Welcome to the Misadventures of Widowhood blog!

Welcome to my World---Woman, widow, senior citizen seeking to live out my days with a sense of whimsy as I search for inner peace and friendships. Jeez, that sounds like a profile on a dating app and I have zero interest in them, having lost my soul mate of 42 years. Life was good until it wasn't when my husband had a massive stroke and I spent the next 12 1/2 years as his caregiver. This blog has documented the pain and heartache of loss, my dark humor, my sweetest memories and, yes, even my pity parties and finally, moving past it all. And now I’m ready for a new start, in a new location---a continuum care campus in West Michigan, U.S.A. Some people say I have a quirky sense of humor that shows up from time to time in this blog. Others say I make some keen observations about life and growing older. Stick around, read a while. I'm sure we'll have things in common. Your comments are welcome and encouraged. Jean

Wednesday, May 31, 2023

Creative Writing Groups and Poetry

 

Six months or so ago I started a creative Writing Group here at the continuum care complex. We’re a small group with a core of four but we are faithful in our endeavors. Two of the members say the group has helped inspire them to start writing and keep writing---something they had planned to do in retirement but hadn’t gotten around to doing it until I started the group. One of them is a woman who has been working on writing several short-but-connected stories and claims it’s the first time she’s tried to write anything. She’s good! So good I have a hard time believing she’s as green as she says she is. On the other hand she was a librarian her entire career and as Stephen King says the best way to learn to write is to be ferocious reader. The guy who credits the group for keeping him writing does poems and brings a half a dozen to group each time we meet, usually written a few days before our get-togethers. I wish I could write that fast.

Another women in group is a pastor here on campus and she’s been writing for years, even had a column in the daily newspaper back in the '60's and '70s. She’s a true asset to our group, especially when it comes to critiquing the rest of us with her positive observations. Sometimes she shares beautifully written stories about her life that’s been full of dark twists and joyous turns like you wouldn’t believe. Other times it’s a sermon she might be working on that she shares. I’m a duck without water when it comes to helping with her questions on the latter topics. She knows I’m an agnostic which I told her in a one-on-one long before I started the group. I’ve written about her before labeling her with the name Ms Angel. And she is one. I fan-girl her because she’s wicket smart, has great recall and empathy and is non-judgemental. If she didn't wear an obnoxious perfume I'd probably pursue a one-on-one friendship with her. She's suggested coffee so I know she feels the same pull but sitting next to her for an hour of group is almost more than I can take of that perfume. It gives me a headache and you can smell her coming from eight feet away.

I’m the forth one the group---Chatty Cathy dropped out a long time ago and the guy who said he’d come back if she dropped out got voted off the island, so to speak. We had two others sample the group but they didn’t come back. We’re planning a poetry slam in the fall, open to all the residents to read their favorite poems. We’ll, however, be reading original stuff at our fireplace gathering place in hopes that will get some more people interested in joining us. It will take me from now to then to write something that might have universal appeal and to practice reading it out loud. Talk about breaking out of my rut and comfort zone, this will do it in spades.

A month of so after I was hospitalized I wrote a ‘dark’ poem and recently shared I it with my Creative Writing Group. When I finished, no one said a word for the longest time. Finally someone says, “I don’t know what to say” and another person was quick to agree. The third comment was, “It’s very different than anything else you’ve written.” I was embarrassed. What I usually share are humorous little poems and occasionally a slightly revised blog post. When I do the latter I call them slice-of-life essays because no one here knows I keep a blog, nor will they ever if I can help it. Half the time I wish I hadn’t started the group because it’s harder than I thought it would be to keep that secret. But the rest of the time I’m vain enough to enjoy the status I get from being known as "the person who has that writing group" even though I tell people, “It’s not my group, we share equally.” And we do. I’m proud of the way we interact with one another.

I was in a creative writing group back about ten years ago. We had eight members and I know if I had read my ‘dark’ poem (The Call) to that group they would have spent fifteen minutes dissecting it, tearing it a part piece by piece until I disclosed who was right in figuring out the caller and helping me decide if I need a third stanza or to drop the last line of the poem. (I still can’t decide.) I honestly expected it to be an easy poem to discuss/figure out/pick apart and I would have loved that but I was sorely disappointed by the reactions it got. So I made sure after that third comment that we moved quickly on to the next reader. Lesson learned: stick with humor in that group. With that introduction, I’m giving you guys a taste of my poetry. The first is titled Forensic Digest---a stupid title, I know, but long-time readers know naming creative things is not my strong suit. The second one is The Call, the poem that left my group speech-less. ©

 
Forensic Digest by Jean R
 
It’s a billboard screaming
an old person lives here ---
nail clippers, a forgotten mug,
a big button remote
with a crossword puzzle
next to a magnifying glass,
a shoe horn, eye drops and
and a potato chip
that lost its bag a week ago.
Cluttered chair-side tables
talk and tell stories
to our La-Z-Boys
who don’t care if they’re
partners in this classic
display of old people gear.
 
© The Misadventures of Widowhood

 

The Call by Jean R
 
He bays like a hound in the night
begging me to hear and come
along leading me to
where I know I must go.
In bed I listen to the notes on the wind
hoping the ghosts in the shadows
will lead the messenger astray.
But he’s playing his song calling to me
and it’s time to pay and go on my way.
 
A thousand memories keep me awake,
a hastily written memoir of fate
while the ghosts in the corners
listen and mark their slates
for the caller to add up their weight.
Is there enough to pay the way
through to the end of the line
or will I be left out in the cold,
a blind kitten alone in the dark?

© The Misadventures of Widowhood

 

Until next Wednesday...

45 comments:

  1. I like that first one about old age, but I'm afraid I'm stumped by the second one. I was born without the poetry gene.

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    1. I don't know much about poetry either, but just trying to learn about it for this group. My brother writes great stuff and always has. When I was in high school I wrote (bad) poetry that actually rhymed ad n followed the rules. This new-to-me free form is harder to figure out the unwritten rules. But trying is good brain exercise.

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  2. Is there ANYTHING you don't do? Excellent poetry, my friend. I'm finally coming out of my Covid shell and try to have at least one social event each week Olive and I go out every day even for just an hour or two. I am now officially OLD as I set my GPS to avoid highways! I sure miss you ,,.. may have to email you!!!

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    1. I don't and never did cook. But seriously, I'm only doing poetry now for the challenge, to exercise my brain. I don't have a GPS but I do google maps before I leave the house write down the directions. My niece tells me their navigational mapping is less annoying than GPS but I haven't had an opportunity to try that yet. Lots of people this summer are coming out of that Covid shell. I just hope it's okay as we are still getting one or two cases a month here on his campus.

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  3. Wow. I was hoping (as I read above) that you would share them and I'm glad you did. I know why they were gobsmacked. I was too -- because it hits close to home. I daresay almost every single one of them was saying to themselves, "Oh my -- she nailed it. She nailed who we are and the fears we have. And I don't want to think about that because it scares me." And it's good. Because it is real, it is raw, it is honest and it is observant, both internally and externally. You SEE things, Jean -- that's why you are a good writer. You see, remember, absorb. The editor in me sees a spelling/possession error in the last couple lines of the first one but the meaning is clear. (If you want picky!) But apart from those two words for grammar, I wouldn't ever thinking of changing a thing (not that you were) and I WOULD think of submitting that somewhere because... it should be.

    Oh, and don't write humor because it is expected of you. Write it because you want to or are called to. But don't stop digging deep -- or if you're not comfy with sharing "deep" with these folks, find an online group where you can. You are good.

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    1. Thank you, thank you, thank you for putting on your editor's hat. I made corrections so line reads the way it should. Darn dyslexia. I tend to read what I think I wrote instead of what I actually did write so proof reading is really difficult for me. It's probably why I keep writing because I can never perfect the process. Thank you for all the flattering things you said, too.

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    2. That's why there are editors. Between proofing our own work and spell check you never get it right the first time. I'm still finding errors in my family history. One more proof, then a printer. But I'm sure SOMETHING will still be wrong.

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    3. I find letting things set for a while without reading them, helps a lot when it comes to finding errors. But even that method doesn't always work. i.e. I've read the above poems at least 40 times over a couple of months and still when I published them here, there were mistakes to be found.

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  4. I happen to like The Call, and I like the metaphorical echo of the hound and the kitten. I think they play nicely off each other since we usually see dogs and cats as enemies of each other, and you are trying to avoid Death (I assume that's who's calling). I really love the idea of ghosts in the corners tallying things on slates: it lends not only a sense of spookiness, but of antiquity and volume--as if all the people in your past are there, including versions of you, marking on old-fashioned personal chalkboards the pluses and minuses of your life.

    It might be a good exercise to try a third stanza or even a final couplet. See if you have anything more you want to say.

    I'm also trying to figure out your rhyme scheme. It's very irregular, especially in the first stanza, then it seems to get more regular in the second, but still doesn't settle into much of a pattern. Is it supposed to have rhyme? As a creative writing teacher, I tell my students to either have rhyme or not; it's much better for the reader experience. Rhyme makes the brain/voice begin to settle into a sort of cadence of expectation. When the words stop patterning, the brain notices, and then it serves as a distraction from the meaning and experience.

    I wouldn't stop sharing these kinds of works with your group. I'd preface it with,"I'm stretching my creative muscle, so I'd like some feedback on this. Especially about these specific parts____" and then I'd name them. Help them to help you grow as a writer.

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    1. Thank you for the in depth feedback! Myself and the guy in our group are both trying to teach ourselves how to write free form poetry and so far we aren't finding any "rules" to latch on to to help us. Years ago in high school I used to write rhyming poems but I was never very good at it...unlike my brother who used to write good the good stuff. "... either have rhyme or not..." and your reasons for saying this makes perfect sense.

      Oh, and of course you are right about who the ghosts in the corners are and who is doing the calling. I'm 82, had a serious fall that made me take stock of my life.

      I think I will try a third stanza and take the poem back to group. With the right intro it could be good exercise for all of us. We tend to give general comments and not get into the weeds with each other. Thanks for the advice on how I might be able to change that in group. We really have grown close, though.

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  5. You nailed the "old people gear" in your first poem!
    I thought "The Call" was about Death coming but you aren't ready to go yet. I don't know why but I think you used "way" and "weigh" and "way" too much. I don't know what other words would be better, tho... :)
    Keep writing!

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    1. I'm not ready for death to call but after my hospitalization I sure heard it loud and clear and saw my future in a nursing home and couldn't help counting up my life compliments and failures.

      I'll take a look at the 'ways'. Thanks for pointing that out because---if nothing else get changed---I did find I misspelled weigh..should have been weight.

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  6. I'm glad to hear that your "core four" are continuing to gather and write. It sounds like you have a variety of writing styles among you--which keeps it interesting.

    After I read Forensic Digest, I looked around my home. Yep. We definitely live a certain way as we get older. I absolutely love the line about a potato chip that has lost its bag!

    I want to thank you for having the courage to write The Call. As a cancer patient, I have heard that hound calling in the night. I stay busy during the daytime, but once I go to bed, my mind goes in many directions. Maybe that is the way it is for most of us. I know nothing about poetry, but I don't think I'd change a single thing, Jean. And I think the last line is a strong ending. Strong endings....that's the goal.

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    1. Forensic Digest was me trying to describe who lives in a particular place using the fewest words possible and still use humor. It's a style I'm trying to teach myself since I started the group. I'm glad you could identify with The Call---well, not glad that you had reason to think about dying---but glad it resonated with you. It would be hard for me to believe we don't all get to that point, even if temporarily when we're down or had set backs.

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    2. I think you're right, we all do get to that point (where we think about dying), but many of us, perhaps most, turn very quickly away. Until we can't, any longer. And our society encourages this turning away, and constantly tries to distract us from thinking about it, but when you've had a near-death experience (which my stroke was), some of us feel we must think about, and make our peace with it, and prepare for it. I wish my parents could have talked to me about death, but it was a very taboo subject, and my mother's death from cancer when I was 26 shook my world. I've made it a point to talk to my husband and kids about what I want when I die (they should have a HUGE party and tell stories about me and laugh and cry and scream and shout, and I would prefer to be composted rather than embalmed and buried or cremated). I think it's much healthier to talk about it in small doses over a long time, and in fact I have changed my mind about some things over the years, and we've discussed that, too. Like you, I'm a non-believer, as are my kids and husband, and they're ok with talking about death with me, and I think it will be comforting to them later on.

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    3. I agree with you totally. My mom talked to my dad about what she wanted but not to us kids and my brother had a terrible time accepting her cremation and he couldn't even make himself come when we spread her ashes. My aunt had such a hard time accepting the cremation that her kid think it was a factor in her dying less that two weeks later. It's good to talk about this stuff!

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  7. Beautiful words. Thank you for sharing, Jean. I love that you started a writing group and that it is thriving.

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    1. It's interesting being in a group with two of them being super into their church interests but also being very open minded and accepting of me and my lack of faith. Of course, I'm respectful of them as well. We all have different strengths in our writing abilities so we all bring something to the table. "Thriving" would mean to me having a few more members but everything we've tried to get them interested isn't working.

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  8. I couldn't write a poem if my life depended on it. I read the poems in The New Yorker magazine I get each week and I often have no idea what the author really intends. I can decipher a general theme, which is frequently based on memory rather than direct observation, but sometimes no more than that. Still I read them because I'm intrigued by how people put words together. What I admire about your writing is your innate ability to convey not just an event, but all the emotional nuances involved. Much more delicious than a simple recitation.

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    1. It comes from years of confessing my every thought in a diary. LOL But seriously, the new-ish form of free form poetry I believe anyone could write if they had an interest in trying. My process is to write a straight forward paragraph, then condense and condense again and again until the essence of the theme is there but not the frill.

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  9. I like The Call and to me, it is death calling..and the ghosts, which are all your memories, are being added up to see it they are good enough and plentiful enough to keep you around a bit longer…
    I can’t write poetry worth a hoot, but I love good poetry and have saved many. I prefer the short ones that get right to the meaning…Mary

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    1. You nailed the meaning of this poem, which is pretty straight forward. I was going over everything good and bad I've done in life to see if they balanced out....as if they were payment for going to hell or heaven.

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    2. Hi Jean, from a constant reader and occasional commenter, this doesn’t have to be for publication, keep for yourself if you prefer! I laughed and smiled at the first poem and shivered at the second. And since you brought up your own questions re the second, I’ll offer my thoughts. I’d cut those last two lines and not add a third stanza. In my mind that’s a better stopping point, plus that way you connect the thoughts in the last line of the first stanza, and the (now) last line of the second stanza. This also adds an internal mental rhythm, which another comment suggested more of, when you tie in the last thought of both stanzas. Anyway, editorial comments are mostly fodder for more creative thought on the part of the author, so these comments are meant only as a beginning, not as an end. (Smile emoji goes here.)

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    3. Cutting those last two lines makes it stronger ending, doesn't it. Great food for thought...thanks.

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  10. Some nice poems here me I can't write poetry because I have no talent but I don't mind reading some of it

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    1. Most of the poem I read these days are in the form of song lyrics.

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  11. Your efforts at poetry have paid off! They're both quite understandable to me, and I like them! I wonder if some of your group didn't want to discuss death? Since you have written humor, that's what they expect. But these are deeper and they probably didn't know how to react.

    Over the years, I have taken some poetry classes at the Iowa Summer Writing Festival, and I think the more you read and study poetry, the more comfortable you will be with the cadence and line breaks. It's really individual style in most cases. (At least from what I've read and learned.) I had to laugh at the commenter above re: the poetry in the New Yorker. I am not fond of most of it either TBH. But now and again, they publish one of my favorite poets. One of my best instructors handed out a thick sheaf of poetry the first day and had us read all of it as homework. There was a wide variety and I loved some and hated some. So did everyone else -- we all had our favorites.

    Keep up the good work! You have great material. :-)

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  12. I think that potential writers may be put off by the idea of writing poetry. Many commenters here speak of inability to write a poem. I know it would scare me off. Genie

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    1. Our writing group is open to all forms of the written word---fiction, non-fiction, memoir, poetry, song lyric. It just happened by accident that two of us wanted to try our hand at poetry.

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  13. Jean, perhaps the other participants were hesitant to comment because "The Call" creates such vivid images and evokes such emotion, no matter whether you might be accomplished at the form or not. "He bays like a hound" lets us know that he whom the narrator dreads meeting, is not far away, within the distance human ears can hear him. He's approaching. I wrote YA novels, not poetry, and have never been fond of the poetry form, so I couldn't begin to comments on that. However, I want you to know that reading "The Call," I was reminded of a moment earlier this afternoon when two visiting grandchildren backed out of the driveway, one to graduate high school tomorrow and her older brother to leave for an internship in a high tech firm in Boston the next day, and then coming back in time to begin his senior year in college. As they backed away, I thought, "What if this is the last time I see him?" I pushed away the thought, harder to brush away than it would have been a few months ago, knowing that I'm feeling myself weakening this summer. I am the one I thought might not be around. The poem, whether it's adept or not, "calls" for that kind of reckoning with ourselves. Besides Walt Whitman's poetry, there is another poet and a particular poem of his that's always mesmerized me: Yeats' "The Second Coming." Out of an ordinary image that begins the poem, that of a falcon circling, he then circles around to those frightening lines, "A shape with lion body and the head of a man,/A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,/ Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it/Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds." Your images are nearer at hand than that of the exotic Sphinx Yeats employs, but there is something frightening and compelling about both.

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    1. Thank you for your insight and taking the time to share it with me. This growing old is not for sissies. I learned from this experience both with sharing the poem in group and online is that I'm very insecure in attempts to write poetry where I expose my innermost fears. In fairness to the others in the group I really didn't give them enough time to actually discuss the poem because I let my own fears and embarrassment get in the way.

      I can't imagine what it would it would be like to say good bye to grand-kids in this era of gun violence pared with our own weakening bodies. I'm glad they stopped by to see you before leaving.

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  14. No comment on the poetry - that gene non-existent.

    I laughed at the comments re Ms Angel and her perfume!!! That strong perfume would put me off too!

    I'm a loner and happy to be with myself. Finicky about the friends I make (or don't make). ~ Libby

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    1. Fair enough on the poetry. It's not everyone's cup of tea. I don't click with a lot of people and while I've got friends here they are not good friends who'd I'd confide in the way I do in the blog community.

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  15. I'm glad you shared your poems. I enjoyed reading them. I normally refrain from critiquing-type comments since I'm a former English major and proofreader (don't hold that against me, ha!) But since it looks like you're getting some good feedback here, I'll add mine. Both poems are very visual. Forensic Digest could have a better name. ;-) The Call is very evocative. I would make ghosts, corners and slates singular which would help the rhyme and meter without changing your point. I agree with Audrey (above) who advocates for dropping the last two lines or perhaps changing or adding. On my first reading, I found the last line redundant and the redundancy kind of ruined the ending of a good poem. Overall, though, two impressive poems!

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    1. I hate my title on the first poem and need to give it some more thought. My original title was Old People Gear, but then I used those words as my final line so I changed the title. Thanks for all your feedback on The Call. I may give my group another go around on that poem and ask for opinions on the various ideas offered in this thread. It might give us all a new learning experience on critiquing and me not to chicken out about showing all the sides of me in group. We're not used to getting into the weeds with other people's writing. I'm pretty sure you guys are right about dropping the last sentence.

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  16. I didn't think The Call was all that Dark, it didn't leave me speechless and was wondering why it probably left The Group without Words? But you know how Dark I am Naturally, so, I don't Write Poetry lest someone think me to be quite disturbed. *Bwahahahha* I remember a Dark Poem a Friend of mine wrote in High School, it stuck with me all these Years and it seemed to come from the very depths of a Teen Angst Soul as it winds it's way thru Puberty to emerge as probably a Butterfly in spite of Teen turbulence and some Teens feeling like a Misfit during those Years. I wondered who she Wrote it 'for' or 'about', but she wouldn't say, I just knew it wasn't me and was probably one of the Mean Girls that every High School has... which one tho', only she knew. I didn't even realize the depths of her Loneliness, often people fail to tho', becoz being Alone is very different than being Lonely around People. Anyway... here's what I remember of her Poem: "I envy you, you are so sincerely False, so sure for your own Self, to have many Selves is to have no Self. As for me, I'm here sitting all alone on a Cool Green Hill and talking to myself coz no-one else will." I had to Smile at your first Poem, since, it was as if you were looking at The Man's little Corner in here... LOL.

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    1. No one writes better 'anguish' that a teenaged girl. I think we bring on our own feelings of being alone because we often put on false faces for whatever reason. When we do that other can't get to know the real us inside. Like me rushing to invite the next reader so I didn't have to face rejection of The Call. People here expect me to be happy, silly or funny all the time and that poem didn't fit the box I put myself in.

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    2. I think perhaps the Audience there is the reason The Call made them consider and confront Mortality. With my Dad having been Native American, the Spirit World blended with Everyday Life, and so the transition isn't something to be Feared at all, nor Spirit. My Mom's outlook was considerably different, which is why she fought long and hard to remain in this Realm, whereas my Dad embraced The Call and considered a Good Day To Die in a very Peaceful way. I find myself more like him, my Brother more like my Mom. Each of us embraces Life and Death in such Personal ways that talking or writing about some things isn't easy for some... quite Natural for others. I enjoyed making my own funeral arrangements as if it was any other Shopping Adventure, I talk about such things openly and with a buoyant attitude about it. Some Family and Friends 'get it' and some don't, depending upon their own way of looking at Death and the inevitability of it. It is something each of us HAS to do, I wouldn't even want Immortality, it would just be too long a Ride.

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    3. I really didn't mind planning my own end of life stuff. But I was thinking it came from a place where I wanted to be a control freak, controlling from the grave. LOL I always thought "it's a good day to day" to mean a person is has all their spiritual ducks in order with no strings left untied, no one left to make peace with, no apologies left to make.

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  17. I've never been part of a creative writing group. You impress me with your spunk to start one and the ability to write poetry. I'd guess that by keeping your group small, and sincere, you'll learn loads-- both about how to write better and about what makes people tick.

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    1. We have done our best to try to build the group to an ideal of seven was our goal. But there are only 57 apartments here with a max of 67 people living here so I'm guessing it's unrealistic to think more that four of us share our creative interest. When I started the group I was naive in thinking someone else would rise to the top of being the facilitator. But it's been fun, especially the round robin fiction story we're working on.

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  18. For a variety of reasons, I fell well behind at work this month, and that means I fell behind on everything else. But here I am! I really liked the first poem. Even though it doesn't come close to describing my life just now, it certainly evokes memories of friends and relatives whose life kept narrowing down to little more than the remote and some empty chip bags. If I were to re-title it, I think I'd go with "The Non-Reader's Digest." For a certain audience (like, those over 50 or 60) that certainly would evoke even more memories, and tie your poem to a well-loved tradition.

    I wasn't so fond of the second, but something did occur to me. What would happen if you extended the baying hound/frightened kitten pairing into the poem's primary metaphor? Instead of the hound coming for you, let it come for the kitten, and let the reader draw the parallels. Just a thought!

    I think it's terrific that the group's still functioning, and providing a lot of interesting discussion. Good for you for initiating it! More poetry, fewer arguments -- that's the ticket!

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    1. That idea about the primary metaphor in The Call is a lot of food for thought. I've changed that kitten line around quite a few times before settling on what I printed above but I was never sure I liked it.

      Our little group is an interesting group of personalities. Two of us are very liberal, one is quite conservative, two live very religion-centered lives and I really appreciate that they accept my agnosticism without trying to "educate me." We all respect each other's writing and have gotten to know each other well.

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  19. Jean, I suffer from poetry anxiety the way other people suffer from math anxiety, so I won't try to comment on your poems (except to say that I admire those who have the gift of poetry).
    I think you would be doing your pastor friend a kindness if you found a way to tell her at some point that you'd love to spend more time with her but that you seem to have an allergic reaction to her perfume. It's possible that she has lost some of her sense of smell as she's aged and has no idea how powerful that perfume is!

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    1. Aren't you sweet and here you're the one who introduced my to Mary Saxton.

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