Ad Libitum

Thunder and lightning and hail -- oh my!

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-06-25T23:16:00Z

Lightning flashes, thunder rolls, and the guy bagging my groceries jokes about it being the end of the world (what with the hail and flooding to go along with the storm).

It's always a surprise when the clear blue sky that winked and assured you on your way to the store has, once you enter and start to shop, abandoned you to the darkness of deep storm. What a bait and switch.

My main concern, as thunder sounds like canned goods on a conveyor belt and hail rattles the windows sounding like all the rice in the world dumped out of one gigantic bag, is making sure my daughter, who at fourteen is old enough to be left at home from this shopping trip, isn't frightened by herself in the midst of all this mercurial melodrama. Having done that (no she is not frightened -- she is actually thrilled with the beauty of the storm as it flashes across the sky light and the windows), I turn my thoughts to the task of running through the rain with plastic bags of groceries in hand.

It's nothing really -- the trouble of doing so -- when you think that I do have food in these storm proof plastic bags and I have a car to run to and then a home to drive to after that. I sit in the car for a while, thinking of all the rain storms I have seen in my life (and being from Florida, I've seen more than my fair share) and thinking: what a gift it is to be able to see one again. Life is beautiful.

Flashlights and hurricane lamps are spectacles, necessary glasses in storm-prone Florida, if you will, that I have put aside. I left them behind in my move to Minnesota. Now, I long to pick them up once more and use them to read the storm in the way I was once accustomed to. There is something primal and satisfying in riding out a storm and getting by without electricity -- with a cold meal and candlelight -- seeing everyday things transformed through the lens of storm illumination.

Once I get home and hug my daughter, the day couldn't get much better for me. We watch the sky with the lights out.

June issue of InTheFray Magazine

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-06-14T03:36:00Z

Image courtesy of Ellywa

In this month's issue of InTheFray Magazine, Imagine contributor, B. Tyler Burton, takes you for a walk you wont likely forget in his short story, The Stream.

Also in this issue, Stella Chung takes a journey through China's Hainan province in The two Sanyas. In An uncle breaks the silence, Michelle Chen tells of how her parents and her uncle live with the latter's diagnosis of schizophrenia.We finish this month's issue with Amy O'Loughlin's review of Eduardo Galeano's book Mirrors.

Whiskey tags and purple bloom

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-06-04T20:23:00Z

Prairie phlox and purple loosestrife, field thistle and bittersweet nightshade...

When I was a child bedeviled by freckles, I was told that they were kisses from the sun. I took that with all of the natural disgust that would come to anyone so patronized.

Now, all grown up and with most of my sun love-tokens faded, I am charmed by the description and can't help but think of it when I see the fields here in Minnesota sporting flowers like freckles -- multitudinous and undisguisable -- kisses from the sun.

My early morning commute includes rolling fields of purple flowers climbing up and down the hills that run alongside me like faithful hounds and the rush hour cars look like herds of mechanical animals in migration.

On this morning's drive, my daughter crows with triumph at having spotted (in her usual morning license plate game) a big point winner -- a "whiskey plate".

She tells me that whiskey plates, she heard from her dad, are issued by the state to identify DUI/DWI drivers to make surveillance of them easier and that police are empowered to pull them over at any time.

A process by which the state issues a specially coded license plate to DUI/DWI drivers to make surveillance of them easier for law enforcement officers? Does that sound like an urban legend to you? It did to me.

Looking it up online with the intent to show her that whiskey plates are nothing more than an urban legend proved to be educational -- for me.

Surprise!

Image courtesy of Examiner.com

Whiskey plates are real and have been around for a while. They have inspired discussion boards and debate, both online and in the real, legislative world. What do you think? Are they an invasion of privacy? A violation of rights? An ineffective slap on the wrist to repeat offenders who should not be driving at all? A cost-effective way to monitor repeat offenders while allowing them the privilege of driving?

Links of interest

Minnesota Wild Flowers: Purple
What do whiskey plates in Minnesota look like?
Minnesota Lawyers: Whiskey Plates in Minnesota
Interesting discussion about Minnesota plates
Whiskey Plates, Public Humiliation?
Smiley face plate retired

Weird plates and license plate art:

Florida Jesus plate: Source

Kentucky "Teletubbies-look" plate: Source

License plate handbag

Superman license plate art

License plate map

sweet summer day

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-06-01T17:45:00Z

By Annette Marie Hyder

latticework leaves tendril the sky
casting shadows
like the sly half-mast of lashes
curled against the soft cheek of the grass

the brook arches an eyebrow
and slips its arms around the whole scene
whispering to the woods and the field to come away
come away, on a sweet summer day

(It's not officially summer until the 21st but it feels like summer has arrived here in Minnesota .)

Memorial Day

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-05-31T14:30:00Z

“Here rests in honored glory an American soldier known but to God.”
Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Arlington National Cemetery

The Cannon of Those Who Have Gone Down Before Us
Annette Marie Hyder

Our soldiers lie under blankets
that are made of hard cold ground
they rest their eyes on a dark-some sky
in chambers without sound.

The clean kiss of dirt
has swallowed them down and cast
from 'ashes to ashes and dust to dust'
to their final bed at last.

But it is still remembered
that theirs was the hero's way
The memory shines brightly
on this 31st day of May .

Remembrances are candles lit
against the death of being forgot.
These fighters of ours were flesh and blood
whether tin soldiers or not.

Every tombstone is a witness,
every flag a shout to those who can hear
that the dead are not forsaken
though buried now for years.

Those who have fallen in service
drum their names to us in the way
that they are in our beating hearts --
live on in vessels of clay.

We tuck them in close and tight.
We shoot fireworks off in the night.
We party and picnic and shout and cavort.
We celebrate and our day is a fort

that shakes with the gunpowder
of our feelings, with the cannon -- louder --
of those who have gone down before us
to save the ones at home.

Memorial Day

Originally called Decoration Day, Memorial Day is a day of remembrance for those who have died in our nation's service.

Have you seen the many people out and about in the graveyards? I've had occasion to drive by three graveyards (none of these was a military graveyard) since this past Friday and in each one I saw graves being tended and cared for and mementos being left.

I don't usually notice graveyards. They lie quiet along the way, are empty of movement, avoid my gaze easily. So of course I can't help but notice when there are so many people thronging through a place usually desolate by day or by night. I guess Memorial Day leads people to think of their dead loved ones whether they were in the military or not. I think that is a good thing.

My sister tells me that red poppies signify remembrance for the fallen soldiers and refers me to a story about how Moina Michael, inspired by the poem, In Flander's Field, conceived of the idea to wear poppies to honor the fallen soldiers.

The Memorial Day History site reports:

In 1915, inspired by the poem "In Flanders Fields," Moina Michael replied with her own poem. She then conceived of an idea to wear red poppies on Memorial day in honor of those who died serving the nation during war. She was the first to wear one, and sold poppies to her friends and co-workers with the money going to benefit servicemen in need. Later a Madam Guerin from France was visiting the United States and learned of this new custom started by Ms.Michael and when she returned to France, made artificial red poppies to raise money for war orphaned children and widowed women. This tradition spread to other countries. In 1921, the Franco-American Children's League sold poppies nationally to benefit war orphans of France and Belgium. The League disbanded a year later and Madam Guerin approached the VFW for help. Shortly before Memorial Day in 1922 the VFW became the first veterans' organization to nationally sell poppies. Two years later their "Buddy" Poppy program was selling artificial poppies made by disabled veterans. In 1948 the US Post Office honored Ms Michael for her role in founding the National Poppy movement by issuing a red 3 cent postage stamp with her likeness on it.

So if you see red poppies being worn, that is the reason why.

In Flanders Fields
John McCrae, 1915

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Moina Michael's reply:

We cherish too, the Poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led,
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies.

Links of interest:
American Widow Project (This one is via my sister)
American Legion
Flag rules and regulations
Final Deployment (poem)
Headstones Are a Fitting Metaphor (poem)

Happy Birthday Jasmine Rain!

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-05-24T13:09:00Z

Jasmine Rain's Poem

By Annette Marie Hyder

If flowers could talk they would whisper your name.
If happiness were water we would know it as rain.

Jasmine flowers lower their lashes to the night
Wink at the sun and sparkle when drenched
Like tiny disco balls in fields full of rain.

All the flowers in their swards thrum
As the wind tickles them gently
Getting them to hum honey-ly and sing

The rain down from on high --
Jasmine Rain.

Storm blossoms pelt pell-mell
Then float away
Spinning like paper umbrella wishes

That lilt like lazy benedictions
On the breeze
And leave contrails

Of perfume lingering in the green
Freshly woken world.

Wind eye dazzled

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-04-07T18:28:00Z

tanka with kigo
Annette Marie Hyder

sunset paints windows
of the apartment building,
transforms rows of glass

into art on the tall walls:
a reflecting gallery

Windows

Windows: for climbing as well as looking out of, for closing against the cold, for fastening against the night, for surveillance out of and for peeking into. When the colors from a sunset dazzle windowpanes, transforming them into works of art hung on the sides of buildings, I always think of the origin of the word window:

From Wikipedia

The word Window originates from the Old Norse ‘vindauga’, from ‘vindr –wind’ and ‘auga – eye’, i.e. "wind eye". In Norwegian Nynorskand Icelandic the Old Norse form has survived to this day (in Icelandic only as a less used synonym to gluggi), in Swedish the word vindöga remains as a term for a hole through the roof of a hut, and in the Danish language ‘vindue’ and Norwegian Bokmål ‘vindu’, the direct link to ‘eye’ is lost,just like for 'window'. The Danish (but not the Bokmål) word is pronounced fairly similar to window.
Window is first recorded in the early 13th century, and originally referred to an unglazed hole in a roof. Window replaced the Old English‘eagþyrl’, which literally means ‘eye-hole,’ and ‘eagduru’ ‘eye-door’.Many Germanic languages however adopted the Latin word ‘fenestra’ to describe a window with glass, such as standard Swedish ‘fönster’, or German ‘Fenster’. The use of window in English is probably due to the Scandinavian influence on the English language by means of loanwords during the Viking Age. In English the word fenester was used as a parallel until the mid-1700s and fenestration is still used to describe the arrangement of windows within a facade.

From Webster's 1828 Dictionary, Window, n. [ G. The vulgar pronunciation is windor, as if from the Welsh gwyntdor, wind-door.]

Links of interest

Throughout history, whether primitive holes in the wall, mullioned lead and glass windows, paper windows (China, Korea and Japan), flattened pieces of translucent animal horn (14th century Northern Britain), or plates of thinly sliced marble, windows have protected the inhabitants from the elements and transmitted light. Wikipedia

The stained glass windows of a certain church came to life at night in George Macdonald's At the Back of the North Wind. Click here for free (in the United States) At the Back of the North Wind eBook formats at The Gutenberg Project, or here for editions through Amazon.com

According to Acts 20:7-12, during Paul’s third journey he preached an exceptionally long sermon in Traos. A young man, sitting in an upstairs window sill, went to sleep and fell out the window. He was thought to be dead, but Paul revived him.

The nine most famous windows in history
Windows on the World Restaurant
Images of famous windows

April issue of Empowerment4Women Magazine

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-04-06T14:51:00Z

Artwork by EmilyHabermehl

The new issue of Empowerment4Women Magazine is up! Check out this awesome issue filled with wit and wisdom from poets and writers and art that kisses your eyes.

I have four poems in this issue: Branches fret, Dark Wings on White Skies, Spirits on the Wind and Skeleton Keys (photo credit Jasmine Rain Hyder), and a photoem entitled Spring Tanka.

There are new Facing Feminism: Feminists I Know photoems up: 78. Jessie, 79. Helen, 80. Nicole, 81. Michelle, 82. Ren, 83. Belinda, 84. Marysia, 85. Jane.

In addition to viewing their photoems at the Photoem Gallery at Empowerment4Women Magazine, you can view them at the project site at mnartists.org (just click on any photoem to enlarge and search by number) and check out these contributor's websites:

Jessie Carty's blog and Referential Magazine
Helen Losse's Windows Toward the World and Dead Mule School of Southern Literature
Ren Powell.com
Belinda Subraman.com
Jane Ormerod.com

Damp spring

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-04-05T18:13:00Z

Image Public Domain, Gutenberg Project

RSVP
Annette Marie Hyder

this weather -- so damp --
it's a postage stamp licked a little
too enthusiastically
and affixed to the envelope
that holds the letter
just begging Spring to come
her presence is sorely missed

roots are the sprawling cursive
writing that spells out her address
the smudges are impatience
red wax of hope's been sealed
and pressed

Link of interest:
Do I Need an Umbrella?

Easter baskets

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-04-04T16:56:00Z

Some are just naturally happier about Easter than others:

Image courtesy of absentfromthepresent at Deviantart

Hope this day was a happy one for you!

tanka with kigo
Annette Marie Hyder

pagan beliefs line
the overflowing basket
like soft easter grass

filaments of heathen myths
cushion christianity

little match girl

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-04-03T03:02:00Z

By Annette Marie Hyder

little ragamuffin girl
selling matches in the cold
each match a story that flares briefly
against the bold
bleakness

if matches are stories
in this analogy
it doesn't mean they don't have
utility
starving for her art
she watches

others
light their cigarettes,
their candles and lamps
and fireplace kindling
with her wares

she has all she needs
to start a fire of her own
but can't get past peddling
her gift
down to the bone

she imagines pinching
blue, pinching orange
off the match heads
like pinching daisies off
their stems

tossing lit ones like small
gem-struck birds
to spread their ember wings
and float up
or sizzle on the ground --
taillights of afterthought

she lights the nights
in other's lives
while window pressing with her nose
and standing on her tippy-toes

while she is living vicariously
her own spark blows out
peremptorily

205th Birthday of Hans Christian Andersen

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-04-02T06:55:00Z

Photo by Franz Hanfstaengl, Public Domain

Benjamin W. Wells described Hans Christian Andersen (rather unkindly I think) thusly:

In personal appearance he was limp, ungainly, awkward, and odd, with long lean limbs, broad flat hands, and feet of striking size. His eyes were small and deep-set, his nose very large, his neck very long; but he masked his defects by studied care in dress, and always fancied he looked distinguished, delighting to display his numerous decorations on his evening dress in complacent profusion.

But it is not for the size of his nose or the cut of his suit that he is remembered. It is for the many stories and characters he created: The Steadfast Tin Soldier, The Ugly Duckling, The Nightingale, The Emperor's New Clothes, The Little Match Girl, The Little Mermaid,Thumbelina,The Snow Queen, and many more -- Hans Christian Andersen's literary creations have become bywords and symbols that immediately convey such diverse archetypes as the outsider, the brave and noble warrior, sycophantic yessing subordinates, unattainable perfection and the self-sacrificing heroine.

Hans Christian Andersen's birthday is also celebrated as International Children's Book Day. You can read about ICBD here.

Here's a poem in celebration of the 205th birthday of Hans Christian Anderson and some great links that give a closer reading of the page that was his life.

Image courtesy of toomuchcoffee at DevianArt

Ugly Duckling
From the book The Real Reason the Queen Hated Snow (and Other Stories)
Annette Marie Hyder

It never stops
amazing me
how my insecurities
and needy-needs
work magic
every time and always
on the worst --
feathering regal prime prince swans
before my myth-taken eyes
from the ugliest Ugly Duckings

Links of interest:

Hans Christian Andersen: Father of the Modern Fairy Tale (Excellent article by Terri Windling)
Hans Christian Andersen stories at The Gutenberg Project
Wikipedia entry for Hans Christian Andersen
Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales on postage stamps (From around the world and quite beautiful. Click on country link and then on stamp to enlarge.)
The Home of Hans Christian Andersen
Hans Christian Andersen Books at Amazon.com

Happy National Poetry Month!

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-04-01T14:22:00Z

April is National Poetry Month and here is a poem to celebrate that and the cheerful sunshine streaming through my windows:

lemon juice invisible ink
Annette Marie Hyder

kittens play in yellow bars of sunshine --
the heat shows up all the faintest squiggles and spots
on their glossy, secret-code fur

Links of interest:

How to make invisible ink
The color yellow
National Poetry Month
Poets.org

Poem a day

Interested in writing a poem a day? Over at the Poetic Asides blog there's a month long project with the aim of participants doing that very thing (or at least to have fun trying). From Robert at Poetic Asides:

The basics: I provide a prompt and sample poem each morning (Georgia, USA, time). Then, poets write their poems in response to the prompt. Poets from all over the world can (and have in the past) participate. There is no fee, no registration, no pressure. This challenge is all about writing poetry and having fun.

Those who have participated in the past have ranged from poets who have published multiple collections to writers who have never written poetry before. It's also included many poets who haven't written poetry in years. And many poems written for these challenges have then gone on to be published in poetry journals and magazines.

Windows open!

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-03-14T18:25:00Z

The first time that you can open your windows here in Minnesota and let the breezes swirl in is truly a rite of spring!

your vote
tanka with kigo
Annette Marie Hyder

open windows are
glass-paned protester's signage
winter out! spring in!

the long sit-in didn't work
but warm temps are full of win

Spirits on the wind and skeleton keys

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-03-10T17:34:00Z

Photo by Jasmine Rain Hyder

spirits on the wind and with a noise --
Annette Marie Hyder

like knuckle bones rattling in a tin cup
like shivers written with silver music --
comes the rain against the pane

while each windy wail huffs like hot breath
leaving condensation on blurred windows
(the eyes of the house are clogged with tears)

the clouds, dark hood, hang over the building's head
and chill is a skeleton key
that can open any door
(hinges creak and loose boards tremble in this downpour)

but the heart of the home glows --
every light in the place turned on --
and matches strike a ready pose

in case candle cannon is called for
to blast away darkness when electricity fails
in such a tempest onslaught of bad-dream-storm

March issue of InTheFray Magazine

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-03-08T17:28:00Z

The new issue of InTheFray Magazine is out

Imagine contributor, Terry Lowenstein of Charlotte, North Carolina, has three poems in this issue: as time waits to exhale, fractured reality, unfretted.

March hare and Eire green

The poet wanders through Carrollian vistas of wonderland and the aching hills of Inis Fáil. Click on the Imagine link to read these poems. Click on the main link to explore this month's issue more.

March is Women's History Month

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-03-01T19:43:00Z

A great deal of information and inspiration can be found at the Womens' History Month (Library of Congress) site. Check it out and Happy Women's History Month!

NASA planet symbols: Sun, Mercury, Venus, Earth, Moon, Mars,
Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto. Image courtesy of NASA

woman is a pagan
Annette Marie Hyder

object of wonder
the magical influence
of a star

wish on her body/person
put her on a pedestal
perched up high --
pin her to the sky

but she is always ready
to fling herself down
in crashing, shooting glory
the fire of a sun
informs her nature
she shines

what is woman's intuition
but the incense smoke
of starlit insight
what does a woman want
but stardust and influence --
to exercise her nature

she personifies venus
bending
she leans over mars, sinking
but she is also
always rising

Many-trunked fortress of spring

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-02-24T02:21:00Z

Photo taken on Kellogg Blvd. in St. Paul, MN

branches fret
Annette Marie Hyder

twine their legion fingers
and wring their bark-skinned hands
with a cold like this
even the twigs tremble
sap freezes
in the vein-stemmed interior
and the heart of spring
heretofore impregnable and unassailable
falters momentarily
in its many-trunked fortress.

I think of trees, with their sap filled trunks as strongholds against the cold of winter preserving the heartbeat of spring -- no matter how faint. The trees, evergreen and deciduous alike, are a many-trunked fortress and to wander through a forest in winter is to twine through time suspended. It's warming to know that the sap will rise, springtime will break free from well-meaning restraints of dark bark and warding wood, will come forth like a butterfly from the hard protective covering of its chrysalis and kiss those stalwart towers with pennant leaves and flowers.

February issue of InTheFray Magazine

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-02-10T17:55:00Z

Pomegranates, singing telephones and night's cloak

Imagine contributor, Mark Anthony Murphy of West Yorkshire, England, has three poems in the new issue that speak to love, loss and recovery: Pomegranate, Silver ring, The crossing.

Click on the Imagine link to read these poems. Click on the main link to explore this month's issue more.

Dog on a roof

Annette Marie Hyder — 2010-02-01T17:30:00Z

Image courtesy Kare11 News

I haven't been up on a roof in a while but I especially remember enjoying the get-away properties inherent in our flat-roofed house in Palma Sola, Florida. My older sister called in vain for me to come and do the dishes. I was happily ensconced with a blanket and book and wouldn't reemerge for hours (or until the dishes were done without me). I also had a favorite tree that I climbed that combined the same escape advantage with an excellent reading perch.

Well here is a story about a dog here in Minnesota whose love of climbing up on roofs lies in far more industrious motivations. Hayley, a golden retriever feels that she is part of the DeMars construction crew and 'climbs a ladder as well as any other member of the crew.'

Kare11 News reports:

MANKATO, Minn. -- It's the slow time of year for the construction business, but when your public relations representative is a Golden Retriever named Hayley, jobs for DeMars Construction in Mankato seem to come a little easier.

No short of unusual, Hayley brings to the table a skill unlike any other dog-gone carpenter.

Hayley is able to climb up a ladder as well as any other on the team.

"She's one of the guys, part of the crew," said owner Max DeMars, who by the way is not directly related to the author of this story.

And like the crew, Hayley too can handle a two-by-four.

Since she was a pup, Hayley, now 10 years old, follows the crew wherever they go.

"One day we were up on the roof and there she was," explained DeMars. "Saying what about me."

After hundreds of jobs over the years, she's got a pretty good handle on climbing up the ladder, even when nobody else is up on the roof.

One cold January day her solo trip nearly got her in some hot water.

The crew was working on an addition for the Hosanna Lutheran Church in Mankato when a neighbor spotted her on top of the building.

The neighbor called police and a short time later an officer arrived.

Continue reading the story
Watch the video

Links of interest:
Rooftop Ice Skating Rink
Rooftops and Urban Agriculture
Lyrics to 'Up On the Roof' sung by James Taylor, Lyrics by Gerry Goffin - Carole King