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Showing posts with the label poem

Today’s Creative Visitor

This week’s prompt for Poets and Storytellers United ’s Friday Writings  is: The Visitor. Here’s what I came up with, stimulated by today’s every-so-often visitor.   A Morning Caller She drops by from no where approaching silently,  stepping stealthily, suppressing giggles.  She whispers.  I didn’t know I had heard but here I am  enjoying her flash of inspiration, cleaning the microwave.  Yi-haw!    ♾️ I’ve a grand update about my Knee Joint Replacement Recovery Update. Happy, giddy news. I danced in the kitchen this morning to Creedence Clearwater Revival, Martha and the Vandels, the Hollies, Santana, and others. My new joint loved it. Knee-haw!  Off I go to visit other  Friday Writings   participants. Please, come join me.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❣️

Today I’m linking up with Art for Fun Friday and  Friday Writings . And, yes, indeed, today is Saturday. 🙃  Art for Fun Friday I created the fabric collage (above photo) recently on the backside of the board that we use for a makeshift coffee table. The board sits on top of Daddy’s hassock which, too, needs mending. (So many things to repair in this house.) The board’s original purpose, once upon a time, was the Husband’s drawing board.  Here’s the collage on the board’s front side, which I call the front because I covered it earlier this year. The collage is a combination of fabric, wallpaper, magazine photos, and vintage magazine ads. Fun! Friday Writings Prompt:  bleeding hearts Some people consider me a bleeding heart . The more hostile simply say effing libtard . I say, “you’re welcome.” Who’s the Bleeding Heart? You drop money in the church basket. You pray and ask for prayers. You go along with whoever you think has the the money, the glory, the fame, the power. You scoff at t

Red Hot Mama

Prompt: Red, Friday Writings , hosted by Poets and Storytellers United I don’t remember whether I gave the funeral home’s makeup artist a tube of Mama’s favorite lipstick. That was six years ago. I hope I did. Lipstick completes a woman, so I think Mama believed. Mama’s Lips Red, true red, was the color Mama traced precisely filled in carefully pursing lips lightly blotting away red. A final look, deep breath. Ready. -30- Head to Friday Writings to read what other participants are writing this week.

What are You?

Here I am,   sixty-eight. You still ask. Not what my name is, not whether I am from here, nor even how I know those you also know.  No. What matters, what gives you satisfaction is letting me know that you know what I am.  “Are you Chumash?” No, Lady. Deduct a point from your score. Peace and love.  -30- Sharing with Friday Writings  hosted by Poets and Storytellers United.

Tumbling Out

The poem I wrote last week settled something deep inside me. It also opened a gate of craziness, a joyful one.  I wrote, I painted, I breathed.  So, today, I’m sharing this post with Art for Fun Friday , hosted by Gillena at Lunch Break  and Friday Writings , hosted by Poets and Storytellers United.    For  Art for Fun Friday : A month or so ago I bought a package of canvasses of different sizes online. I didn’t read the descriptions carefully so disappointment was mine when they were delivered to our door. I thought they would be canvasses stapled to frames. Oh, well. Next time. They were cheap, so I kept them for those times I want to throw caution to the side and let the visual artist in me explore, experiment, enjoy.  Wow, I really said that: artist. It did not come easy to believe. Okay, back to topic. This painting is Exploration #1.  Yesterday, I globbed pastels, crayons, and acrylic makers onto an 8x10 canvas. Yuck. Today, I turned the painting upside down and continued onward,

Finding Peace

You could do no wrong  in her eyes,  so I thought. Maybe you thought the same way about me. There was no competition of who was the better.  You were always the first born, the son. Me, the daughter who lived. We were her children. She wanted for us to care for each other to look after each other without asking, without having to try. That’s all.  Where ever you are, may you be living in joy and love. And, peace.   -30- Sharing with Friday Writings , hosted by Poets and Storytellers United .

Keeping Sane

This week’s prompt for Friday Writings , at Poets and Storytellers United is “ be genuine / in life and ink / rebel against hypocrisy.”  Just Because Just because  you don’t want to learn nor understand, basic knowledge becomes misinformation to you. Just because  you don’t believe the facts  based on the knowledge  you don’t want to learn and understand, lies become your truth. Just because  what you thought was love had hurt you,  now nobody can have love. I sing joy, love, happiness, and peace, just because. -30- To join in, or to check out other participants’ work, click over to  Friday’s Writings .

A Fortunate One

Every day I’m getting a hang of being older. Other than paying bills and returning library books on time, any deadlines are self-imposed. Lucky me. May I not find out otherwise. Golden Days Wake up.  Play.  Eat.  Play.  Eat.  Play.  Sleep. Repeat.  -30- I’m participating in Fridays Writings   at Poets and Storytellers United . The prompt this week is small rituals and daily routines. 

At Wits’ End

The past few weeks I’ve been participating in Friday Writings  at  Poets and Storytellers United ,  who are a friendly group of creative writers. Taking part has reintroduced me to that writer long ago who wrote poetry and stories. Why did I feel like it was gone, no more, I was done? Haha, silly me.  This week’s prompt for Friday Writings  is a thinker. I thought I would pass but thinking about it is helping distract me from stressing out. Who would’ve thought? Here’s the prompt:  Be witness to these times we are living in and how it feels to be living in them. How does it affect you and/or how do you observe it affecting others? how does it affect me? today no different than forever smelling in the background, that aroma of fear, restless  eager and ready to be manipulated by the greedy.  how does it affect    me? these eyes haven’t changed these features only older this skin may be less darker still a potential target in those fearful minds brainwashed by the greedy. how does it aff

Friday Writing: Stay Curious

“Stay curious” is this week’s prompt for Friday Writing , hosted by Poets and Storytellers United . Molly the Pinky-nosed (Wilde) Cat was overtaken with so much curiosity, she fell asleep on the keyboard. Zzzz. As for me, the prompt led me to thinking about the “Who’s on First” comedy routine by Lou Abbott and Bud Costello (You can easily find it online, if you’re unfamiliar with it.) and eventually to letting a poem in the hay(na)ku format fall out of my brain.  stay curious. Who, said Bud, is on first. Who, asked Lou, is on first? Alternating Who. Who? Back and forth. Why?  asked Lou, distraught, desheveled, deflated. Why, said Bud, plays left field.  ©️Susan Echaore-McDavid For more Friday Writings , please head here .

Revisit, Revise, Renew

This week’s prompt for Friday Writings  at Poets and Storytellers United  is to rewrite a discarded poem or slice of prose from long ago. So, I went digging into notebooks past and found a poem I wrote after the First Husband’s Spirit soared into the Universe 27 years ago. I give you first, my rewrite.  Lemon Drops and Jelly Beans yellow, red, purple, pink lemon drops, yellow jelly beans—red, purple, and pink— sealed in your glass jar sitting on your desk for how many months only the sun seeing it I see it now only clearing out your desk music in the background drowning my melancholy the imaginary rustle of your candy bag yellow, red, purple, pink  ©️Susan Echaore-McDavid Here’s the original piece. Lemon drops and Jelly Beans yellow, red, purple, pink how many months old sealed in your glass jar sitting on your desk only the sun seeing it me seeing it now only because I’m cleaning up Jennifer Warren of the early 80s singing out my melancholy and I hear someone out there with your voice


Love Cat  purring, kneading on my lap. Husband  cleaning, bandaging my cut foot. Love, unconditional love, giving and given. ©️Susan Echaore-McDavid

Coming to Terms

Get Over Yourself Jump this high! Jump, we did. Jump higher, farther! No more. Done. ©️Susan Echaore-McDavid


   I want to create things that make me feel like I'm lying on a bed of vibrantly colored flowers. That's what came to mind when I saw an illustration from the animated film Story of Flowers. It also inspired the haiku. Please, take a look at the short animation . It may inspire you, too.