[stylist] Age for Senior division? RE: Pocket Prose, too? RE: Poem in Your Pocket Day, April 24

Myrna Badgerow kajuncutie926 at aol.com
Tue Apr 29 03:22:59 UTC 2014


That's what I was hoping. Thank you Robert. You're the best !

Sent from my iPhone

> On Apr 28, 2014, at 9:49 PM, "Robert Leslie Newman" <newmanrl at cox.net> wrote:
> 
> Myrna
> RE: Good question! 
> 
> WOW, I really do not think it has one. In Nebraska we do not. Membership is
> based on interest, people who have interest in knowing, in supporting
> concerns of seniors who happen to be blind. Much like membership within the
> Federation itself...think of it, we have many sighted members....we all have
> interest within this area of life.
> 
> -----Original Message-----
> From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Myrna
> Badgerow
> Sent: Monday, April 28, 2014 12:22 PM
> To: newmanrl at cox.net; Writer's Division Mailing List
> Subject: Re: [stylist] Pocket Prose, too? RE: Poem in Your Pocket Day, April
> 24
> 
> Great idea Robert!  
> Quick question too. What is the age requirement for the Senior Division?
> 
> Sent from my iPhone
> 
>>> On Apr 28, 2014, at 12:08 PM, "Robert Leslie Newman" <newmanrl at cox.net>
>> wrote:
>> 
>> Jackie
>> 
>> I too read the story! It is a real kick! I like a surprise and thought 
>> provoking ending. I also took note of the age of the main character 
>> and thought that too was special. MMM, I'm going to copy and paste it 
>> into a new message and send it to the Nebraska Senior division list; 
>> bet they will enjoy it, too.
>> 
>> -----Original Message-----
>> From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Jackie 
>> Williams
>> Sent: Monday, April 28, 2014 11:49 AM
>> To: 'Writer's Division Mailing List'
>> Subject: Re: [stylist] Pocket Prose, too? RE: Poem in Your Pocket Day, 
>> April
>> 24
>> 
>> Barbara, Thanks for reading this. I meant it to be funny. I am glad it 
>> hit the mark with you.
>> 
>> Jackie Lee
>> 
>> Time is the school in which we learn.
>> Time is the fire in which we burn.
>> Delmore Schwartz     
>> 
>> -----Original Message-----
>> From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Barbara 
>> Hammel
>> Sent: Monday, April 28, 2014 6:43 AM
>> To: Writer's Division Mailing List
>> Subject: Re: [stylist] Pocket Prose, too? RE: Poem in Your Pocket Day, 
>> April
>> 24
>> 
>> That is too funny!  Though, sadly too many scams like this go on.
>> Barbara
>> 
>> 
>> 
>> 
>> Writing free verse is like playing tennis with the net down.--Robert 
>> Frost -----Original Message-----
>> From: Jackie Williams
>> Sent: Sunday, April 27, 2014 2:32 PM
>> To: newmanrl at cox.net ; 'Writer's Division Mailing List'
>> Subject: Re: [stylist] Pocket Prose, too? RE: Poem in Your Pocket 
>> Day,April
>> 24
>> 
>> Robert,
>> Prose in your pocket day? Why don't you assign your own date. Submit 
>> it to Poets and Writers and they might help to promote it.
>> At any rate, I am not a fiction writer, however your suggestion, and 
>> the assignment from my poetry teacher, (subject: a skunk and a 
>> mailbox) made me spin a tale, rather than a poem. I was also 
>> remembering Miss Fee's story of how she was "conned." Since I do not 
>> have to worry about format, I will cut and paste. I hope my foray into
> this new genre does not doom me.
>> 
>> Mailbox, Inc. Flash Fiction 734 Words
>> 
>> A stylish couple parked their Cadillac, gathered their pile of mail 
>> and entered the Mailbox store with a cheery greeting for the friendly
> manager.
>> After having the forty envelopes stamped and posted, The wrinkled, 
>> stooped, elderly woman opened their large box and extracted an unusual 
>> number of letters stuffed into it. The manager contained his curiosity 
>> at this thrice-weekly performance. He wondered why, with the return 
>> address of "Natural Fragrances Inc.", there were never any boxes mailed.
>> Meanwhile, a tall man, living at "Top of the World," in a trailer 
>> behind his museum of rocks, minerals, precious stones, and his 
>> hand-blown glass, eagerly awaited the mail. His life was lonely, being 
>> situated between two copper mines in two towns where the miners lived. 
>> His wife gone, no children to visit, his appetites still strong, he 
>> met no women. Mail delivery was the high spot of his day. The box was 
>> located up front scarcely off the highway where mining trucks and all 
>> traffic between the towns moved around the clock, leaving road kill in 
>> its wake. Being  spring, even baby javelina were found.
>> He got a newspaper bi-weekly, called "The Single Scene." Since he had 
>> no cell phone because of an out-of-reach signal, and no computer, he 
>> had taken to answering the intriguing ads by mail.
>> He was surprised at the number of women looking for a partner, and was 
>> a bit put off by some of the more blatant ones. One, however, had held 
>> his interests, actually, much more than that. He had fantasized. She 
>> was beautiful in his eyes, old enough that he would not be accused of 
>> breaking the law, and dressed to show enough, but not too much, like 
>> the others often did. She had a business, "Natural Fragrances," 
>> developing individual fragrances using one's DNA and pheromones, 
>> crafted to seek out the man of each Woman's dreams. For him, she 
>> promised anything and everything to meet his wildest dreams if they found
> a match.
>> Her last letter said she would visit him, but she was having some 
>> financial problems with her business, and could not come until she 
>> found a loan to complete her project and get transport to his home. 
>> She promised that in her next letter, she would impregnate her message 
>> with her own crafted scent, since all of her experimentation had been on
> herself.
>> His curiosity overcame him. In his last note, he had promised a large 
>> check to cover the last leg of her research, and enough more for her 
>> travel to see him, upon receipt of her letter infused with her own sweet
> pheromones.
>> The mailman pulled his truck as far off the highway as he could with 
>> the tall man's letter in his hand. He felt a bump, and quickly alit 
>> from the car. A skunk, still standing, turned tail up, and sprayed the 
>> poor man's face, clothes, and what he was carrying. Gasping for a 
>> non-contaminated breath, he quickly put the letter in the box, and 
>> drove to a place where he could strip and shower.
>> The tall man, eager with anticipation, started to his mailbox sometime 
>> later in the day. Out of habit, he looked at the highway, and thought, 
>> "thank goodness, no road-kill today to clean up". As he reached in for a
> letter.
>> Eyes smarting,  he could not even read the return address.
>> Holding it out from himself, he deposited it outside his door for 
>> later reading.
>> Several days later, not having received his awaited answer from his 
>> new love, he saw the one he had gotten several days before. He was 
>> finally able to tolerate the smell, and was shocked to find the return 
>> address. This is the message he found. "My Darling, with your promised 
>> help, I was able to complete the research on myself. I have immersed 
>> this note in this fragrance for several days. It contains a promise to 
>> you. Upon my visit, you will hold the length of me in your arms. I 
>> will be open and eager for your every move or need. I am insatiable, 
>> and will impregnate your bed with my aroma so that you can enjoy it, even
> for the time I might have to leave."
>> The tall man, picked up the note carefully by the corner, carried it 
>> to his potbellied stove, opened it, and tossed it in the fire, along 
>> with the latest issue of the "Single Scene."
>> 
>> Jackie Lee
>> 
>> Time is the school in which we learn.
>> Time is the fire in which we burn.
>> Delmore Schwartz
>> 
>> 
>> -----Original Message-----
>> From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Robert 
>> Leslie Newman
>> Sent: Friday, April 25, 2014 4:57 AM
>> To: 'Writer's Division Mailing List'
>> Subject: [stylist] Pocket Prose, too? RE: Poem in Your Pocket Day, 
>> April 24
>> 
>> Jacky
>> 
>> Those poems were really interesting and good. MM, thinking now of 
>> prose...I wonder if there may be some pocket prose pieces that authors 
>> here could share with the list? (Yeah, pocket prose.... excuse my 
>> diction, flash
>> fiction.)
>> 
>> -----Original Message-----
>> From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Jackie 
>> Williams
>> Sent: Thursday, April 24, 2014 10:42 PM
>> To: 'Writer's Division Mailing List'
>> Subject: [stylist] Poem in Your Pocket Day, April 24
>> 
>> Fellow Poets,
>> My assignment this week in my critique group was to select four short, 
>> accessible poems, print and cut them  apart, and bring them to the 
>> senior center to put in a large bucket on the sign in table. Since 
>> there 14 of us in my class, if we each make ten copies of each poem, 
>> making 40 poems, that it is quite a few that might convince a non-poet 
>> that it is a worthwhile and enjoyable craft.
>>        I have enclosed the ones I printed and cut apart. I did not 
>> print where they were published, and the amount of the award. That is 
>> just for your information to give you an idea of categories, where you 
>> can send them, and what you can earn.
>> 
>> Poem in Your Pocket Day           Jacqueline Williams April 24, '14
>> 
>> Indiana Third Place, 48 entries
>> 
>> Obituary
>> 
>> When I am settled down up there
>> I'll have myself a holy tear,
>> or when I'm fired up down there,
>> I'll surely make the Devil care.
>> 
>> But if I'm not invited in
>> because of godly grace or sin,
>> I'll plant myself in earth with men,
>> and grow to bud and bloom again.
>> 
>> Arkansas, 1st Place, $25.
>> A limerick but very serious, called a Merickli
>> 
>> The Trigger Points of Nature Do Not Lie
>> 
>> Our earth sheds its tears, gasps for air.
>> Our experts, denied, feel despair.
>> The oceans may die,
>> and forests don't lie.
>> Producers of carbon don't care.
>> 
>> ASPS, Twitter Poetry, 2011, First place, 25.00
>> 
>> String Theory Made Easy
>> 
>> It seems
>> I have a choice.
>> Become an entity
>> who's all unwound or one who's tied
>> in knots.
>> 
>> Old Age  unpublished
>> 
>> When there
>> is no place left
>> to sail your boat-set eyes
>> upon that arc of blue and stay
>> afloat.
>> 
>> The two twitter poems are Cinquains
>> Perhaps you all would like to try a short accessible poem for such a 
>> purpose? Are there more than eight poets in our group?
>> Though the national deadline was today, Florida has done things like 
>> this for the entire month of April.
>> 
>> 
>> Jackie Lee
>> 
>> Time is the school in which we learn.
>> Time is the fire in which we burn.
>> Delmore Schwartz
>> 
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