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- Written by: Tracey Kiff-Judson
- Category: Blog
OOOPS! If you ended up on this post for Poetry Friday on October 20, 2023, please click here to get to the correct post. Sorry for the confusion!
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In researching the formation of earth, I went down a wormhole on the NASA website that ultimately led me to this video: TIMELAPSE OF THE FUTURE: A Journey to the End of Time
WOW! It projects the future at an exponentially increasing rate of speed from the year 2019 through the end of time. It is lengthy (I guess it takes a while to travel through virtual eternity!), but it's mind-blowing. I recommend the entire video, but even if you watch just the first couple minutes, it is thought-provoking.
It's also a lot to grasp – both intellectually and emotionally. In the existence of the universe, only during pinpoint periods of time, can intelligent life exist -- and here we are! The point in time when time ceases to exist (or at least becomes irrelevant) is hard to comprehend. The thought of creating or jumping to a parallel universe is mind bending. This video left me feeling the simultaneous pertinence and insignificance of this moment.
Pertinent Impermanence
A speck of time:
a flag flutter,
a leaf turn,
a minnow ripple,
a sunbeam,
each particle of now,
will not exist
in the future.
Nothing will be
exactly
as it is now
in the next
nanosecond.
I offer these minnows for your consideration. : )
Time is fleeting! Enjoy this Poetry Friday by visiting Jama at Jama’s Alphabet Soup!
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- Written by: Tracey Kiff-Judson
- Category: Blog
Photo by Jørgen Håland on Unsplash
Thanks to Marcie Flinchum Atkins, I have fallen in under the spell of the double dactyl. As Marcie referenced in her recent blog post, the double dactyl was popularized in the 1960’s in the publication Esquire magazine and later in the collection Jiggery-Pokery: A Compendium of Double Dactyls, edited by Anthony Hecht and John Hollander.
Double Dactyl Form Rules:
- 2 stanzas of dactylic verse, usually with a silly tone
- Stanza 1:
- line 1 – a jingle or "spell," in the meter /uu/uu (DUM-da-da DUM-da-da)
- line 2 – a name, in the meter /uu/uu
- line 3 – information about the person, in the meter /uu/uu
- line 4 – meter /uu/ (DUM-da-da-DUM)
- Stanza 2:
- line 5 – meter /uu/uu
- line 6 – meter /uu/uu
- line 7 – meter /uu/uu
- line 8 – meter /uu/ and must rhyme with line 4
where "u" is an unstressed beat/syllable, and "/" is a stressed syllable, so the meter has a DUM-da-da DUM-da-da rhythm. DUM-da-da is called a "dactyl," so doubling gives the term "double dactyl."
So here goes …
Booboo Baboingity
Springity sproingity,
Booboo Baboingity
Sprang from a bridge with a
Leap and a prayer.
Bungee cord snapped in two.
Last thing I heard was Boo
Yelling out something -- I
think was a swear.
Hmmm. Maybe I had better keep practicing.
Happy Poetry Friday! This week, be sure to stop by and visit Carol at Beyond LiteracyLink for all things poetic!
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- Written by: Tracey Kiff-Judson
- Category: Blog
“If a writer stops observing he is finished. Experience is communicated by small details intimately observed.”
― Ernest Hemingway
Many (dare I say most?) poems call attention to details, or as Irene Latham says, “Explode the moment.” Many poets pay close attention to the visual details around them to gain inspiration for their poetry. They observe and stash away snippets. Then they are deviled by the details of sorting through the scraps of words that they have collected and stitching them together into a beautiful poem.
I have a “detail noticing” challenge for you, but first some background: when I was little, my mother would occasionally buy Games Magazine for me. My favorite puzzle was a series of extremely close-up photographs. The challenge was to identify the depicted object with just that visual snippet of information. Through the magic of cropping, I present to you a series of such photos. Feel free to guess the subject of each picture. Observing the tiny details helps!
If you'd like a clue or two:
- Sipper
- Ache preventer
- Protector
- I’ve always felt this way
- That’s just how I roll
- Not kidney, not jelly, not garbanzo
How many did you figure out? In case any of these eyeball benders have you stumped, you can find the answers at the end of last week’s blog post.
Here is a wonderful example of observing details – the poem “Winter Trees” by William Carlos Williams, which starts:
All the complicated details
of the attiring and
the disattiring are completed!
A liquid moon
moves gently among
the long branches.
to read the rest of Winter Trees, please click here.
To see the details observed by others this Poetry Friday, please visit our poetic host Rose at Imagine the Possibilities for this week's roundup.
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- Written by: Tracey Kiff-Judson
- Category: Blog
A couple of weeks ago, my son and I were playing around with our phone cameras trying out various night settings. I think we captured the Milky Way in this picture because there were no clouds out that night.
The Rock Next Door to Mars
Can you hear me?
Can you see me?
Are you out there
‘tween the stars?
I’m here waving,
starlight saving,
on the rock next
door to Mars.
Photo and poem © Z. Judson and T. Kiff-Judson 2023
If you have an Android phone (not sure about Apple) and you download a camera extension app called “Expert RAW.” It has an “Astrophoto” setting that will allow you to take longer-exposure night pictures. We tried it with the August supermoon, but the moon was actually TOO bright and looked like the sun. Happy star gazing!
Please visit the amazing Amy Ludwig Vanderwater at The Poem Farm for more Poetry Friday excitement!
The answers to The Devil's in the Details challenge:
- Looking down into a stemmed glass
- Toothpaste tube
- Metallic bubble wrap
- Felt-tipped markers
- Rolling pin
- Coffee beans
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- Written by: Tracey Kiff-Judson
- Category: Blog
Brace yourself. The following content is a little disgusting. However, decomposers make the world go ‘round!
I am always amazed (and a little revolted) when I come upon this scenario after a rainfall. The roads are damp with yesterday’s rain and littered with the remnants of many slugs who had ill-fated encounters with car tires. Then out come the other slugs to explore the damage and have a bite to eat. I guess in nature, a slug’s job is to do the clean-up work, and they make no exceptions. They take their work gravely.
Cannibal Slug
After the rain,
rolled out flat as a rug,
mashed by a car,
lies a goopy, squashed slug.
Here comes his friend
to console and to hug.
Wait … she …
bites this poor dude
with her own slimy mug!
Who would have thought
she could be such a thug?
Chewing her friend,
ugh – a cannibal slug!
For some happier poetry, please visit Ramona, this week's gracious Poetry Friday host, at Pleasures From the Page.
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- Written by: Tracey Kiff-Judson
- Category: Blog
Poetry Friday has arrived again! This Friday, please visit Linda at TeacherDance for some poignant poetry posts.
My son brought this article to my attention. It discusses the hypothetical question of whether Japan would have surrendered in WWII without the US dropping atomic bombs.
The following image from the article struck me.
[US Air Force Photo, September 2, 1945]
It depicts a Japanese delegation onboard the USS Missouri in Tokyo Bay. They are there to participate in a formal WWII surrender ceremony. We know how WWII ends from US history books. We may even be able to intuit some of the emotions of the US Servicemen in this picture, but what if we also pause momentarily to consider this scenario from the Japanese point of view? Can we fathom the emotions of that stoic group of men?
I Surrender
I come to you in top hat, gloves, and starched collar.
I come to you with dignitaries, generals, and commanders.
I come to you in solemnity, humility, and defeat.
I will surrender.
I will sign your papers and submit to your photographs, but
I will not share with you my rage, my hopelessness, my pain.
Tracey Kiff-Judson, draft © 2023
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- Written by: Tracey Kiff-Judson
- Category: Blog
Poetry Friday! Please visit Molly at Nix the Comfort Zone and enjoy all of the Poetry Friday fun!
It’s that time of year!
When I ride my bike through the woods from mid-July through mid-August, I am fortunate to pass through clouds of fragrant perfume from this flowering bush. I think it may be called Summersweet or Sweet Pepperbush (Google Lens identifies it as clethra alnifolia). It smells wonderful, vaguely of Prell shampoo (for those of you who recall Prell from childhood!).
Summer Sweetness
Licorice, pepper,
gardenia and spice.
What is this flower?
It’s not Edelweiss.
Bumblebees drawn in
by scents that entice.
This is the bloom
that’s become my new vice.
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- Written by: Tracey Kiff-Judson
- Category: Blog
Happy Poetry Friday!
Please visit Tabetha at The Opposite of Indifference for more Poetry Friday goodness and a funny ending.
Last week, I was fortunate to spend a few days with a friend who I haven’t seen in many years. I love that there is always something to talk about with people that you knew growing up. There is so much shared history that you can converse with ease – even if you haven’t seen each other in decades.
Reconnecting
High School Concerns:
making the cut,
whether these jeans look weird,
the Chemistry test.
Today’s Concerns:
our children’s happiness,
whether this mole looks weird,
the Climate test.
Joyful Constants:
your smile crinkles,
shared memories,
the way you say, “This is delightful!”
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- Written by: Tracey Kiff-Judson
- Category: Blog
One week ago, I was in my bedroom reading and enjoying the coolness of evening. My husband was working on a computer backup in the next room. I noticed our dog, Bean, barking in the backyard. I didn’t think much of it. She often finds a squirrel very upsetting, lets out a string of dog profanity, and then goes about her business.
This time, her cursing extended into a full-blown tirade. I heard my husband go outside and call her into the house. A few seconds later, the bedroom door opened, and my husband said, “Do you smell anything on Bean?”
I called her over, put my nose on her head, and inhaled deeply. The stench was so overwhelming that I felt woozy.
My husband said, “I think she might have found a skunk,” and pulled the bedroom door shut.
Bean and I stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment. We silently agreed that the best short-term solution was for me to ignore the problem. She went over to her dog bed and began the work of licking off the skunk spray. (In retrospect, letting her lick skunk spray was probably a horrible idea!) I resumed reading my book. This arrangement worked for approximately forty-five seconds, which coincidentally, is the exact amount of time it takes skunk smell to permeate every fiber of every fabric in a room.
I bolted out of the room and said, “We have to do something! I don’t have any tomato juice, but I can give her a bath in tomato sauce and canned tomatoes.”
My husband and I blinked at each other, our eyes now watering from the smell.
I said, “Maybe we should ask Google if there is a better solution.”
My husband scanned several articles and announced, “Says: tomato juice doesn’t work. We need hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, and dish soap.”
Yes! These are items that we always have on hand. I began rummaging through the closet looking for hydrogen peroxide.
Rubbing alcohol – too strong.
Mineral oil – too oily.
Witch Hazel (circa 1995) – why did I buy this?
Not one drop of peroxide.
Sigh. My husband drove off to the 24-hour drugstore in the next town. Bean and I stared at each other again. I gave her a long lecture that went, “No, no, no skunks. Skunks stink. Pee-ew. Now you stink. Pee-ew. No, no, no skunks.” Bean blinked. She licked her leg as if to say, “Look, I’m working on it.”
Thirty minutes later, with the house now smelling like it belonged to a family of skunks (how does the smell MULTIPLY?), we were armed with three small spray-bottles of hydrogen peroxide (‘cause apparently, “That’s all they had.”). I popped off the spray triggers and dumped the peroxide into a bowl with the required amounts of baking soda and dish soap.
I lathered Bean up and let her sit in the mixture for a minute while my husband removed the covering from her dog bed and stuffed it in the washer. After thoroughly rinsing and toweling down Bean, her stench had indeed decreased by, I would estimate, a solid 3%. Sigh.
The three of us gave up and went to bed stinky. The next morning, we were still stinky. One week later ... still stinky.
For this Poetry Friday, a handy recipe and a mini ode:
Skunk Stink Remover
- 1 quart of hydrogen peroxide
- ¼ c baking soda
- 1 t dish soap
Mix ingredients in a bowl. Pour over dog and scrub thoroughly. Rinse. Notice no difference. Wash dog with shampoo. Notice the smell of skunk paired with the smell of shampoo. Wash everything in the house that the dog has even stood near, including bed linens, curtains, and the clothes that you are wearing. Open every window in the house. Wait one week, maybe two. You should notice some improvement.
Mini Ode to a Skunk
I sense your presence all throughout the day.
Your fragrance flits upon the evening air.
I drift to sleep and dream about the way,
You dwell within my clothes, my home, my hair.
To get your Poetry Friday fix, visit Jan Godown Annino's blog BookSeedStudio for Jan's planted words, a dragonfly, and this week’s roundup!