would rather us not see!
Whew boy, this is such a visceral one. I could feel the panic of that unfamiliar number and knowing it's bad news, the interminable 10 miles, and the relief of finally reaching your mom and getting to be there for her. I got choked up at the end -- so beautiful, Karri. Big congrats to your mom on her new car and getting behind the wheel again!
Thanks! She went to Walmart by herself to get her groceries yesterday - yay!
The downbeat to so many berserk codas
is that dang phone call.
Wooof. Thanks for sharing this tuff one
I'm so happy to know that you both made it to the other side of this night. The intensity of it is palpable in your poem.
Finding God in the cracks. Yes!!! I love the idea of rebooting one's body with breath. such a great metaphor. Thanks for your fun poem and equally as fun prompt, which led to this silliness:
O, how I love you
when I don’t hate you.
I yearn for you when we’re apart,
I revile you when we’re together.
We’re an attachment disorder disaster, baby –
you anxious, me avoidant –
or backwards have I do that?
When you’re out of reach or
out of range
I ache with longing for you.
But when you clamor for me,
making showy plays for my attention,
I burn red-hot with resentment.
Dark fantasies descend, visions of you
in untimely, untidy meetings with
toilets or truck tires.
But
the truth is,
thoughts of losing you
or of your sudden death
turn me pasty
and you prone to slipping
fast from my clammy clasp. You -
you’ve put a spell on me,
Persephone,
aka
iPhone SE.
I love the playfulness, woven together with darkness! Ugh, it’s such a toxic and codependent relationship for almost all of us, isn’t it? Damn those “showy plays for my attention!” I’m imagining my phone as a peacock.
Your phone as a peacock! Hilarious. I see it fanning its feathers and squawk-crying. It sure is a complicated relationship. Toxic and codependent, yes.
Oh! This is amazing, Keith! It's hilarious and haunting at the same time. Fave scenes: "visions of you / in untimely, untidy meetings with / toilets or truck tires" and your delightful Yoda speak: "or backwards have I do that?" I love your phone personified as Persephone and in an actual relationship with you, rather than just singing from the rocks.
Thanks, Rebekah. Yoda and I appreciate we do your kind feedback :)
“We’re an attachment disorder disaster, baby”
Priceless.
Loved all of it. But also hate that it’s so real 😆
Thanks, Lindsey. I hear/feel you on the hating how real it is. I think it's kind of interesting that we still call the devices that occupy such a huge percentage of our lives "phones." I think about the telephones of my childhood, and I never gave them much of any thought at all, except when they rang and rang (this was pre-answering machines, even). A vastly different animal than the phones of today.
I ❤️ love ❤️ this Keith! Silliness equal wisdom! You’ve have coined a wonderful phrase and description “ attachment disorder disaster”. Oh yes!
Silliness equals wisdom! Yes!
Thanks, Larry 🤓 - my word nerd loves that you appreciated my phrasing!
Keith, this poem and our exchange following your letter to Ron DeSantis resonated in a short Hafiz poem I read today.
I Had a Legitimate Excuse
I had a legitimate excuse for not going to the
mosque and temple to pray.
It was because love is so wild in me I might
break the fragile glass cage all religions
are made of.
Hafiz
Thanks for sharing this, Larry. Things attributed to Hafiz never fail to resonate, and this certainly does! I have a feeling your church is not a fragile glass case, though. :)
They are a very caring community conscious of ways we are called to be brighter, more giving, open, welcoming and inclusive. We are staying at a nice AirBnB here and there is a daily Hafiz reader and one from Rumi we gifted last year to the place. What glorious ways of connecting in the world!
I love hearing all of this, including the idea of daily doses of Hafiz and Rumi. What a lovely gift <3
Dropping my phone in the toilet is in my top ten worst fears lol. I can totally seeing it happen and me just flushing it away due to my fear of public bathrooms in general.
As a germophobe from way back, I feel you on this, Karri. May you never have to make that call (pun intended)!
.....toilets or truck tires.......
You know I love alliteration, even when grim ; )
I love the humour and the desperation of this, Keith. I wish it weren't so relatable.
Thanks, A. Yes, it's a really fine line between laugh/cry when it comes to the phone relationship.
Connect me to others
And let me see
How I am viewed
Every minute
Every hour
Every day
I seek out the connection
Is it love?
Is it validation?
We’ve been granted
The ability
To thrive
We’ve been granted
The freedom
To devolve
This little device
In my hand
Is using me
It lets me think
That I
Am in control
But in reality
It controls
Me
Yes! This feels so true and resonant. Reminds me of this fascinating but also very sobering article on the state of culture - https://open.substack.com/pub/tedgioia/p/the-state-of-the-culture-2024?r=7ymx1&utm_medium=ios
Free will = the freedom to devolve. This is a truth-laden poem, and I especially love the truth twist at the end.
Ahh the validation....checking for the "likes" - very nicely done Billy!
I’m afraid to click “like”. Lol
Present thread on Substack excepted lol
And adding the number of times I check my email for notifications after I post something is embarrassing lol.
(..confession..)
( I would secretly collect my rare nadia bolz weber "likes")
If only Nadia Bolz Weber, who seeth in secret, would also reward me openly!
"every minute every hour every day"
looked good on paper.
Those last three little stanzas are so powerful, they could be their own poem.
Sometimes I think
my phone must relate
to politicians;
it's smart, after all,
and adept at over-promising
and under-delivering on
the things we actually need
while confidently forcing
features no one asked for.
Interesting,
how difficult it is
to extract ourselves from
systems that don't serve us.
Such a great overarching metaphor, too!
I love this so much. The last stanza feels sort of understated in a really delicious way. Or maybe it’s not understatement - maybe it’s just that it seems to be phrased with gentle detachment, like you’re watching a movie of yourself or of society and feeling fascinated. It IS fascinating when I step back from it - how dramatically we have changed as individuals and as a society in response to technology . . . even though we don’t actually like all of those changes! The use of the word “systems” here gives me a lot to think about, as well.
Such a clever simile for our phones: politicians. "How difficult it is/to extract ourselves from/systems that don't serve us." This truth rents more space in my mind that I can say.
Yes! Such hard habits to break - for me its the just peeking at comments thinking maybe people wouldn't have lost their damn minds about something and might be reasonable. Spoiler alert. They never are!
This is brilliant, A. Written so eloquently and powerfully without bitterness and cynicism. The comparison to politicians is do apt and insightful. What happens if we stop charging them? Or trade up?
(Maybe they will just go away.)
What’s Your Emergency?
.
Ours is this:
We are in a cubby of
rock and ice, a sheer mile
above our tent, stranded.
.
The glacier asked us to stay.
She set up before we could pass.
She gave us a pocket to crawl into,
but the walls and floors are as
.
hungry as we are, sopping up our
heat like spilled soup.
We curl together on lumps of
pack and rope, and in low tones,
.
discuss survival. Is it safe to sleep?
Could we even? And what about
those four bars, winking from
upscreen left? They needle us
.
with age-old questions: When is it
enough? When do we call in the
choppers? When do we quit
the dark house, the freedom
.
and cleanness of it, and
lit by every eye, identify
as human beings who need
help?
What vivid imagery! “Sopping up our heat like spilled soup.” I’m so glad I already know the ending (and that you didn’t have to call in the choppers). What a wild thing, to be so connected to civilization and so desperately removed at the same time.
Per your last poem, I think *this* is why people call you brave.
Ah, I love that reflection. Thank you, A!
Whoa, this is intense, Rebekah. I felt my viscera shrivel and shrink with the chill from both the adrenalin dump and the icy walls and floor of the glacier's pocket. I know from Lisa's comment that you left those four bars to their winking and didn't hail a chopper, but I'm dying to know what happened next! I too loved the lines "the walls and floors/are as hungry as we are/sopping up our heat/ like spilled soup."
Thank you Keith! 😍 We survived the night with no lasting damage. We slept on and off, and at first light we woke up to a marten peering down at us from the edge of our “cubby.” It was so cool! The sun came up and warmed & softened the glacier, and made it hikeable for us again.
.
The only truly sad part of the story is we had this amazing canoe-access-only campsite waiting for us at the bottom of the mountain, fire pit and cooler full of beer and yummy food, but we didn’t get to enjoy it — our reservation was over by the time we got back from our rough night. Might need a return trip! It was Mt. Moran in the Tetons.
Thanks for scratching my curiosity itch with these details! It must have been tremendously reassuring to awake to the sight of that marten...I'm starting to think of you as bird whisperer (among other things)! That is a heartbreaker about not getting to enjoy that plum campsite. I just took a quick look of some photos of Mt. Moran. Breathtaking.
This time it wasn’t a bird — it’s a member of the weasel family, about the size of a housecat. Check out Google images and imagine waking up to that cute mug!
LOL! Riiiiighhht...martin is the bird, marten the mammal! Now I'm even more impressed that you whisper to both! Those martens are adorable, and it's funny to think of you waking up after a night like that with a cute critter staring at you <3
Powerful imagery
Oh my goodness...that was intense. Even knowing that you are here and fine! I had to google the marten and squeee....what a funny looking little guy!!
The marten is definitely squee-inducing, I love that!
Wow, Rebekah. What a powerful story in a poem. Gripping, compelling and real and I could feel your uncertainty and fear in your vivid and descriptive words. I am very grateful you made it out safely, and are here, enlightening us with wisdom and wonder.
We are out in Prescott, AZ visiting family and enjoying the high desert landscape. I did not bring computer and type terribly on my phone so I am not as active as usual. This poem did come to me on a bike ride today through the Granite Dells. The cloud hidden quote is from the late Alan Watts.
“Don’t look at me that way.
We’ve been together all day,
and I need some alone time,
away from the locator,
the Tile finder, the pinging and tracking,
the crushing sense that my life is reduced
to what I do through you,
my sleek and stylish brand new phone.
I know I sound ungrateful,
You bring me music and the weather,
Get me to where I am supposed to be,
Direct me when I am lost,
bring me the news,
whether I want it or not.
Find long lost friends,
capture the moment in a picture,
improve my brand in social media,
and are there for me in an emergency.
Yes, yes, I am so appreciative…
but sometimes I just need to be
‘cloud hidden whereabouts unknown.’
Gone missing, silent, off the carousel
of connection that has become our lives.
I’ve spent most of my life
without you and your ancestors,
a vibration in my pocket,
inopportune music masking
a call I could live without.
Those who love me know
where to find me.
In the deepest canyons,
a rolling river,
A sun-bleached desert,
peaks beyond peaks,
the quiet sound of the forest at night,
breathing in rythym with life still to come,
wondering and wandering
where the madness can’t touch me.
Thank you, little rectangular friend.
You are needed elsewhere."
“Gone missing, silent, off the carousel of connection” - just beautiful, Larry! And I adore the ending. I feel like you perfectly captured the reality that even though so much good can come through our phones, they also act as foils, and there’s a magic to true solitude - the kind that doesn’t involve our little rectangular friends.
This is so well said, Lisa! I have to work on a response poem from my rectangular friend. Equal time!
Haha i want to read that poem for sure!
This is such a kind and gentle, boundary-setting ode to your phone, Larry, and it captures so well the ambivalence that so many of us probably feel towards our devices. I love the idea of setting one's status to "cloud hidden, whereabouts unknown." So many good lines in here, as well as beautiful descriptions of the terrain you're currently in. I'm glad you missed the Nor'Easter yesterday, good timing! Will you be there for the eclipse (will you miss the full one in NH)?
Thank you Keith! Ah, we’ll be in the Southwestern Mountains for the eclipse and miss some of the prime viewing in N.H.! Be safe, well and warm.
Thanks, Larry. I plan to trek up to VT to see the full 100% version (we're "only" getting about 95% here in MA). Enjoy the rest of your time away!
Excellent. "...the pinging and the tracking.....".where the madness can't touch me"
Reminds me of that commercial where where this guy drives up hops out holds his phone up and sez "nope, not here".
Repeats a few times
Til he gets a "Yes" "no bars" .
Not sure what the ad was selling.✌️
It must have been selling serenity! Thanks for reading, Chuck.
This is so lively and colorful, Larry. “Inopportune music masking / a call I could live without” — so many gems here! I love all the places you take us to at the end — the places you really live.
.
That last part made me think about Edward Abbey and how he advised us all to “get out there and hunt and fish and mess around… ramble out yonder, explore the forests, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air…” And if we did those things, he promised us “this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk-bound men and women with their hearts in a safe deposit box, and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this; You will outlive the bastards!”
.
If he thought our eyes were hypnotized back then I can’t even imagine what he’d think about our current state. Grateful for fellow travelers like you who still embrace analog living!
Thank you Rebekah! I like your invoking of Edward Abbey and I, too, wonder what he would say if our constant connection to electronic devices, much less the way we are tracked and surveilled. May we keep advocating for the wild places!
What a lovely image you paint of your bike ride! Unencumbered by the constant need to post, check in, text, etc....I hope you have a lovely time on your visit to the SW. I had to google the Granite Dells and what a lovely place.
It is a magical place that lots of local folks are working hard to permanently protect. Thank you for the good wishes.
I need to get better at these boundaries. Beautiful, Larry.
My sense is we often get better at them by not being so good at them!
Just like all the other piece-parts, we are 67.
Both of us.
Very much at peace with our assigned tasks.
Other than the occasional butt implant,
we are proud to serve,
to be the one step above other critters,
living the confident seasoned dignified life of opposibles.
We were very much looking forward to a smooth and regal sail into our twilight years.
Blindsided hoodwinked and dragged unwillingly back to school in our third third was not a part of the master plan.
Sink. or. swim.
WTF.
IDK.
IMHO,
BS.
Dang cellphones.
This had me laughing! I love the disintegration from beautiful poetry to WTF IDK IMHO BS.
"living the confident seasoned dignified life of opposibles" - this takes on a new layer of meaning, thanks to cellphones. Another way we can lord our "superiority" over other primates. LOL, SMH.
My late dad was totally opposed to smart phones when they first came out. He "didn't need a phone for anything but to make a phone call" - by the end he was as attached to his as anyone!
We would have gotten along well. Kindred spirits. I used to claim my upgrade was getting a 20 ft extension added to the kitchen wall phone.
Our poor thumbs! They never asked for this. IMHO, BS — ha, I love it!
tx Ck 4 a GP.
Lisa, it is National Poetry month! What a wonderful place and people to celebrate with!!!!
Yay!!! And thank you for reminding me! I should have mentioned that in my post - I’ll work it in on the next one.
I really appreciate the prompts behind every poem. I'm just dabbling into poetry ( a nicer way of calling me a newbie) and this helps clear things up significantly. Thank you!
I’m so glad the prompts feel helpful! If you ever want to share your dabblings, we would love to read them. We’ve all been beginners. (I still think of myself that way.)
It is so nice to have you with us’. I feel like every poem is a beginning, and we welcome all the doodling, noodling, play and joy from these words of our begging to interact with each other!
Let your inbox fill—
I work in infinities.
So many great lines. And I join the chorus of people appreciating God’s gentleness and understanding 💗💗
Thank you, Lindsey! I find myself thoroughly unimpressed by any god who isn’t gentle.
I echo that Lisa!
I like this.
god sounds like a most good and most patient mom at the table with her teenager.
Nice stuff
Thanks, Chuck! I love that image of God.
"Don't waste your breath on shame"
Oh what a lovely reminder for us not to immediately reach for these devices every spare moment - beautifully written Lisa!
Thank you, Karri! It’s a reminder I need every day.
Lisa, what a magnificent poem and prompt. I, too, love “don’t waste your breath on shame.” In a shame culture such as ours, it is hard to avoid. I am off to spend some time with my phone.
Thanks, Larry! May your time with your phone be nourishing. (I’ve certainly had my fair share of the opposite experience, as I suspect, have all of us.)
Lisa, I am ambivalent, at best, with my phone and given the number of times I have misplaced it, clearly have a need/don’t need relationship!
Lovely poem Lisa. ,sweetheart-loved that little addition
The downbeat to so many berserk codas
is that dang phone call.
Wooof.