Poetry Thursday 8/30 - An Open Window

In honor of our last Poetry Thursday,

and "An Open Window" writing prompt.

Cast Away
by Constance Brewer

Wine bottles lined up in military rows.
Each dead soldier prepared for this,
the final mission, a critical sacrifice.
Coiled tight as an old phone cord,
notebook paper stands inside its green
glass prison, ragged edge rolled
face to face with straight blue lines.
No directions to this place, just a handful
of sand and a poem scrawled on each
sun baked page. If this is the end,
the words have their orders. Carry on.
Flung into the salt blue sea, bottles
spin in the current, bob their way
to the horizon, and are gone.

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Poetry Thursday 8/23

Oceans Away
by Constance Brewer



I live one thousand miles
away from the nearest sea
So tell me why I hear at night
the waves pound by degree?
I feel the deep dark pull of tide
that breaks against the shore
So if I live on the prairie
why do I have surf rapport?

Citizens of the Basement, Redux

Some more pictures of the underworld dwellers. I've been trying to figure out who's in charge. The cape buffalo looked the meanest, but some of these others could give him a run for his money...

Grizzly Bear

Wild Boar

American Bison

African Antelope

There are some quieter residents down in the basement, next time I'll try and give the antelope herd its due. Of course, the cutest citizens don't live in the basement, but roam the high plains of the front yard. This one is for my brother, who is an advocate for More Corgi Publicity Photos.

What to do during those dog days of August? Loll in the front yard and watch the world go by, of course.

Poetry Thursday 8/16

Bifocals
by Constance Brewer



A lens
in my eye
glass frame
is loose. Like
a shot-glass
window
in a derelict
house, it
........rattles
and
threatens
to.........fall.

Cartography For The Directionally Challenged

I love maps.

I took mapping in college and decided I would someday name a dog or horse - but not a kid- "Universal Transverse Mercator Grid". (I'm kinda rethinking that notion. 'Here, Transverse!' or "Here, Mercator!' just doesn't sound quite right....) My goal in the military was to go to Defense Mapping School. Well, I ended up at Ft. Belvoir (before they moved engineering out to Ft. Leonard Wood) but couldn't quite get the engineering tentacles out of me long enough to wrangle a transfer.

Terrain analysis, geodetic survey, photolithography, imagery and geospatial information, what's not to like? I guess I always was a geek at heart. Yes, I have maps of Middle Earth, the Neutral Zone, and the ancient Mediterranean. In my office I have maps of the county, maps of the state, maps of coal mine and methane well locations, BLM maps and ariel survey maps that appeal to both my geek and artistic sides. The only thing I don't have is a map of the surface of Mars. Yet. I will admit to being defeated by a map of Venice, Italy. I never did find my way around there using a map. Something to do with the canals I think. I hate modern maps, they have no personality, no individuality, and no warnings on the edges "Here There Be Monsters" (Highway Patrol)".

I have to confess to owning Pro Fantasy's Campaign Cartographer. (CC) Talk about a steep learning curve. Yikes. I've had it for over a year and I'm still trying to figure out how to manipulate sheets and layers. I have several maps for my fantasy worlds drawn out on paper, I had notions of transfering them over to CC3. We'll see. I have a drafting table, really big sheets of paper and watercolors, so I may just admit to myself I'm not as geeky as I think I am, and draw them out by hand.

But I hate being defeated by something as simple as a highly complex computer program with intricate commands and self drawing fractals. So I'm playing, because I'm not ready to admit defeat and read the stinkin' help file, I'm from the no guts, no glory school of mapping.

So far the score is maps- 4, glory- 0. Here's a map I made in Campaign Cartographer 3. Very basic, but it helps me visualize the area for a short story I'm contemplating. (click for enlargement)

Poetry Thursday 8/09

River Song
by Constance Brewer


From the banks of Susquehanna,
blackbirds sing out “Poor me”,
and bandy about patch red wings;
like signage on a marquee.

“Poor me, poor old me, poor little me.”

Blood soaked shoulder slash
underlined by yellow,
the drill sergeant has arrived
and soon begins to bellow;

“Poor me! Poor me! Poor me! Poor meeeee!”

Sodden banks of emerald green
threaten to burst before long,
swollen ripe with serenades,
weighty with bird song.

"Poor me, poor me, poor old meeee."

Where the Susquehanna bends
toward the fading light of day,
a last reminding plaintive call,
this acoustical bouquet;

“Poooor meeeeeeeeeee...."

Blog Tour - A Tendering in the Storm

Sometimes I'm a little slow on the uptake. This was one of those times. I was more than halfway through A Tendering in the Storm, by Jane Kirkpatrick, when I found out it was a sequel to an earlier book, A Clearing in the Wild. Luckily, I didn’t need to have read the first to understand the second. The author does a fine job of getting the reader up to speed in the first chapter.

Emma and Christian are a married couple who were part of a Missouri colony of Bethelites that moved west to settle in Washington Territory in the 1850's. With a few phrases, I understood much about the characters. Christian was "A tall man with a compassionate heart", and the Bethelites were "A hopeful people, faithful and perhaps dreamers, too". They "cared for others... making others' lives better than our own."

The protagonist, Emma, has her doubts about the leader of their colony, Keil, and her negative thoughts and mindset color her actions concerning the colony leader. The story alternates between the point of view of Emma, and that of Louisa, Wilhelm Keil's long suffering wife. From Louisa we see a different picture of the man, that of a patient, misunderstood visionary.

Emma continually clashes with those around her, friends, relatives, the colony she is supposed to belong to. She questions Christian's 'senseless' death with a ferocity that at first seems strange. As we get to know Emma, we begin to understand what drives her, and what sustains her. Her journey, while intensely personal, touches on many of the emotions that surround those who have lost a loved one to tragedy or war.

"I was quite sure there was no one looking out for me. I'd have to do that myself."

Emma does just that, making difficult and sometimes ill-conceived choices in her quest to be the master of her own fate, including a loveless marriage to a man she knows nothing about. In her words, "Widows do what they must to provide for their children." Emma makes a decision that has long reaching consequences not only for her, but her children as well. When the threat to her children becomes too great, it is the catalyst that drives Emma to making an important decision about her life and her future.

Louisa Keil is the anchor in the book; she remains true to herself even as Emma's world is broken and rearranged several times. Despite Emma's animosity, Louisa treats her with respect and love. In time Emma comes to realize it's Louisa's spirituality that is her stabilizing influence. Emma turned her back on everything important when Christian died, her return to both her faith in God and her faith in others is a long, painful journey, one that author Jane Kirkpatrick chronicles with unflinching honesty and well crafted prose.

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A Tendering in the Storm
by Jane Kirkpatrick
383 pages
WaterBrook Press

A division of Random House, Inc.

ISBN: 978-1-57856-735-5

Poetry Thursday 8/02

Fractured
by Constance Bewer


If I shatter
into enough
pieces
will my life
still be
semi-cohesive,
a broken
windshield
held
together
by fine wire?
Fate
is sticky
that way.