Showing posts with label Peggy Goetz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peggy Goetz. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Wednesdays with Peggy


It's in the Eyes

 This week I want you to write about eyes.






What do you see when you look in someone's eyes?  There are many things to be seen in eyes. Sometimes joy, pain, love, hate, acceptance, sadness, anger, mischief, innocence, evil or even blankness.

As an added twist, try to keep your poem to 75 words or less.

Thank you all for the opportunity to participate in the Pond. This will be my last prompt for now as I find my life is amazingly full these days. I will continue to come by the Pond as I can and check out what you are all writing.

And I will check out everything posted in response to this prompt!! So please post your "eyes" poems with Mr. Linky below. Write on you talented Toads!

Love, Peggy Goetz



Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Wednesday with Peggy

Hi Toads,

Peggy in Southern California here. Today I present two photos as prompts.  Write to either one or both. I will not say much about the photos so that you can let your minds go where ever you want to go.

Photo by Peggy Goetz



Photo by Peggy Goetz


Once you have written and posted your new poem on your blog, link it below with Mr. Linky. I look forward to reading what you all come up with.





Tuesday, July 16, 2013

A Toad's Favo(u)rite: The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner


Peggy Goetz here to share a poem with you all. I have so enjoyed learning about poetry from all of you!

Picking my favorite anything has always been a problem for me so I get around that by saying “one of my favorites.” Also I am not sure it is really a favorite as much as one that had an impact on me.

My history with poetry is rather thin compared to many. From my early years I remember my parents reading “A Child’s Garden of Verses” with the counterpane and the birdie with the yellow bill. Later I recall my dad liking to give dramatic readings to us (a captive audience) of poems like “The Ancient Mariner,” “Under the Spreading Chestnut Tree,” and “The Raven.”

I don’t recall any of my teachers being brave enough to try to teach us poetry even through high school.

My first year at university, however, I took a class called 20th Century Poetry. And it was the first time poetry really made an impression on me. I still found it all rather mysterious, but I did get a glimpse nonetheless.

(If you had told me then I might ever write poetry of any kind, I would have laughed at you. But that was long ago now.)

There are several poems from that time that somehow stuck with me. Since someone else will probably pick “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost and ee cummings might seem obvious, I will share the first poem that I remember having a heavy meaning that made a strong impression on me.

It is short, which I like. It is also stark and unflinching. 
  
The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

                                                                                                                           See more HERE

The poem was published in 1945 and is about the death of a gunner on a World War II American bomber.

Jarrell gave this explanation, according to Wikipedia:
"A ball turret was a Plexiglas sphere set into the belly of a B-17 or B-24, and inhabited by two .50 caliber machine guns and one man, a short small man. When this gunner tracked with his machine guns a fighter attacking his bomber from below, he revolved with the turret; hunched upsidedown in his little sphere. The fighters which attacked him were armed with cannon firing explosive shells. The hose was a steam hose."
Reviewers at the time called the theme of the the poem a condemnation of the dehumanizing power of the State, graphically illustrated by the violence of war. 

The poem makes a clear, strong statement despite its brevity.  It is not one I would want to hang on my living room wall or recite for the beauty of its language, but it is one of the poems that had a strong impact on my young mind.


Thursday, July 4, 2013

Collaboration with Peggy and Ella

Peggy and I share a love of the arts: poetry and photography. Peggy also paints and I used to. After seeing Peggy's work I am tempted to try again. I do mainly mixed media. For our challenge I took Peggy's art and one of mine and blurred the lines. We thought it would inspire an intriguing poetry.


Peggy painted Morro Rock, which sits on the coast of Central California. It was formed 23 million years ago the hardened lava plug of a now long-gone volcano. It is one of a string of such plugs called the Nine Sisters. Several seas birds as well as peregrine falcons next on its rocky crown.  Visitors are not allowed to climb the rock, but two California Indian tribes are allowed to climb it for sacred ceremonies.  The rock has been a sacred place for these tribes since before the arrival of the Spanish.

My art represents a woman as a spiritual guide. So we combined the rock and Native American influence to bring our poem to life.

Spirit of the Rock

Fiery forces in for ancient youth
molten mountain mover
now cold and silent,
what eons' stories you could tell.

Eldest of nine sisters in a spirit chain,
Morro remembers
ceremony of our dance
stopped by Thunderbird.

Eternal flame hidden by 
thick rolling gray cloud cloak,
winged serpent's flaming beak appears
White Owl Woman warned
Mother Sky and Father Sun
our birth may be early.

Liquid fingers hold every sinew
orange and scarlet ripple
pulsating fears
as shadows roll
darkness appears.

Mother's crown of stars tilted
Father lulls and soothes her
White Owl Woman
cuts blazing vision with
opaque eyes.

Mother pants and groans
our births hover and breathe out
black smoke
until we erupt.
Mother's salty tears flow
Father fetches white cap.

This morning on Father's glassy bay
otters, sailboats, falcons cry and play.
On your starry crown I 
see your wrinkles and crevices
seeming as if they have always been
and always will be.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

About Face

Peggy Goetz here with a new effort to provide a prompt for fellow Toads and visitors every five weeks.  I decided to focus on faces for my column called About Face.

I will feature my own photos in this column and you are welcome to copy them into your own blogs as you use them for poetic inspiration. Please include the copyright information.



© Peggy Goetz


There is a lot in a face, lots of story, lots of feelings. Sometimes we can see the future in a face. We can see expectation, doubt or fear. 


© Peggy Goetz




© Peggy Goetz


Also there can be history in a face. What has this person seen in his or her life? What pride or regrets are in this face?


© Peggy Goetz



We can see fortune and misfortune in a face, circumstance and genetics as well.

This week take a look at these faces. Think about who they might belong to and what they might be thinking or what they may have experienced or felt.  Don't worry about who they might really be or where they are from. Just use your eyes and your imagination and write on!

Use Mr. Linky to link up your new effort here so the rest of us can see what you did!

Peggy Goetz
Blogging at ON A DAY LIKE TODAY



Saturday, April 6, 2013

Going Outside


Yosemite Valley, California, the Great Outside, outside of cities, out sideordinary life,
definitely outside.
 Photo by Peggy Goetz



Hi Toads and friends, this is Peggy Goetz and I am honored to be asked to provide a prompt today.

Getting right to the point, write about outside. 

Outside of what? You decide as there are many ways this word can be applied, but basically outside implies the existence of inside.

You can write about the differences between the outside and the inside or about how you feel about being outside. You can be outside yourself, outside a group, outside your back door, outside the box or outside most anything.

So let your mind go and I look forward to seeing what you have to say about outside.




Big Sur, California. Photo by Peggy Goetz

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

December Sun

Greetings fellow Toads! I am lolamouse, and I had the pleasure of writing with Peggy Goetz for our In Tandem post.  We decided to play a game of Haikai, which is a form of Japanese collaborative poetry.  Haikai is a creative group activity that can be played with any number of people, either live and in-person or, as in our case, via e- mails over a period of time.

A Haikai poem may contain any number of verses, but it is written in alternating three- and two-line verses.  The three-line verses may have up to 17 syllables, and the two-line verses up to 14. Additionally, there are some "rules" that should followed:

1. The first writer (three-line verse) should make a reference to the current season and surroundings. This may be direct (winter) or indirect (snow). Remember, no more than 17 syllables total.

2. The next person should write something to suggest the same season as the first verse. It should link to the first verse, but shift away from it a bit as well. After the first verse, everything is fictional. No more than 14 syllables in the two-line verses.

3. The third writer (or back to the first if there are only two) should write a three-line verse that links to the second verse but also shifts away from the first verse in meaning somewhat.

4. Continue alternating two- and three-line verses. Every few verses, a season should be mentioned. The idea is to link to the preceding verse while shifting away from the one before that. A feeling of change is conveyed by linking and shifting.

5. It is also suggested to include the following:
  • all four seasons
  • the moon
  • a flower
  • love (in two adjacent verses)
6. Haikai start with three-line stanzas and end with two-line stanzas. Participants may vary their writing order so that each may write long and short verses.

7. End on an upbeat note.

Easy enough, right? Actually, it's not that difficult once you get started. Below is my and Peggy's attempt at Haikai. You can read it and see if we followed all of the rules!


photo source

December sun
peeks through gray smiling
for late roses damp with dew

Petals of faded velvet
recall their glory days

She stands at the window
remembering, sighs
as soup pot boils over

Red cardinal alights
upon rusted sled

Scarlet melody wakes
summer memories
lovers walk entwined

Hearts naked dancing
with electric hunger

Fingertips buzzing
Each touch a playful sting,
kindling sleeping skin

August blaze lingers as owl
moon lights dark eastern sky

Silent, wolf moon stalks
owl among stars 
Plaintive howls in the snow

Soon pups will play in spring bright
dales as all begins again.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Interview with Mary Mansfield of Write Wing Conspiracy


The storied Route 66 passes near the town where Mary lives, Odell, Illinois.
    


 Here I am, Peggy Goetz, very late with my interview of fellow poet and contributor, Mary Mansfield. I loved getting to know more about her life and interests. She has loved writing since she was a young girl and blossomed onto the poetry blogosphere several years ago. Her poetry blog can be found here Write Wing Conspiracy (Write Wing Conspiracy: Plotting World Domination One Poem at a Time).

She is one of the prompt contributors at Poetry Jam. Take a look at the Halloween haunt photos of her yard she posted with her monsters prompt October 9.

Although I find we do get to know about each other by reading our poetry, it is fun to find out a bit about the background and everyday life of our fellow Real Toads. So lets get to the interview.


Peggy Goetz: Thank you so much for sharing with me, Mary. Where and when did you grow up and where do you live now?

Mary Mansfield: I grew up in here in central Illinois in a town very typical of most small towns…football games, hanging at the swimming pool, going to the stock car races on Saturday nights.  Thankfully growing up in the late 70’s/early 80’s made for a quiet childhood, not a whole lot of danger lurking about on our streets in those days.

Today I still live in the same rural county, just 20 miles away, in another very typical small town, Odell, that happens to sit alongside Route 66, which makes for some very cool sites when the summer cruises roll through town.

Peggy: Tell me about your family.   

Mary: My husband Wes and I have been married for 15 years. My eleven year daughter, Emmy, is truly the light of my world.  Great kid, very kind-hearted, extremely smart, wickedly funny.  She plays basketball and ran in her first all-school election this year for student council secretary, which she won, beating three older kids.  She does take after me, quite the little bookworm and a budding writer as well. We also have 4 cats and a neurotic miniature pinscher named Cheech making their home with us.

Mary's daughter, Emmy, in a quiet moment.


Peggy: When did you start writing poetry?

Mary: I got started writing poetry in high school after signing up for a creative writing class.  I’d always enjoyed writing short stories and such for different classroom assignments, but in that class I discovered I had a talent for it.

And I have been writing ever since. I do enjoy writing - most days at any rate, but I suppose that was pretty obvious

  
Peggy: What else do you enjoy doing? I know you can sing well, do you do that much?  Are you involved in your community?

Mary: Well, let’s see, I'm a huge NASCAR fan and try to watch every race I can.  We put up a good-sized haunted yard display for Halloween, so that’s taking up a whole lot of time at the moment.  
    
I don't sing nearly as often as I'd like, even with the husband starting his own karaoke business most of my singing is directed at the steering wheel while I’m running errands.  I've been reading Tarot for almost twenty years now as well.

Peggy: Let's first go back to your earlier life. Tell me something about your family growing up. 

Mary: I grew up with my mom, dad, and younger sister.  We never had a whole lot of money, but thankfully my mom found the perfect way to keep us occupied…the library.  I was definitely a bookworm as a kid, it was nothing to read my way through a dozen books a week, every week.  Reading was such a great way to expand my horizons and dream of something more.

Peggy: What do you remember about your school years and what did you enjoy? How big were your schools in elementary and high school? (since you said you lived in a small town) Did you go on to college?

Mary: Do you remember that one annoying kid in every class who always knew every answer and completely wrecked the grading curve on every test?  That was me, for sure.  School was something that came very easily for me, something I truly enjoyed.

Both my elementary and high schools were on the small side, right around 100 kids per grade.  Just small enough to make sure you knew all your classmates but large enough to offer a variety of extra curricular activities.  I was in choir, band (played alto saxophone), worked on the yearbook one year, competed on the speech team, always something to keep me busy.

I never did make it to college.  My financial aid package fell apart on me right before classes were ready to start, and I ended up married to my first husband less than a year after high school graduation.  I’ve thought about it a few times over the years, but I’m not sure the timing has been right.

Peggy: You live in a place where the seasons are dramatically different from each other. What is your favorite season and what do you like about it? Do you really dislike any particular time of year? 

Mary: Winter has to be my favorite time of the year.  Sure, shoveling snow and scraping windows really stink, but I love the shimmer of sunlight on the snow, the brilliant blue of a December sky, a simmering pot of chili on the stove, snuggling under a nice thick comforter.  

Summertime, on the other hand, I can definitely do without.  I find that as I’ve gotten older my tolerance for hot weather has all but disappeared.  Once that mercury starts rising I can generally be found hovering around the nearest air conditioner.


The land where Mary lives is mostly agricultural but also has wind farms.



Peggy: I know you are a full-time mom now. What were your work years like? What did you like about working?

Mary: I've been at home full-time for the last six years, not by choice.   Since having Emmy I've been plagued with chronic back pain. and it finally progressed to the point where I could no longer work at restaurant management.  I still have my good and bad days, although those good days seem to becoming more and more infrequently.

Restaurant management is hectic and tiring. And unpredictable, no two days were ever the same.  But I do miss it.  Watching those customers come through the doors every day gives you a great glimpse into a wide variety of lives, some of the best people-watching you can find.

Peggy: How did you get into the world of blogging poetry? Does your family read your blogs?  

Mary: I think blogging for me came about mostly as a way of answering that call every writer seems to hear at some point to share our work with the world. I've made a few false starts in that area, leaving a several abandoned blogs floating around the internet dying of neglect, but I think I've finally found the determination to keep pressing forward.

I’m a complete coward when it comes to submitting for publication or contests, and putting my poetry up on a blog seemed to be much less risky.  It also gives me complete control over how the material is presented, which seems to fit my perfectionist side very well.

Much of my family does read my blog.  My husband claims to read everything I post, and I know he has shared many of my poems on his Facebook.  For the most part, the family is pretty supportive with my blog, just maybe not so understanding at times with the time I need to put into my writing.

Peggy: Is there anything that especially brings you joy?  Is there anything that makes you sad?

Mary: Now that’s a good question.  Several years ago I started on a challenge to make a list of 100 things that make me happy…not because I thought they were cool or expected of me, but because they truly give me joy.  I ended up abandoning the challenge somewhere in the mid-sixties, but it really made me stop and appreciate some of the smaller pleasures in life.  I just might have to give that challenge a try again and see how much things have changed for me, could make for an interesting series of posts on my second blog.

I have moments in every day that are happy and sad, along with every other emotion imaginable.  I’ve learned to just accept whatever the emotion of the moment might be and let it flow right through me to make room for the next one, although I would admit to trying to grasp those small bits of bliss for just a little bit longer.

I suppose what makes me happy is not all that different from other people: family, friends, good food, warm hugs, great music.  I really don’t have a lot of sadness in my life, which might be surprising considering the tone of many of my poems.  The list of things that tick me off, my list of regrets, those would be much, much longer.

Peggy: Talk some more about the town you live in now? Is it basically an agricultural area? What parts of it do you like and what do you dislike?

Mary: Odell, Illinois, is a very small town, just over 1000 people.  It’s a very agricultural area, mostly corn and soybeans.  The drought this summer was devastating.  Watching those fields drying up and dying every day was quite painful to witness, and it will certainly take some time for the area to recover.  A couple of years ago a wind farm sprang up that pretty much surrounds the town.  The towering windmills are a sight to behold, and the tax revenue has been a tremendous boost to the local schools.

The school is absolutely my favorite part of living here.  It’s relatively small - my daughter has 14 kids in her entire grade - but she has blossomed so much since we moved here.  We’ve been here for almost two years now, and the change in her is amazing.

Like many small towns, the community tends to be pretty close knit, and it’s taken a while to try and get to know people here, which would be one of the few downfalls to living here.  But it’s getting better, and I’m sure it will improve with time.



Peggy: Is there anything else you would like to add?

Mary: I'd just like to say how grateful I am to be a Toad.  I've learned so much both from the great variety of writing prompts we have as well as reading the work of all the other incredibly talented participants.  This Garden has blossomed into a wonderful community that I love spending time in.  Thank you all so much for making me feel welcome!

Peggy: Thank you so much Mary for sharing so much with us at Real Toads. It has been a pleasure putting this together—even though lately I seem to have been more disorganized about it than usual. I am so glad to have met you.