PAD Day 18 – Office – My Dentist’s Hotel Lobby

Hotel de Latour, Maubourg Paris. While nothing like the dental lobby, there is an air about it that is similar.

My Dentist’s Hotel Lobby

My dentist’s waiting room is like a hotel lobby
Filled with a classy brown sofa
So soft you could order a cup of coffee
and sit for an hour or two.
Soft music plays, mixing styles
while the receptionist, Rosemarie
answers the phone so classically.
She’s cute and perky and oh so sweet.
Then there’s the elegant artwork and the glass-pained
door of dark oak… a half French door.
It’s inviting like you could stay a while.
I wrote pages of verse while waiting.
I wrote sing-song poems.
I’d go back in a flash and just sit.
But I don’t mind seeing the dentist either.

I was really impressed with how cozy my new dentist’s office was. I really was relaxed as I sat writing for an hour, since I was early. I was able to enjoy the music, all styles, but softly played. And the table and sofa were like a hotel. I was kind of ready to order a cup of tea.

Then there is my doctor’s waiting room. It changed recently as it is in a clinic setting. I’m not happy. I miss the old one that was so wonderful.  I spend more time in doctor’s offices than any other office. But I loved my family’s company office. It was always bustling and busy. I remember going there and seeing family and friends and lots of people I knew. I loved that office two.  Miss it as well.

My Doctor’s Office Has Changed

I miss my old waiting room for my doctor
when it was open and bright and cheery
where the music was so perfect I wanted to stay
and read for a while and relax listening
to the receptionists type and check things in
and the door opened and I always glanced up

But now the waiting room is dark and dingy and full
of people I don’t like, that I have to sit too close to
and I feel claustrophobic and antsy
and I want to escape as my blood pressure rises
and it’s a miracle I leave sane.

At least the other waiting room is open for a different
doctor that I see once a year, thank God
because I will relish those few moments of waiting
where before I might have panicked
but now I find solace in the soft greys and oranges
Gosh I miss that place.

Kate

PAD Day 17 – Haiku – A Bevy of Haikus

Lilac

Lilac (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Lilac blooms above
scenting the air with perfume
a moon winks his eye

Apple blossoms fall
the wind tossing pale petals
Ah spring is near gone

Apple blossoms

Apple blossoms (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Rushing creek waters
bubble and burst forth happy
a piney wind blows

Waxing Gibbous Moon

Waxing Gibbous Moon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The green lawn freshly cut
a sharp smell of green and new
Robins come to eat

Buzzing busy bees
go forth to buzz in flowers
the lilac sways here

Honestly, the thought of writing haikus today did not put me in a poetic mood. I go through phases where a haiku or two is on my mind. But for the most part, I have never had them capture my interest quite like CB Wentworth has been able to do. She is amazing with how she writes so many all the time. I am semi envious, other than for me, my poetic form is something else. So to each his own. I am glad that these haikus turned out so well. I was sitting out under the lilac after a walk and the almost waxing gibbous moon was visible. The smell of pines was like summer and just the way the lilacs waved overhead inspired me. Thank goodness. I was actually worried there as I was ready to put a pox on haikus.

I think walking is a great way to be inspired. If you are walking along a rushing creek with the smell of fresh mountain air blowing down on you, you get double points of inspiration. So a walk was clearly a need.

I hope others, if they are doing the PAD had luck with their haikus. I am excited to see what tomorrow’s prompt will be. It’s hard to believe it’s already the end of the 17th!

Kate

PAD Day 16 – Eateries – Nighthawk Breakfast Bar

Nighthawk Breakfast Bar

There’s a place in LA known as the
Nighthawk Breakfast Bar
Where it’s only a nighttime affair
From eight to two it’s breakfast there
With a very adult twist.
Milk infused with sugary things
and spiked with a bit of brandy
And maybe a stack of drunken French toast
Or maybe some benedict fries
All with fried eggs in a darkened haze.
Sit with your friends or a lover
ordering bacon towers and a stack
of sweet potato pancakes all drenched
reading the paper like it’s
Sunday morning so lazy and calm
as that hit from the 80s pumps
your blood up for the pear brandy
and challah spread with mascarpone.
A little bit rich a little bit wild
As you sit in the night eating pancakes
Who cares if it’s one in the morning,
It’s Sunday brunch somewhere.

So an actor I know just posted about a marvelous breakfast nighttime restaurant on Facebook and so far, everyone has been oohed and awed by what could be from this place. I so want to go. I love eating breakfast when it’s late at night. I’ve gotten breakfast for dinner when I went on a date with a guy, and there’s something so homey about it.
My grandparents love breakfast dinners. They are the best.

The title of this piece is actually the place and if you click this link HERE you can read the LA Times article.

While it wasn’t written for today’s prompt, I did write a piece about eating burgers at night which is Cheeseburger Hunger.

That one is a favorite of mine. So enjoy these fine eateries.

Kate

PAD Day 15 – Use Those Words

Robert gave us a list of words to use in a poem, specifically using at least four of the words in a poem. We could use all of them, but that was too ambitious for my tastes. The words were ‘flat, ring, lavish, vessel, paper, blacklist, gaudy, and tooth.’

lilac Syringa vulgaris in bloom

lilac Syringa vulgaris in bloom (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Tossed Lilac Blooms

The wind tossed the lilac blooms
like lavish paper flowers on the floor
Crumpled tissue paper on green carpet.
Now what was once maybe gaudy
is withering in the sunlight.
Lay them flat in a book
Pressing the rainfall scent
into the pages, until the crackled
petals fall into a heap on the floor
as you open the forgotten book
and realize you now have to
clean up scattered springtime.

I could not use blacklist or tooth, but every other word worked for either one of these poems. Ambitious in my opinion.
If She Said Yes

The ring is a vessel of his love
Told in lavish words of glitter
As sunlight approves this union
With a gaudy show of sparkles
On the flat white wall
Sign the papers and post the banns
And may way for a marked procession
Just so long as she said yes…….

PAD Day 13 – Last – Last Dance

Last Dance

It’s the last dance as the band begins to fade,
and the groom and bride have left long ago,
while streamers and confetti litter the floor,
and you and I spin around the dance floor.

The disco ball is spinning slowly flashing lights,
and Charlie’s eating another piece of cake,
while Janice takes off her heels and rests her feet,
we are all a little dead on our feet.

But I’ll spin you in your fancy dress,
and my bow tie is hanging around my neck,
while Brian’s cumberbund is hanging on a chair,
Brian’s resting in that open chair.

The band’s song is tired and losing steam,
but I’ll hold you a little longer more,
because this night is just for the two of us,
so let’s just dance, the two of us.

 

Last dances, last rites, last kisses, last moments… There’s so many last things. I kept having Frank Sinatra’s The Last Dance playing in my head today. One of my favorite songs. So many ideas, but nothing took off quite so much as thinking about a last dance of the night, when the band is playing a tired song. You know the kind. They are in movies and shows and they make the dancing seem tired and such, but I always find it kind of funny. And women are taking off their shoes because their feet are tired.  Guys look sexy in their tux, with the jacket off and a bow tie losened and hanging around their neck.  Women’s hair falling. It’s kind of cool.

Kate

 

PAD Day 12 – Serious/Silly – When We Were Young and Silly

Could there be anything more perfect than bookshelves full of books? Only being in a story that is crammed full, with all the nooks and crannies. One of the isles of the Ashland Book Exchange.

Good Wednesday morning allI! I was in Ashland, Oregon yesterday and while there I stopped in at The Book Exchange, a marvelous used bookstore, and one place I feel I must stop when I visit there. It doesn’t hurt that it’s kind of like a cave. I wish I would have taken pictures, but if anyone goes onto the website, you can see the interior. Or see the one picture above from their site.

While I didn’t find the second and third Outlander novels, nor Alice Through the Looking Glass, which was what I was hunting for, I did walk out with two other books I have been hunting for, for quite a while.  A.A. Milne‘s “When We Were Young” and “Now We Are Six“; two marvelous little books of nonsense and children’s poetry. Though honestly, some of it is so relevant to being an adult since I can now understand some things I didn’t as a child.

They were especially fun to find as they fit with the prompt for Day 12 of PAD – write a silly poem or write a serious poem. I think honestly they are not quite silly, nor not quite serious, but kind of in between.  So I hope you enjoy.

 

 

When We Were Young and Silly

I’m reading something silly in an A.A. Milne book
It’s rather sweet and charming with an old-fashioned look.
When we were young, but now we are six, is how it goes,
Those ages when life was simple and free as time flows.
Daisy teas and acorn cups, and rivers of milk and honey,
Of sandbox cakes so fancy, when time was warm and sunny.
The years were endless, time moving like a slippery snail,
Trudging through the months, waiting for Christmas without fail.
Now we are many more years than six could ever be,
I miss the simple and the silly in all the things I’d see.

And……

Bookstore Ghosts

The bookstore whispers in a somber note
of authors past and living ghosts.
Though the bustling of active sales
the quiet pervades each nook and fades.
A creaking floor alludes to others there
a turn shows there’s no one anywhere.
Each book calls you to touch and linger
to find those stories that are matches to tinder.
Burning you up with magic between pages;
how could black words on white make such changes?
Your life is not yours as you leave with ghosts,
Stacked up in tomes filled with dusty motes.

Ah, I think it turned out pretty good in the scope of things. I’m happy with it. And I was excited to be in Ashland, even if Mr. B was like one of the most impatient guys ever while I was in the bookstore. I could have easily spent an hour or three there.

Kate

PAD Day 11 – Defense – In Defense of Romance and More

In Defense of Romance

I see marriage and sex and companionship,
But where is the romance?
Where is the love of a gallant man
rescuing his fair lady from the scourge?
Where have all the heroes, cowboys, and knights
gone in this desperate world?
Where are the soft nights so moonlit
lovers walking hand in hand?
Why are we now falling into carnal knowledge
before the first kiss has sweetly touched
in a lingering moment?

I believe in romance and love
Before the bedroom
Before the clothes have fallen.
When there was the passion of just being
with another as friends and confidants.
There was a life shared before bodies joined.
Now there is so little left to be discovered,
as a modesty no longer exists
shattered by lacking morals
An impatience for something to strive to.
Impatience overthrows the anticipation
and the waiting is tossed to the bedroom
as the hurry for more is stressed before
the two have even learned last names.

Oh where is the romance of twenty and five years?
Where has it gone?

Seriously though, where has all the romance gone? I was listening to Extreme’s ‘More Than Words’, and the song is about how the words “I love you” were being used so flippantly and how now they don’t mean so much when you say them. So you need to do more than just say words that mean very little.

We live in an age where you ‘hook up’ first before you hardly know each other’s last names. I think about this in reference to Outlander (Sorry people, I love the books) and how Claire says she can’t marry Jamie because she doesn’t know his last name. Then she proceeds to introduce herself fully to him.

The poem below carries on the same theme of defending a lady’s honor and holding her dear. Oh where have all the cowboys, knights, and epic heroes gone?

Defending Knight

Defend me gallant knight with sword and shield
Your strength of arms is never concealed
Swoop down and rescue the damsel in distress
Her waving kerchief her love attests
To the heart you call her to be just yours
Protect and guard her from endless foes
You sir, are a courtly knight of the realm
With a broad sword and a polished helm
Your horse is the steed of legends so grand
The world is your to take and command
So guard your lady so fair of beauty
She’s your lady so do your duty
And protect her through the night and darkness
And keep her safe in your lover’s caress.

 

Again, I’m still in a Scottish laird defending his lady moment. Sorry people.

Kate

PAD Day 10 – Emotions – Impatience Is What I Am

Impatience Is What I Am

Impatient, yes, that would explain it all
as I pull up a story, then another and another
wanting to work on all, but none as a hint
of frazzled frosts over and my pen taps restless
against a full, or almost full notebook
Or my finger flicks and taps open files
glancing over great works of amazing feats
only to be closed with another flick.
Finish something! I rail to myself.
Don’t start anything new, as my pen flirts
With a pristine white page impatient
I’m impatient with myself so unfocused
And utterly frustrated as I read amazing
Remarkable books, an author’s loving hand
tapped out to make me envious of
all my inequalities with myself.
Wondering if I’ll ever make it writing
Or if I’ll waste years of endless words
On nothing and everything and worthless

 

Too much emotion in this….. I told Doña, yesterday that I was feeling burned out, and I still feel that way. Being envious of other writers has a tendancy to make me feel this way, so I think that might be all it is.

Then there’s this…

Put The Corresponding Face With

Put the corresponding emotion with the corresponding face
Says Kate on French Kiss
And right now I want to box up these corresponding emotions with the correct moment.
Happy, sad, morose, inspired; flash through me several times a day
Till I’m exhausted and not knowing what I feel
And whether or not it fits with a moment in time
Burned out, depressed, uninspired, all have had there place in one day
Then throw in excited, happy and impatient
So mixed up in feelings I’m ten people in one
Worry when I start to talk to myself
Because it’s all downhill from there if I’m more than one…

 

A nuerotic wreck. Clearly.

KIate

 

PAD Day 9 – Hide Out

Step back into that faraway corner
right there
tucked back in poetry and plays
just look
It’s darker than the rest of rows
come see
but it’s homey and safe from eyes
that watch
So I can write all undisturbed
so quiet
and read till the clocks shut down
and stop
till she says the library’s closing
up tight
but my place is mine to claim
right there
My spot is only mine to write
for now
Until I need the books to hold
me tight
for my next writing time
just there
No one else uses this place
just see
that it’s for me and only me
to have

I like to write in the library back in the non fiction because I usually don’t get disturbed there. Not that I write there often. In fact, I probably only visit my spot a couple times a year, but I know that whenever I visit, I can have the spot all to myself because it’s very unused. So I like it. It’s kind of funny to have a spot, a hide out that rarely gets used.

But then I have other hide outs….

It’s the summer sun that pulls me out
to webbed and shrouded blueberries
where the dry mulch makes my skin
tingle and electrify up
A whisper of wind in the pines
warm resin scents the air a thick perfume
And I’m supposed to be watering
Or picking those ripe blue balls
but instead I’m scribbling here
or reading on that stump
the whisperings of a Frenchman
in my ear making me sleepy
and so very unmotivated to work
And I could hang my hammock under
the whispering pine trees
living out here always with the summer heat

I take a stack of books and my notebook out to the blueberries to pick… and never get to reading or writing, but I like having the option if I want to. And usually I’m listening to The French Whisperer, having those ASMR tingles going all over my head and practically falling asleep as I pick, or water. It’s rather dangerous, but I don’t get very interrupted out there, so it’s nice. The video below is one of my favorite ones to listen to. And I have this thing for a French accent…

I actually want to create a few more hide outs, but I have yet to find one that I can really hide out in. I need a spot in the shade, by the creek. I need to find one. I really like how Robert, over at Writer’s Digest talked about a hide out in a picture. I recommend reading it HERE

Kate

PAD Day 8 – Doodles

A doodle starts between those momentsIMG_4771
when my pen doesn’t write words
a swooping line arching up, back down
a thought on the very verge
but then the lines are not letters wound
tight in stories, now swooping back up
down and forth, a seam of lines
out come the pearls so close up
little drops of caviar so aligned
a poke leaf or two, not a poem
but a symphony of swirls and drops
No thought, no rules, only gems
of black lines impatient stops.

I tend to doodle, or dabble in Zentangle when I can’t concentrate on writing. And I wasn’t srue where I wanted to go with this. I feel like I should have doodled out thoughts on Outlander because that is where my focus is right now. As I write this I’m looking up the show and images because I’m kind of hooked as I read the book. But I do find when I can’t concentrate on writing, I draw and doodle, sticking to about five specific designs. I have cards filled with them, and in the margins of notebooks, and on random scraps of paper.

I think I picked it up watching my mom on the phone and the drawing she would do. I didn’t get it until I started being on the phone more with people I didn’t really want to talk to.

I find that I’m more apt to go and actually do something, like makes beds, and water, and pick up things, while I’m on the phone. I feel like I need to do something. I actually had someone ask me why I was so out of breath while I was on the phone and I said I was making a bed. He laughed and didn’t get it, but I can’t sit still while I’m on the phone.

I don’t know if this poem works, and this one is a harder one to do, but it’s something.
Kate