[stylist] New Prompt, Poem & Photos

Sat Aug 1 14:36:51 UTC 2015

Jackie, and all -
what a good idea to get back on track with writing.  I agree, but some of 
the chatter is  full of imagery for writing or making art. Ideas can come 
from anywhere.

I like the three poems you sent here. I remember the first one about your 
son and the gathering of stones for the medicine bag you created in his 
memory.It is beautiful. I love stones of all sorts and it seems like every 
place I go, I bring back a stone from that place - have bowls of stones 
throughout my home. I think the stones I love the most are the 
bottom-of-the-creek water worn stones I have gathered when out in my canoe 
on a river. I have one small mixed media fiber work I created which started 
with three such river stones - the piece eventually was finished and called 
"Party on the Allegheny River" and it has appeared in international 
exhibitions and won in many shows - Last year it won a very good monetary 
award at the American Printing House for the Blind - in their annual museum 
exhibition. The work is only about 5 inches square - but stones are so 
powerful that just a very tiny stone can stop a person in their tracks by 
the beauty and energy it radiates. Stones are an essential element in just 
about all of my art work - and they show up often in my poetry and writing. 
I will attach a photo of Party on the Allegheny River for those who can see 
it.

My love affair with beautiful stones and crystals is reflected  in my 
talismans I create using stones, gems, found objects, and other items - the 
talismans are complex, exquisite and costly - I create exhibition pieces, 
viewed in galleries and museum shows. For those who have some vision or can 
use magnification,  I'll also attach a photo of  "The Dragon's Healing 
Breastplate" - shown in exhibition at a museum in Pittsburgh last year. 
I'll attach "My Bleeding Heart," a talisman completed this year. It just won 
"Best of show" at a PA juried exhibition in July.  You can see that stones 
are a motif in my  art  and my writing.

And, below, I will cut and paste a poem which describes the glory of wearing 
stones. This poem is called "Adornment."  I began working with an idea I got 
when a friend once said to me, "OH, I love wearing my jewelry. I could just 
adorn myself with every piece I own, and wear them all at the same time." 
She was a metal smith and created  one-of-a-kind works.   I combined her 
thoughts on wearing jewelry, with my own experiences, and this is what came 
out.

Thanks for putting out this prompt.
**

“Adornment:  decorations worn to attract attention.”

by Lynda McKinney Lambert

On languid September days
I would like to wear
colorful  gaudy jewelry
every single one
at the same time.
Adornments are worn to enhance autumn days.

I’d put the gems on in layers,
an ancient  warrior preparing for battle.
Blue Topaz rings, one on each finger.
My arms, encircled with ornaments.
Protected by brilliant stones-
faceted cherry quartz, deep green turquoise chunks,
nuggets of Baltic amber in different colors,
jet black polished stones,  and waxy yellow opals.

I’ll wear a periwinkle blue dancing skirt.
a flowing  chiffon  jacket .
I am a flamboyant coat-of-armor
that covers voluptuous, full breasts
like a bishop’s  gold encrusted shawl.
My holy, rare, mother-of-pearl talisman
adorns my royal, goddess  chest.

I slip my perfumed feet into soft sky blue sandals,
promenade around the spacious room,
in ever widening circles,
among the evening shadows,
under luminescent  spheres
turning high above us.

-----Original Message----- 
From: Jackie Williams via stylist
Sent: Friday, July 31, 2015 7:59 PM
To: 'Writers' Division Mailing List'
Cc: Jackie Williams
Subject: [stylist] A New Prompt, LONGISH

Hi all,
The back and forth of these last few days is mind-dancing. In some ways I
agree with Joanne, and in some  instances with Bridgit. Since we are first
and foremost writers, can each of you write either a piece of flash fiction,
or short memoire, or a poem about the unusual things that are close to your
hearts and minds. rocks, essential oils, age regression, or dreams, or even
Portland! You can skip it if it is porn!
I will start you off by cutting and pasting three poems.  The first I posted
long ago when the discussions ran along similar tracks. My son disappeared
when he was twenty and his remains were not found for fourteen years. He was
on  a ledge near the top of Black Mountain in AZ, near the Superstition
Mountains.
Some friends had a most unusual service of sorts in the Sawtooth Mountains
of Idaho just two years after he disappeared. He had worked in the forestry
service and some friends carved out a medicine wheel in such a private place
that it was not desecrated for five years. Because of his interest in Indian
lore and rocks, I researched the rocks I thought represented him best. I put
them in his medicine bag which now hangs next to my bed with the
Dream-catcher.
Medicine Wheel

you taught me how to grieve
dance emotions           chant the sorrow
place myself in the power of your signs
bid my son good-bye
buried in pain I did not hear
his cries for help          before he left
my wonderment           that our first steps
into stark wilderness    were matched in time
yet became our solitary journeys

it is not right that the mother
survives the son          unless his spirit
burns bright within her for all of her
remaining days
your circle of rocks enabled this

I put three Indian healing stones
that captured his spirit
into my medicine bag
fiesta jasper     a bright coral
            to give dynamism        lively energy
                        power to attend us always
crazy lace agate          to provide security
            from doing things only for another's desire
                        give confidence in any new domain
            yet soften stubbornness
rock crystal      versatile           powerful
            to stimulate and focus energy
                        to heal the body and the mind
            enhance a vision
give powers of observation
            arouse authority to live fully

we bless you   Medicine Wheel
            as you did the healing stones
by the spirit from the beating drum

I sprinkle cornmeal      then leave
His medicine bag hangs near my heart
my son's life force and mine are converged

I hope this next cinquain will not offend anyone. The form: Five lines of
2,4,6,8,2 syllables in iambic. Not usually rhymed, but I could not resist.

Citrines

I do
not ever have
to clean my old latrine,
for hanging on each wall I have
citrines.

The last poem is an Anaphora, meaning the beginning of each stanza, or line,
or whatever are started with the same word or words. In this case, the words
are, Her hands. I suggest you read this one through, not line by line, at
least at first, and then again if you want to know the oils.

11. Traditional Form, Anaphora

Magic Through Raindrop Therapy

Her hands are gnarled. The fingers twisted so give lie to tenderness, the
strength, the flow of energy to flesh, so cold it shivers.
As she applies the oils....limbs live, skin quivers.
Her hands give life, and so they move her own into my muscles from which use
has flown. Three drops of valor, thyme, oregano
then soft massage on soles to make them glow.
Her hands now smoothly, quickly make their moves. I murmur sweetly many,
"Ah's," and "Oo's."
Then comes the cypress, basil and the birch, some peppermint and marjoram to
search
her hands for guidance, knowledge to work in to spastic muscles, jangling
nerves, dry skin. My stress recedes as if from endless war
for now my body finally knows the score.
Her hands will finally smooth Aroma Siez and "crown of oils," the super
Ortho Ease. The miracles of frankincense and myrrh cannot compete. I do not
want to stir!
Her hands have made my universe complete. I think I'll never feet again the
heat
from hands that poured those urgent healing balms. if I can give to
others-feel no qualms-
her hands might teach me once again to love a body's need for energy above,
belie the mundane frantic lives we lead, make contact once again with life
decreed.

Jacqueline Williams, Mesa, AZ
Published, Sandcutters,ASPQuarterly
Incidentally,  though my sister is a Reiki Master, and I hold a
Second-degree Reiki certificate, I am not a true believer. I just know that
it helps people who can believe, just like so many other mind-body healing
methods and therapies.Raindrop Thereapy is really not Reiki, but a special
massage therapy, but my sister gives them.rAIN

I am working ON a poem about Portland. Did you know that it has the most
environmentally friendly garbage collection methods probably in the entire
U.S.? Also, that it has a high suicide rate due to the cold, gloomy, and
rainy weather much of the year? I took AFAA training there years ago and
loved it for this. It is the heat in triple digits, the politics, and the no
rain that make me even consider such a thing here.

Jackie Lee

Time is the school in which we learn.
Time is the fire in which we burn.
Delmore Schwartz

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