Luanne Castle's Blog, page 3

A Gorgeous Collection Combining Genres of Poetry, Genealogy, and History

I am guessing that Meadowlark Songs: A Motherline Legacy feels like one of the children of the author Joy Neal Kidney. Writers often feel that way about their creations. If so, I am hoping I can call myself one of the book’s many grandparents. My chapbook Kin Types, a collection of poems and flash prose, reinvented the lives of my female ancestors. Kidney mentions my book as one of her favorite resources, which tickles me more than I can tell you—because the genre seems fresh and new and so dear to my heart. And now I see it reimagined by Kidney who has created a gorgeous, well-researched, and organized delve into the lives of the women of her family who came before her.

Meadowlark Songs is primarily a poetry collection illustrated with family photographs and supplemented with informative prose. Each “mother” before Kidney has her own section, as part of the “motherline.” The cover design by Nelly Murariu beautifully captures the feel of the book.

The ancestors in the book began their lives on the east coast of the United States, but gradually moved farther inland, as far as Nebraska but the family put down deep roots in Iowa. The women’s lives come to life in Kidney’s poetry. These women are strong, resolute, and inspired by their Christian faith.

Family stories and legends are also captured in the poetry. For instance, in “Startled by Santee Sioux,” we read how Laura Goff, Kidney’s great grandmother, was a Nebraska pioneer when a couple of Santee Sioux men walked into her home. She negotiated a trade for dress goods by bartering her chickens to the men. The book is full of fascinating anecdotes such as this.

Probably my favorite part of the book is the last section, about the author herself, “The Memory Keeper,”—and her passion for creating a lasting storyline of her family through this book, as well as her previous books. We read about what formative experiences she had, and how her faith has been her guidance through it all.

I’ve cried and laughed reading Kidney’s other books, but I felt even closer to this book as she connected with the women who made her who she is today. Such a powerful experience for any woman.

You can connect with the author here: https://joynealkidney.com/

Click on the book image above to purchase through Amazon.

Joy Neal Kidney is the oldest granddaughter of Leora Wilson and author of four “Leora books.” She lives in central Iowa with her husband, Guy (an Air Force Veteran of the Vietnam War and retired Air Traffic Controller). Their son and his wife live out-of-state with a daughter named Kate.

A graduate of the University of Northern Iowa, Joy has lived with fibromyalgia for two dozen years, giving her plenty of home-bound days to write blog posts and books.

 

 

Missing Everyone

I’m still here, folks! This recovery period from hip replacement surgery has been a little challenging, but I hope to be in good shape at the end of this adventure. Don’t let anybody tell you how easy a hip replacement recovery is, though, because it isn’t for even the healthiest and everybody is different with a different recovery period.

Every morning I find Perry’s squid placed carefully where my back lies on the couch. If he’s worried, he drops it in my lap.

 

I have bought a lot of medical items on Amazon, only to end up with a tub of returns. Velcro shorts and underwear, compression stockings that were the wrong something or other, rubber gloves for the compression stockings that the Gardener won’t use, and so on.

The journal Waffle Fried published a flash story of mine that is close to my childhood memories. By that I mean that while the story is fiction, the emotions, sensory details, places, and characters are true to my childhood.

https://wafflefried.com/sumac/

I am wondering if these elements are only true to my experience or if they ring any bells for you.

Leaving you with a little poem:

pain pulses through me

the pills can’t work fast enough

Perry lies next me

 

all is well

Throughout all this the past few weeks, I’ve missed you all!

See You on the Healing Side

My hip replacement surgery is day after tomorrow. There is a small hospital here that is dedicated to joint and spine surgery. That is the hospital my orthopedic surgeon uses. And get this. It’s a private room with a pullout bed for the gardener.

I can’t wait to get rid of this horrendous pain. Please send all homemade cookies, cats, and flowers to my email address ;). Love you all!

A Senryu for National Poetry Monthr

HAPPY POETRY MONTH!

This week’s poetry challenge at Tanka Tuesday is The Fool, as in the card in the tarot deck. I got an idea for my senryu from the card from The Wild Unknown which features a baby bird on a twig or branch. I found the image online, but couldn’t find one I felt I had permission to reprint here. I did a marathon this past weekend of taking care of my toddler grandson. My hip is completely shot and otherwise screwed up, and I’m getting a new one in a month and a half,* so this was pretty insane for me to do (The Fool?). The gardener helped though, and the babysitter came for three hours, too.

After viewing the tarot card I thought about how my grandson must feel when he makes some of his dangerous choices. Here’s my poem:

baby climbs on chair

he stands upright, rocks backwards

hope blossoms in him

Of course that’s not how Grandma views the situation, but I do think we’re pretty close so I have him a bit figured out. BTW, he does not speak or say names yet, but he called out to me again, “Grandma!” He’s done that a few times for at least four months. I’ve had witnesses every time, too, so I am NOT imagining it.

*Back to the hip. You might have good stories about how easy the surgery and recovery was for you or a friend, but don’t bother. I have some conditions that makes it scary, and so those stories won’t make me feel better but will probably irritate me. Just sayin. But thanks for the thought.  Of course, prayers and vibes accepted and even desired!

In honor of National Poetry Month and the re-opening of Zingara Poetry Review, they are providing prompts each day this month–and then if you like you can submit them in hopes of getting them published. Here’s the link for the first prompt, which I kind of love: ZINGARA PROMPT ONE

Listen to this serendipity! I searched my The Wild Unknown archetype deck to see if it includes The Fool. It does not, but I found a business card for the editor of Zingara. I have no idea how long it’s been in there as I haven’t cracked that deck in awhile. Is that WILD?

Let’s get some poetry going this month! XO

A Senryu for National Poetry Month

HAPPY POETRY MONTH!

This week’s poetry challenge at Tanka Tuesday is The Fool, as in the card in the tarot deck. I got an idea for my senryu from the card from The Wild Unknown which features a baby bird on a twig or branch. I found the image online, but couldn’t find one I felt I had permission to reprint here. I did a marathon this past weekend of taking care of my toddler grandson. My hip is completely shot and otherwise screwed up, and I’m getting a new one in a month and a half,* so this was pretty insane for me to do (The Fool?). The gardener helped though, and the babysitter came for three hours, too.

After viewing the tarot card I thought about how my grandson must feel when he makes some of his dangerous choices. Here’s my poem:

baby climbs on chair

he stands upright, rocks backwards

hope blossoms in him

Of course that’s not how Grandma views the situation, but I do think we’re pretty close so I have him a bit figured out. BTW, he does not speak or say names yet, but he called out to me again, “Grandma!” He’s done that a few times for at least four months. I’ve had witnesses every time, too, so I am NOT imagining it.

*Back to the hip. You might have good stories about how easy the surgery and recovery was for you or a friend, but don’t bother. I have some conditions that makes it scary, and so those stories won’t make me feel better but will probably irritate me. Just sayin. But thanks for the thought.  Of course, prayers and vibes accepted and even desired!

In honor of National Poetry Month and the re-opening of Zingara Poetry Review, they are providing prompts each day this month–and then if you like you can submit them in hopes of getting them published. Here’s the link for the first prompt, which I kind of love: ZINGARA PROMPT ONE

Listen to this serendipity! I searched my The Wild Unknown archetype deck to see if it includes The Fool. It does not, but I found a business card for the editor of Zingara. I have no idea how long it’s been in there as I haven’t cracked that deck in awhile. Is that WILD?

Let’s get some poetry going this month! XO

Miss Alma Milligan Visits MacQueen’s Quinterly

Have you ever met someone like Miss Alma Milligan? My high school history teacher was the inspiration. Though she grew up in the city and was sophisticated and traveled all summer every summer, the basic nature and character of my teacher found its way into this character.

Huge thanks to Editor-in-Chief Clare MacQueen for publishing this monologue micro. Feel free to use this micro for your acting auditions, just give me credit when appropriate :).

http://www.macqueensquinterly.com/MacQ27/Castle-Miss-Alma.aspx?fbclid=IwY2xjawJO70JleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHWyS9LZcXKry-v8dChpzuQegdKA5b7kX0YWjjDeeNLceV5PV4qxviiVgCQ_aem_bdwSBO8FEMcX5MsMafOANw

Completely free clipart of a hen.

 

Five Things You Never Knew About Me

I started writing this blog over 12 years ago. Some of you might remember me back then. But the blog has new readers and even with 12 years I think there are things I’ve never talked about. So here are FIVE THINGS YOU NEVER KNEW ABOUT ME.

When I was ten, my brownies won a blue ribbon at the county fair.I’m not that great at sports, but I used to love water skiing and cross-country skiing.I don’t drink coffee, and that seems to be a genetic anomaly because my aunt and my uncle are the same.When my kids were young, I got them to clean the kitchen floor by letting them slide across the floor with a bucket and rags.My favorite movie is Babe. My second favorite is Beetlejuice (the original one). #3 is Sitting Pretty (1948). #4 is Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (1948). I love the Batman movies. Lots of Bs there!

Seriously, if you’ve never seen those two 1948 movies you are really missing some hysterical comedy.

Tag, you’re it. What are five things I don’t know about you?

Scenic Writer’s Shack First Place Story

If you read Scenic Writer’s Shack you know the site just sponsored a writing contest.

I’m THA-RILLED to report that my story won first place!

The contest rules included writing about a refrigerator delivery.  What a fun assignment.

We Have a Winner!

 

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Photo by Vika Kirillova on Pexels.com

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Photo by Vika Kirillova on Pexels.com

“Amniotic Fluid” Published by WENSUM

This story was so difficult to write. I agonized over it, rewriting it again and again. Here is the finished project. It was inspired by a weather event in Kalamazoo, Michigan, on May 13, 1980. Hope you like this story! A huge thank you to Editor David Sexton and the wonderful journal WENSUM.

Amniotic Fluid by Luanne Castle

Review of Robert Okaji’s Our Loveliest Bruises

Robert Okaji’s new poetry collection Our Loveliest Bruises can be considered his greatest work, truly a magnum opus. The spare language belies the beautiful compelling imagery as it probes the depths of emotion.

Some of the poems have been published in various literary journals and anthologies, but the book is a tightly woven project of loss and grief. Okaji uses the Japanese bamboo flute shakuhachi as a metaphor for these emotions. Throughout the book, in various poems, the poet breathes his life force into the holes of the instrument, producing notes which are akin to his poems. The holes represent the absences of loss. Eventually, in “Self-Portrait as Shakuhachi,” the poet becomes the flute: “How easy to let air / slide through oneself.”

The poet’s mother’s ghost is a recurring character. She does not communicate, but there is a sense of competition between the two. The imagery in these poems is rough and realistic. There is a sense of profound regret, but also of love. From “Ghost, with a Line from Porchia”:

Your battle with language, with silence, invoked.
I stretch the word and weave this dirge for you.

Some poems address a “you,” and I believe in many cases this person is his mother’s ghost. But it could mean the poet himself. There are instances in some poems that point out the brief nature of life itself or are a merging of mother and self and perhaps even a universal human message. “Each day lived is one less to live,” Okaji writes in “Mother’s Day.”

Robert Okaji has written an extraordinary account of the “loveliest bruises” we experience from the love we have for loved ones, of self, of life itself.

***

Bob Okaji blogs at O at the Edges. If you haven’t read his blog you might not realize that Bob was diagnosed with late stage metastatic lung cancer. He has posted a couple of times on his blog about his illness. He continues to do well, although he doesn’t always feel that great.

Bob is the person who first introduced me to the Tupelo 30/30 poem challenge. I think that challenge really motivated me into writing more and more poetry.

Click the link to Bob’s blog so you can send him some good vibes. And then, if you can, click the link to his gorgeous book.

Our Loveliest Bruises