Vinyl

Response to Prompt #56


In late September I had the privilege of hearing poet Mary Biddinger read her poetry and speak on creativity at Florida SouthWestern College. It was an unforgettable day, one that inspired me and brought me back to some internal creative pieces I've been missing.

When I first considered the prompt for this month, I was going to use Mary's idea of a "beacon"--something that reminds you to be creative. Then I came across the quote prompt, and liked that a lot, so went with that one. I thought at the time I knew what quote I would work with, since I had just read Educated, and there was one in there that caught my imagination.

But that was not to be. Once a week I read a poem from Mary's book of prose poems Partial Genius. When I read one called "Apology Tour" I found this line:

Let's listen to Black Sabbath and inhale the rage of vinyl seats.

Immediately a story formed in my mind. I knew I had the right quote.

Since I like playing with structures, I decided to model the prose narrative much like Mary is doing with her prose poems, which are divided into five sections. To push myself further, I decided there would just be five sentences per section.  I enjoyed the challenge of creating more complex lines.

Here it is.  Enjoy.


Vinyl

I remember that day just after graduation 1971 when it was urgent I leave my house, the place with an abusive brother and disbelieving parents. I called my girlfriends frantically, but not one was at home to save me. In a desperate move I called you, simply because I had your number handy. “Be there in five, Kathy,” was all you said when you heard my plea, and soon you arrived in your Chevy Nova, music blasting. When I got in the car you didn’t ask what was wrong, why I called or anything else: you simply said, “Let’s listen to Black Sabbath and inhale the rage of vinyl car seats,” immediately deflating my inner terror like a balloon.

Those words became a beacon for me as from that moment on we lived our lives together. High school gave way to the workforce: kids like us didn’t go to college. When the calendar turned 1980, the words from that night became part of your marriage proposal, and we wedded without telling a living soul. It always felt like it was us against the world, a compact unit, held together by rock and roll record albums, used cars, and cheap rent. We found it hard to let anyone else in, but eventually our tight unit would expand.

Then came that cold night in 1982 when our son came too early; we sat in my hospital room, shocked and hollowed out, wondering if he would survive, terrified he would not. There were no words. Days later, good news came, and weeks later we brought Tommy home. Climbing into our 1977 Chevelle, you said those magic words once again, the ones that always made me feel less afraid, and we carried our baby home on those vinyl seats, music quietly playing in the background. It would be a long time before you felt the need to say those words to me again.

The summer of 2006 Tommy brought Lisa to meet us, the girl he intended to marry, the one I felt was from a family way too much like my estranged one. My rejection served no purpose except to motivate them to elope in secret. When we received the news, I stood in the kitchen and sobbed for that loss, and so many others. You, Eddie, wrapped your arms around me and suggested we go for a ride. Once in the car, one decked out in leather seats, you cued “Paranoid,” and I knew that somehow everything would be okay.

Then the June day just after you retired, we knew something was wrong. We sat stunned in the doctor’s office, trying to absorb the news of an inoperable brain tumor. You vowed to fight, and I vowed to fight with you, no matter what it might take. The sun was setting as we walked across the clinic parking lot to our car, the lights coming on, a brilliant yellow moon rising above the trees, when I realized it was exactly 48 years to the day you first came to me. Unlocking the door, I leaned close to you and whispered, Let’s listen to Black Sabbath and inhale the rage of vinyl seats.

And your smile was a

Beacon in the night

Healing the terror

I felt inside.

Remember: A Collaborative Poem

Inspired by Joy Harjo
https://poets.org/poem/remember-0



REMEMBER

Remember when the moonlight filtered in through the bedroom window
bathing you in the confirming light of your decision. You knew if the
moon said yes, it had to be right.
Remember that moon and those evenings which sparkled
with wine, conversation, planning, and developing bonds.
Remember the glow lighting your way home,
a beacon of hope erasing the frustrations eating away at your soul,
creeping into those dark places where you were lost.
Remember that rainy Saturday morning when you felt
your creativity flowing and energy returning. The lightning
and thunder sparked bursts of brilliance and buoyancy.
Remember that Sunday when rays of sun punched through the black clouds,
inviting you to squeeze in a brisk walk before the sky turned dark again. You knew if the
sun said come out and play, you would heed the call.
Remember that moment you got news that rocked you to your very core,
but don't let yourself forget you came through it all, much like the
sun fighting to emerge from behind the thick clouds.
Remember too the time you received news that lifted your spirits, words you longed to hear
giving you the gifts of contentment and peace.
Remember you are the one who controls your action your energy your giving and receiving of love, the embodiment of all you want to be.
Remember you are one, a single being in an interdependent system of all living things, and you have the power to affect so much and so many.
Remember the syntax of spirit, the grammar of gratitude,
the rhythm of your footsteps on the path,
the pen scrawling across the page.
Remember you are all writers and all writers
are you.
Remember you are this story and this
story is you.
Remember to write it.

#56 The Best Gift -- Words of Wisdom

Here is the original prompt as written in Poets and Writers (July/August 2019).  Below it I wrote some suggested variations.

Fiction: The Best Gift
"We must believe in our souls that we are somebody, that we are significant, that we are worthful, and we must walk the streets of life every day with this sense of dignity and this sense of somebody-ness." In Colson Whitehead's seventh novel, The Nickel Boys, the protagonist, Elwood Curtis, replays these powerful words by Martin Luther King Jr. from a record album he received as a young boy in the early 1960s, which he considers "the best gift of his life." Throughout the book Elwood repeatedly refers to King's words as a source of guidance, inspiration, and morality. Write a short story in which your main character is similarly inspired by an important historical figure's words -- words of wisdom written or spoken by an artist, author, or activist. How did you character first come across the words? Are they comforting or provocative? Does the meaning or significance of the words change over time as the character evolves? #

Variations on the Theme
As Trail Brazens, I think we've already established that we never had to write in a specified genre. Feel free to parlay this into a memoir or poem or any other form that inspires you.

I encourage you to find a quote you have never worked with before. It does not have to be a super famous person. It can be any words spoken that could be useful wisdom.

I almost passed on this idea because I feel we have done things like this a lot. But I am hoping we can stretch in new directions.  Here is an example:

The other day Laurie posted a poem about words of wisdom that Mr. Williams used to speak to the girls at PACE. If someone wanted to use these words, there are many ways to approach. It could be a story about a girl who was inspired and lived her life better because of the words.  Or the opposite -- someone who forgot, suffered, and came back to the words later in life. It could be a memoir of how these words matter to you. Or it could be a narrative poem imagining a story about how Mr. Williams came to believe these words to be important, perhaps a childhood experience with the women in his life. There are so many different ways to take it. The words of wisdom might also be misinterpreted or misconstrued as a way to create kind of an anti-wisdom conflict. #

So even though I was concerned that this prompt might seem too ordinary to us, the more I thought about it the more I realized it could push us a little deeper.

Find the perfect quote. Get creative. Have fun!

Ishq

Response to prompt #55: A Word of Inspiration

Ishq

Hollywood always brings me back...
not your Hollywood;
no walk of fame, no red carpets, no Rodeo drive
just a South Florida city with the park, the beach,
an airport, and a less than dazzling downtown,
ever gentrifying like so many others
but it's our town, even 15 years after we left

And as we causally cruised through, rolling
20 mph, searching the diagonally slotted cars
parked along the storefronts,
once a magic shop and a gentleman's golf apparel store
now a Latin night club and shabby chic boutique
I went back in time

Did you know when you wanted to marry me
all the way back then, before you left?
Oh yeah, he replied without question
I wondered how he knew,
how he was so sure even then

And I thought about our wedding day
I can't be certain when I first knew
but on that day I did, and with every passing day
I still do, I'm more sure every day and every year

How has the time passed so quickly?
we are still teenagers, living the life
strolling downtown like big shots

I guess maybe I did know then
deep inside I always knew

My love, my friend, my partner