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Life on the Deckle Edge

Poetry Friday - Seth & Holy Chaos

Seth blessing the animals at Haywood Street Congregation, October 2022.

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers - I've missed you! The past several weeks have found me criss-crossing South Carolina as we've just moved from Beaufort on the coast to Travelers Rest in the mountains. My husband Jeff moved on ahead to start a new job, while I stayed on in a temporary apartment getting our house there sold and waiting for a basement renovation here to finish up.  To the usual moving stresses, and my sadness at saying goodbye to a place I dearly loved, we had an awful shock last week.  Our wee doggie Rita fell suddenly and critically ill, and she spent a week in and out of the emergency vet near Beaufort. On last Tuesday afternoon, the day before I moved on Wednesday, I had to have her put down in my arms.  My heart is still shattered. 

 

But life brings us joys as well as sorrows.  Now we are closer to our kids and are celebrating Seth's birthday this weekend. Since today (Friday) is his actual birthday, I'm offering up something a little different.  Seth is one of the pastors at Haywood Street Congregation, a church ministry in downtown Asheville, NC.  He was their first intern in 2017-18.  After graduating from seminary at Candler (Emory), he joined the Haywood Street staff in the fall of 2021.  It's unique place - self-described as "holy chaos." With a heart for those experiencing homelessness and anyone who feels they have no place at the table, Haywood offers a place at the table.  Literally.  Whether it's a dining table with nice linens and homecooked meals, or the Communion table during a service, everyone is welcome.  

 

Since Jeff and I are now less than an hour away from Asheville, we'll be able to visit Seth and girlfriend Ginnie more often.  [And we're just two hours away from Morgan and Matt and Baby Sawyer in North Georgia. ] A few weeks ago we got to hear Seth preach - always special for us - and I felt compelled to write about the service, for no particular reason.  No two services are ever the same at Haywood Street! I'm sharing that reflection below, if you are interested.  If you're just here for poetry, that's fine too!

 

Here are two haiku I wrote when visiting Seth during his internship year years ago, followed by my recent thoughts.

 

 

 

bus stop
the hard places
where she sleeps

 

 

bottle rockets, No. 38, Feb. 2018

 

-------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

empty street -
she stoops to pocket
a half-cigarette


Acorn, No. 39, Fall 2017

 

 

poems ©Robyn Hood Black

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

To Holy Chaos

 

by Robyn Hood Black – reflections on Feb. 26, 2023

 

It's a crisp February Sunday morning, no rain, in downtown Asheville.

 

Outside the sanctuary of Haywood Street Congregation, people do congregate. Many have come for Sunday's Welcome Table breakfast downstairs, delicious food prepared with love and served on real plates, on real tablecloths, with real meal-time conversations.  Fresh flowers, too.

 

Around the grounds and in the garden, small groups huddle. Some people have bedrolls and backpacks; most have lines in their faces belying their age. There is quiet talk, and colorful language, and the jolt of a glass jar breaking on concrete. Always, a few folks sleep here and there and everywhere.

 

This morning, a table is set up offering immunizations for pets.  Dogs are regulars at Haywood Street, and today they receive some extra TLC.

 

Inside, a few dozen people await the start of the service. The magnificent fresco is a call to worship, its colors echoed in tall stained glass windows - and in the diversity of the congregation. The space is not overly large but big enough, simple but with handcrafted touches whispering, All Are Welcome Here.

 

Jody invites anyone interested to come up to be "the choir" and help lead the opening songs.  A few people join without hesitation.  At the piano is a beautiful young trans woman, playing with heart and flourish and abundant talent.

 

Later in the service, that piano will feel the touch of a diminutive fair-skinned, white-haired 85-year-old woman, as she shares one of her favorite traditional hymns. That music, too, moves everyone hearing it.

 

Today's announcements include one about the award-winning 2021 documentary on the fresco, Theirs is the Kingdom, and about a new group to meet weekly in support of anyone at any stage in their addiction journey.

 

To say that Haywood Street's services are interactive would be an understatement.  In the "Blessings and Testimonials" time, anyone is invited to share – a spontaneous song, a personal story, some quiet yearning in a heart that needs expression. Today a young woman sings a contemporary Christian song, followed by a man who often shares his vocal talents. Microphones aren't needed here.

 

Speakers are open and vulnerable, sharing raw hardships as well as sublime blessings.  There are health concerns mentioned in addition to gratitude that a trailer has become available for one of the singers. A lively discussion bubbles up as well, with a few women sharing how they personally hear God.  Differing views are respected in an invisible web of trust. 

 

Sermons are dialogical, too, and are called "conversational homilies." Today, after our older piano player volunteers to read verses from Matthew following the church calendar, Seth preaches about Jesus's need to be by himself.  For starters, his baptism was followed by 40 days in the wilderness.  Quiet time alone is not always easy, as the temptation narratives illustrate.

 

Jesus sought out solitude amidst the demands of his unfolding calling, his heavy understanding of who he was and was becoming.  Seth preaches about the necessity of self-care, which can take many forms. His words resonate with many in the pews in the form of nods and words of agreement. 

 

True to Haywood Street's motto of "Holy Chaos," the service is peppered with an occasional surprise.  A couple of times, a smiling young man with flapping clothes walks at a fast clip up the center aisle, and out the back of the sanctuary toward the offices.  He is high on something, and waves to a few folks each time, and even to the fresco.

 

At another moment, Jody opens the door to the narthex for someone.  This happens to occur at the exact time that a cat from the animal table, brought inside because it kept trying to get away, receives its shot – and a hearty, screechy yowl permeates the service.

 

After the sermon, needs are shared and updates given on situations calling for prayer.  Anyone who wants to speak is heard and affirmed by the lovely and spunky woman guiding this response time.  After every contribution, folks shake a little ring of bells left on the pews or their car keys or otherwise join in to support each need.

 

The offering comes in the form of music and a volunteer holding a basket up front.  Attendees are welcome to give but also appreciated if they would like to give but aren't in a position to. Communion follows, with one volunteer holding a bowl of pieces of homemade bread, and another holding a cup of juice to dip it in.  Anyone may partake.

 

Today the service closes with a song, "Blessed Quietness," reflecting the morning's theme. During this last hymn, a man who was stretched out on a pew wakes up and looks around.  Even though the elements of this service and the homily will be repeated on Wednesday, it will not be the same.  This is Haywood Street, and no two days are ever alike.

 

This holy chaos might not be for everyone, but it's absolutely for anyone.

 

###

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Seth!

 

If you've made it this far in my post and need to find the Poetry Friday Roundup, go "Imagine the Possibilities" with our lovely Rose. And to learn more about Haywood Street Congregation, click here

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Poetry Friday - To my Dear and Loving Husband by Anne Bradstreet

Depiction of Anne Bradstreet by Edmund H. Garrett (19th Century).

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  As we lean towards celebrating LOVE for Valentine's Day next week, I thought we might hear some words from a few centuries ago in New England, long before the United States was a country.  This one's for you, Husband-of-Mine...

 

To My Dear and Loving Husband

by Anne Bradstreet (1612-72)

 

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were loved by wife, then thee;
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me ye women if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold,
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompense.
Thy love is such I can no way repay;
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let's so persever,
That when we live no more we may live ever.

 

You can learn more about Anne Bradstreet here.  She was the first poet to be published in colonial North America, an impressive accomplishment, especially for a woman in the 1600s!

 

Valentine's Day is not an easy day for many - extra love to those for whom it's difficult or bittersweet.

 

The amazing Carol, who LOVES words and images, not to mention her beautiful family - has our Roundup this week at Beyond Literacy Week

*Note* - Life here is still crazy with a multi-part move in progress; I'll be in and out of town the next two weekends, then back in Beaufort for a week or so, and then making the final move to catch up with the aforementioned husband over in the mountains in mid-March! I'll get back into the swing of weekly posting again as soon as possible. :0) 

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Poetry Friday - Haiku in bottle rockets and a big birthday...

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers! Happy February...

 

Last Friday I was on the road back and forth (again!) to our Upstate SC house, where we are moving permanently in coming weeks. Though life has been chaos for many weeks (Okay, months...) somehow my hubby pulled off a surprise party on Saturday for my 60th birthday (on Monday).  I knew my kids would be visiting, but I didn't know that several dear friends who live in that general region - plus our contactors who are making our basement into a magical living/working space there - would be showing up for lunch & cake! What a treat, and getting to share the surprise and celebration with the  Baby Grand - who enjoyed my gift of a wonderful old Remington typewriter - made it even more special. 

 

Another fun surprise was the new issue of bottle rockets which came a little early, ahead of upcoming postal rate hikes.  Honored to have a poem in it, which kinda relates to this whole getting older thing.  [I'm grateful for every birthday, and I loved what one friend commented on Facebook:  "Welcome to the next level." Ha!]  

 

Also, I suppose this haiku relates to moving as well, as I remember composing it during a gentle rain here in the Lowcountry.  I will miss this place.

 

just beyond

memory's reach

soft rain in the woods

 

 

©Robyn Hood Black

bottle rockets, #48, February 2023

 

 

Many thanks to the oh-so-talented Laura for hosting us all this week, and for filling February with poetry all month long....

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Poetry Friday - Moving Boxes ....

Quick (huff)  Greetings (puff) from the Land of Perpetual Movers...  The low-down:  We're getting there, whirlwinds and all.  Got moved into a temporary apartment (still in Beaufort) so we could get our house here decluttered and listed to sell.  Met with the realtors Wednesday and are optimistic - almost 1000 views on Zillow in the first day (& seven showings).  Beaufort is still a pretty hot market; I wanted to list our downtown cottage while the inventory is so low right now! 

 

Still making several quick and crazy across-the-state trips taking things to our Upstate abode, and popping in on the basement renovation there. More than once I've woken up in the middle of the night and looked around in the dimness wondering, where am I?  What city?  What room?! 

 

My hubby Jeff will be starting his new job at the end of February, and I'll follow with movers and what's left of our stuff in mid-March after the reno is all done.  We're both feeling aches in muscles we didn't know we had, but we are deeply grateful for these adventures and for having a safe place to rest our heads at night, especially in winter.

 

I've been to Staples and Lowe's a thousand times in recent weeks.  Here's a little ditty of an ode about those handy kraft cardboard wonders by Bankers Box®.

 

 

 

Bankers Boxes

 

 

Tear off the lid,

 

set aside.

 

Un-flatten the rest and peer inside.

 

Push (1) on through,

 

then (2) and (3)

 

Pull (1) back down - 

 

Oh - now I see....

 

A krafty rectangle in three dimensions

 

ready for all your packing intentions.

 

Wait!  The lid - fold the edges and notch.

 

Match the handle slots; ignore your watch,

 

because

 

Moving. 

 

     Takes. 

 

        Forever....

 

©Robyn Hood Black

 

 

While the smooth cardboard of dozens and dozens of moving boxes might seem monotonous, our friend and my Winter Poem Swap partner Patricia has just returned home to the desert and is thinking about the NEVERMORES group's prompt, texture. And she graciously included my Poem Swap poem and gifties to her, which arrived before Christmas but AFTER she left for her trip.  (Sorry, Patricia!) Here's her post. 

 

Marcie is kindly hosting the Roundup this week here

 

Wishing you smooth moves, whether from one home to another this year or just from your computer to the kettle to make a cuppa tea!

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Poetry Friday - My PERFECT Poem Swap Gifts from Patricia J. Franz

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!

 

I received the most wonderful gift in the mail yesterday – my poem swap goodies from this year's swap partner, Patricia J. Franz.  (The Winter Poem Swap is organized by the amazing Tabatha Yeatts, whose blog is here.  You can learn more about Patricia here.)

 

Full disclosure – I am so overextended this year that I JUST mailed Patricia her poem and gifties from me yesterday, too. (Insert face-slap emoji here.) No excuses, but an explanation – I/we recently made a crazy decision to put our house on the market sooner rather than later, so we are temporarily moving to an apartment here next week. That way, we can show the house without all – cough-cough – my, um, artistic piles o' stuff, and without having to manage a wee doggie, etc., etc.  Also, if it sells quickly as we hope, then we'll have a place to live while Jeff finishes his job here before starting his new one in the Upstate. I mean, moving is so easy and fun that everyone should do it twice for each move, right? 

 

So it was an especially perfect treat to open Patricia's package and slow down and savor her gifts.  She included some beautiful, fancy sticky notes – how could she know I LIVE by sticky notes?! – and the most charming tiny replica music box that plays "Hey Jude" when you turn its handle.  She explained in her lovely note that the song came to her while working on my poem, and then she said, "the universe made a house call, as I found this in the gift shop at the Whitney Museum in NYC."  I was floored!  How special, and you bet it will have an honored place in my new studio (being formed as we speak in a basement renovation at our Upstate house that we'll move to in a couple-few months.)

 

As for the poem Patricia sent, I was moved to tears upon reading it.  First, she tackled a ghazal, though she added, "Truth be told, I'm certain this is not a true ghazal!  In my  mind, I was channeling your artful spirit – letting the poetic form become what it needed to contain the words."

 

You see, she wrote a poem about… artsyletters! No one has ever written a poem about my art endeavors before, not even me.  Talk about affirmation, and with my favorite kind of writing – poetry!

Not to mention that the presentation – printed to look it's on faded, foxed, glorious old paper, and with some of my items – absolutely speaks my aesthetic language.  What a gift, and to think we've never met in person before.  But that's the magic of Poetry Friday, isn't it?

 

I'm beyond delighted to share:

 

 

artsyletters:  a  ghazal

 

what sound speaks?  What reaches your ear?

asking to be transformed – the trinket, the trifle

 

finger a curl of your hair, pause to hear

art unaware, setting free the trinket, the trifle

will you be jeweled? Beheld by a book?

re-membered eternal, no trinket or trifle

 

work of your hands, heart's possibility

becomes twinkle delightful – the trinket, the trifle

 

©Patricia J. Franz

 

This was just what I needed but didn't know I needed, grounding my art adventures as I'm trying to keep them all together during this bit of transition and chaos.  I'm so excited to hang up this poem in my studio space when it's finished, a heart-sent gift from a poet friend. It's just perfect as I reflect on this 10th anniversary year of starting my art business and Etsy shop and anticipating its landing, finally, in a perfect and personal home space.  Thank you, Patricia!

 

The perfect place for poetry today is with Karen Edmisten, who is rounding up Poetry Friday this week.  Thank you, Karen! And Happy Holiday blessings to all; I'll be taking a wee break as we work on the move stuff and also travel - multiple times - to see family over a stretched-out holiday season.  Extra prayers for those missing loved ones this season, and those who don't have homes to move to or from this winter. See you in January!

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Poetry Friday - Emily Dickinson's "Winter is Good"

New ornament featuring a vintage Emily Dickinson postage stamp- listing is here in my Etsy shop! (I have William Shakespeare, too. ;0) )

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  I hope you had a good Thanksgiving weekend last week, wherever you were.  Prayers for all with an empty chair at the holidays this year.

 

Over here  on the South Carolina Coast, Friday morning temps will be in the 40s, which is chilly for us. (Then we'll warm back up.)  But pictures of growing piles of snow from the Northwest to the Plains are something else altogether, like the pictures posted online recently by our own Amy Ludwig VanDerwater up in New York state. 

 

So here's a little poem by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) for the new season.  (Love the last line... we were happy to say goodbye to the hurricane season, by the way, on Wednesday!)

 

 

Winter is good - his Hoar Delights (1316)


Emily Dickinson 

Winter is good - his Hoar Delights
Italic flavor yield -
To Intellects inebriate
With Summer, or the World -

Generic as a Quarry
And hearty - as a Rose -
Invited with asperity
But welcome when he goes.

 

Happy December! 

 

Grab your snowshoes and shuffle on over to see our lovely Catherine at Reading to the Core for this week's Roundup!

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Poetry Friday - Vowel Poetry Fun from Jonathan Swift & artsyletters

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!

 

The poem I'm sharing this week is an offering of levity, with so much going on in the world this month.  From a 19th-Century copy of CROWN JEWELS (or Gems of Literature, Art, and Music ...) compiled by Henry Davenport Norhtrop and published by Pennsylvania Publishing Company in 1887, I plucked this wee riddle poem by Jonathan Swift (1667-1745), then gave it the artsyletters mini collage treatment.

 

On the Vowels

 

by Jonathan Swift

 

We are little airy creatures,

All of different voice and features:

One of us in glass is set,

One of us you'll find in jet;

T'other you may see in tin,

And the fourth a box within;

If the fifth you should pursue,

It can never fly from you.

 

I thought those "little airy creatures" would pair well with some old lace! Though the blocky midcentury brass letters are anything but airy, I suppose - so here's to a little contrast!

 

If you are hungry for more vowels, and consonants, then of COURSE you must make your way to Jama's Alphabet Soup, where our beautiful & talented letter-wrangling host has this week's Roundup! 

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Poetry Friday - Melissa Whiteford St. Clair - DAR Award

Melissa Whiteford St. Clair and her winning photograph.

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  I'm happy to introduce you to a person and a poem on this Veterans Day.  Last weekend I was walking downtown and heard my name called from across the street.  A familiar face and friendly wave were just outside the Beaufort Art Association gallery. I was trying to sort it out; it looked like Melissa St. Clair, but wasn't she in a different part of the state now?  She and her husband had attended the same church as Jeff and I, though we haven't been many times since the pandemic.  That, plus their move, is probably why I didn't know about the interesting things she's been up to in the last couple of years.

 

Melissa was in town because last year, she had the winning photo in a contest, and it is on display at the art association gallery for the month of November.  Her photo of the Beaufort National Cemetery with Wreaths Across America was selected by the South Carolina Society of the National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) "Rise and Shine: What American Means To Me" Committee. Entries could include a caption or a short paragraph up to 100 words and were judged on interpretation of theme, creativity, and overall impression by a panel of two DAR Members and one non-DAR Member.

 

Here is the accompanying poem:

 

   What America Means to Me

 

Democracy

Hypocrisy

Boiling Points

Melting Pot

 

Juxtapositions

Traditions

Assimilate

Don't Congregate

Unity 

Impunity

 

Unrest

Blessed

Dressing graves

Heroes n'er forget

 

©Melissa Whiteford St. Clair

 

 

Sponsored by the Thomas Heyward Jr. Chapter in Beaufort, SC, St. Clair was presented with the award certificate by Mrs. Gail LaGrone Newton, State Americanism Chair and current President of the Beaufort [SC] Chapter at the 2022 SC DAR State Conference.

 

"I am honored to share this photograph and companion poem display with patrons of the Beaufort Art Association Gallery, especially during the month of November when we set aside a day, Veterans Day, to thank our active duty and retired servicemembers and leading up to the annual Wreaths Across America Day in December," she said. The full press release about the award can be found here

Melissa is no stranger to a life of service.  She married her high school sweetheart, who joined the military.  They traveled the next 30 years wherever the US Marine Corps sent them.

 

I discovered that in addition to making an appearance at the gallery for our November First Friday celebration, Melissa also attended a poetry workshop at the Pat Conroy Literary Center while she was in the neighborhood. She published a collection of poetry last year called WHITE GIRL HOMEWORK.  (You can find it on Amazon here.) I had no idea! 

 

She explains that the rise of social injustic in the United States deeply affected her emotionally, and she began a journey that led her to found White Girl Advocacy, LLC.  (Click here to learn more.) The organization's purpose is to "share history lessons plus creative arts for white women who want to be better friends, neighbors, colleagues, and community-builders - better humans."  She launched her chapbook, the full title of which is White Girl Home Work A Collection of Poems Sparked by One White Woman's Journey on the Matter of Race, on Harriet Tubman Day, March 10, in 2021.

 

Many thanks to Melissa for sharing her work with us today!  

 

The talented and wonderful Buffy Silverman has our Roundup this week; enjoy all the offerings.  And thank a veteran! 

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Poetry Friday - Recent Haiku

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  I've missed everyone the last week or two as I was traveling for my annual (completely crazy) week of author school visits as part of Cobb EMC and Gas South Literacy Week north of Atlanta.  Always great to catch up with folks there, and the dozen or more of us authors end up seeing between 20,000 and 30,000 kids in those five days.  I had 22 presentations between Monday and Friday.  Whew! But thrilled to share the poetry love. 

 

Today I'm sharing a couple of recently published haiku.  I couldn't help featuring the adorable picture of my daughter, Morgan, and their precious little one, Sawyer. He made an awfully cute pumpkin for Halloween. The first poem was written when I was with them this summer, helping out during his first month.

 

 

 

new mother's whisper

the strength

of spidersilk

 

Frogpond, Vol. 45:3, Autumn 2022

 

 

 

And this one, well - I guess it speaks for itself. 

 

 

resurrection fern

my long list

of shortcomings

 

bottle rockets #47, Vol. 20, No. 1 (August 2022)

 

 

Poems ©Robyn Hood Black.  All rights reserved.

 

 

I hope your November is off to a good start.  The ever-amazing Heidi at My Juicy Little Universe is hosting Poetry Friday this week. Thank you, Heidi!

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Poetry Friday - Haiku Stones in an Alabama Japanese Garden

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers! A fun way to enjoy haiku today....

 

Over at Monte Sano State Park in Huntsville, Alabama, visitors to the Japanese Garden can now meander down a haiku path consisting of 24 haiku stones.  These feature poems mostly by contemporary haiku poets, with a couple of Basho stones and an Issa offering in the collection. The new path was launched at the Autumn Japan celebration at the beginning of this month.

 

The creative force behind the Haiku Path is Terri L. French, award-winning haiku poet extraordinaire who has also shared her leadership skills in the Haiku Society of America and The Haiku Foundation, as well as editorially in journals and in her own varied publishing endeavors.  (Learn more about Terri here.)  Also sharing time and talents for this beautiful adventure has been fellow fine poet Peggy Bilbro. (Click here for a lovely haibun of Peggy's and a brief bio.)

 

"The haiku were chosen to fit the aesthetics of the garden and the area," explains Terri. "They were placed in the ground on a path that goes behind and around the tea house."

 

Terri and Peggy chose the haiku.

 

"Redstone Federal Credit Union sponsored us and paid for all of the stones to be made by local artist, Zan Edmonds,"  Terri says.  "If we get more money, we may add more stones later."

 

You can click the photo above to see the Facebook post Terri shared, with more pictures of the festival and a few more of the stones.  

 

I'm thrilled that one of my poems was accepted for the path.

 

 

open gate

the way

my mind wanders

 

 

©Robyn Hood Black

First published in Frogpond, Vol. 41:3, Fall 2018

 

If your mind wants to wander myriad poetry paths today, head on over to see Matt Forrest Essenwine, who always has lots going on and has our Roundup this week!  Also, remember to check in on Bridget's "10.10 Poetry Anthology First Anniversary Poet Palooza" at Wee Words for Wee Ones, where you can enjoy daily bite-size introductions to many of the poets!  I'm honored to be included next week.  [NOTE: My blog will be taking a mini-Fall-break as I soon travel to North Georgia for my annual week of school author visits as part of Cobb County EMC-Gas South's Literacy Week, and as I get artsyletters geared up for the holiday craziness that usually ensues right after October!  See you back here in a couple of weeks.)

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