tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13502106.post7465479469524986720..comments2023-11-02T09:08:36.866-04:00Comments on the word cage: Pulling the trigger.marybidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14100986477346925113noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13502106.post-85364460861370234982008-09-07T20:34:00.000-04:002008-09-07T20:34:00.000-04:00Good poem. Thanks for sharing it.Good poem. Thanks for sharing it.Brian Campbellhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17182888011015400963noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13502106.post-85077218297137567012008-09-07T15:23:00.000-04:002008-09-07T15:23:00.000-04:00What in the world is a Food Fountain? I won't be a...What in the <I>world</I> is a Food Fountain? I won't be able to sleep until I find out. <BR/><BR/>Seriously.John Gallaherhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02112997671155171626noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13502106.post-33489819752701214542008-09-06T15:42:00.000-04:002008-09-06T15:42:00.000-04:00Nice thinking for making a poem, Mary. I have a s...Nice thinking for making a poem, Mary. I have a similar kind of assignment for fiction writing.<BR/><BR/>Except we don't go wandering since if I wander I get distracted by everything and run into something really concrete.<BR/><BR/>I once knew woman with no sense of smell. I always thought she'd make some smelly man very happy someday.<BR/><BR/>BobBobhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18266437091249635868noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13502106.post-10311056493818925922008-09-06T10:12:00.000-04:002008-09-06T10:12:00.000-04:00Did I miss that memory about the Detroit Lions?As ...Did I miss that memory about the Detroit Lions?<BR/><BR/>As it turns out, I played little league baseball with Scott Mitchell when I was a kid. I offer this poem lifted from Billy Collins to express my feelings about Mr. Mitchell, who is now head football coach of my high school. And yes, the story is true. I think of this story every time I hear the words Detroit Lions or Scott Mitchell.<BR/><BR/><BR/>Another Reason Why I Don't Keep Scott Mitchell In The House<BR/><BR/><BR/>Scott Mitchell will not stop throwing the ball at me.<BR/>He is laughing the same high, rhythmic laugh<BR/>that he laughs every time he acts like a bully.<BR/>It must be a turn-on to torment the weak kids.<BR/><BR/>Scott Mitchell will not stop pitching.<BR/>I ride my bike all the way home before the game<BR/>and put on some Pink Floyd Music<BR/>but I can still hear him laughing under the music,<BR/>laughing, laughing, laughing,<BR/><BR/>and my grandmother makes me go back and play,<BR/>go back and confirm his status as the alpha-male,<BR/>the top dog as a natural athlete and leader.<BR/><BR/>When the ballgame finally ends he is still laughing,<BR/>sitting there in the bullpen quietly laughing,<BR/>his eyes fixed on the coach who is<BR/>praising him with his wild arms<BR/><BR/>while the other players listen in respectful<BR/>silence to the future pro-athlete’s theme song,<BR/>that endless coda that first established<BR/>Scott Mitchell as an evil athlete celebrity.<BR/><BR/><BR/><BR/>but I'm not bitter or anythingJustin Evanshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12161484350184865575noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13502106.post-79139023489115138052008-09-06T10:10:00.000-04:002008-09-06T10:10:00.000-04:00This comment has been removed by the author.Justin Evanshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12161484350184865575noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13502106.post-88313600857448031682008-09-06T08:23:00.000-04:002008-09-06T08:23:00.000-04:00The Detroit Lions?!?No wonder the despair and mela...The Detroit Lions?!?<BR/><BR/>No wonder the despair and melancholy in your poems!greg rappleyehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16498560951002730878noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13502106.post-23447725269694231702008-09-05T05:47:00.000-04:002008-09-05T05:47:00.000-04:00I've been thinking about sensory stuff a lot latel...I've been thinking about sensory stuff a lot lately and I think I'm an auditory kind of person. Besides smell, which always has a way of surprising me with memories, sound does too. And it's not always a memory of a noun (person, place, or thing) but sometimes a feeling. Here are my recent triggers: 1)Cicadas always remind me of the biggest clearing on the Minister's Creek trail in PA. Not so much the place, but the feeling of opressive heat and moisture when coming into the clearing. 2)The sound a rubber kickball makes when you kick it reminds me of being picked last. 3)Wind chimes trigger the memory of my neighbors in the projects. 4)This is a visual one. That sign on your blog reminds me of a dream I had when I was a fat kid, where a fountain of chicken McNuggets flowed abundantly into a river of french fries.Tobin F. Terryhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17827508770180861115noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13502106.post-39419242978939903252008-09-04T21:27:00.000-04:002008-09-04T21:27:00.000-04:00I taught this poem Tuesday, along with "The Day La...I taught this poem Tuesday, along with "The Day Lady Died." Students "get" the images from Soto and immediacy from O'Hara. I've taught these 2 poems for the last 9 quarters without tiring of them. They're my mainstays.<BR/><BR/>The scent of Clorox always takes me back to falling in a pool and nearly drowning. If I detect any whiff of chlorine, my lungs tighten, my heart races, and my legs cramp, anticipating that push off the bottom of the pool with as much force as possible. I'm not scared of water, but the scent of bleach is stupefyingly scary. No poem yet--but I think I'm inspired.Pamela Johnson Parkerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06637447850820805268noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13502106.post-84243705239008705652008-09-04T16:00:00.000-04:002008-09-04T16:00:00.000-04:00When thinking about this subject, I always return ...When thinking about this subject, I always return to these lines by Gary Short:<BR/><BR/>"The way dust smells like rain<BR/>before it rains."<BR/><BR/>I will be driving down the freeway and a particular stretch of road will remind me of a road in Germany. <BR/><BR/>When I hear "Combat Rock" by The Clash, I am suddenly riding my bike from my house to my friend's. I am 14 years old and always passing the town library.<BR/><BR/>Whenever I try to picture myself as a child, the first image I get is a picture of me sitting on top of my step-mother's shoulders when I was 4 years old. The next thing I experience is a car crash when I was somewhat younger. I see weeds poking up through the floor mats in the car. After that i can get more focused and directed in searching for an image or memory.Justin Evanshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12161484350184865575noreply@blogger.com