Sunrise @ Small Stories and Stuff

This is Sunday morning, but I'm pretending it's Saturday, as I am only now writing my Saturday Centus.  (Using the word "centus" very loosely this week), Jenny Matlock, our leader in these things, must have her knickers in a twist about something. She gave us only 15 words plus the prompt, which is "Before I die, I want to..."  Really?  The word centus denotes a hundred, doesn't it?  You can read all about the rules and read the other entries by clicking on the Saturday Centus button on my sidebar.  Be sure you take a look around Jenny's blog at ...off on my tangent...  You will find some great things there  

Nonplussed, I endeavor to carry on.  

Sunrise

Before I die

I want to ride

a dophin’s back

at sunrise in 

an ocean of peace.

© cj Schlottman

Happy Dance @ Small Stories and Stuff

This week’s Saturday Centus prompt from Jenny Matlock is, “Oh, say can you see..”  Jenny is cranky this week, so she is taking it out on us lowly Centusians, giving us only 25 words plus the five words in the prompt.  To find out more and learn the rules for this meme, please click on the Saturday Centus button in my sidebar.  You will also find the other entries there, so read them if you can.  And don’t forget to click over the Jenny’s blog, “...off on my tangent...” 

I’m not getting any younger 

but I woke up on the right side

of the grass today    danced a 

little happy jig and sang out loud 

“Hurray.”

© cj Schlottman

Danger Ahead - A Saturday Centus

I was flying to Houston to see my sort-of-maybe boyfriend.  I glanced up to the overhead message center, and the sign read, “fasten seat belt” and “no smoking.”

A rule follower, I had my seatbelt securely fastened over my lap and I wouldn’t think of smoking on an airplane.  Saturday Centus from 30,000 feet.  Cool.   I sipped Chardonnay and munched tiny pretzels, logged on the inflight WiFi and got down to business, writing this post.

We touched down in Denver, and he was waiting for me at baggage claim, handsome as ever, and a sign popped into my head, saying  “Danger Ahead.”

Proud To Be An American

This week’s Saturday Centus prompt from Jenny Matlock is, “Oh, say can you see..”  To find out more and learn the rules for this meme, please click on the Saturday Centus button in my sidebar.  You will also find the other entries there, so read them if you can.  And don’t forget to click over the Jenny’s blog, “...off on my tangent...”

So, here is my entry for this week:

Proud To Be An American  

The fireworks display was magnificent, truly beautiful bombs bursting in air - sparkles and flames of color lighting up the night. My family and I were stretched out on our backs on the beach, taking it all in and ooohing and aaahing with each new spectacular flash.  

When the presentation was over, we stood up on our towels and began to sing, “Oh, say can you see...” at the tops of our lungs.  Our untrained voices produced a cacophony of flat notes and missed high notes, but there we were, proud to be Americans even if our country is falling apart.

Maybe there is hope.




© cj Schlottman
July 2, 2011

Dear John

My Saturday Centus offering for our 60th week:

i may have to dear john

you before you are gone

arriving as you did

with your heart hidden

inside a business plan

a way for us to be

wealthy in our old age

rich is good my darling 

but kisses sweet and soft

outweigh your 401k

it is your heart I want

your hand enclosing mine

as we walk to market

© cj Schlottman

The Departure

It’s Saturday already, and that means “Saturday Centus” over at Jenny Matlock’s “...off on my tangent...”  This week we have the usual 100 words with which to write a piece based on the prompt “within the stone,” suggested by my good friend Jeff Campbell, whose blog, “Tennessee Mudbug,” is a favorite of mine.

Here’s my contribution.  

The Departure

within the stone cold heart 

of an old man lives  

leavings of love lost   years

of bitterness   faint 

memories of frozen

scorching   blinding anguish

he stands   stares   afflicted

with gloom   melancholy

plagued   undone   wreaking

revulsion of his wrongs

he raises the knife

to his chest   falls on it

black blood oozes through his

shirt   spills onto the floor

leaves a pool of rancor

across the squeaky clean

floor of the nursing home

(I must be channeling Edgar Allan Poe.  That's my only excuse, cj).

The Wall @ Small Stories and Stuff

I know School Marm, Jenny Matlock, likes to see stories and poems on Saturday Centus, but this week’s prompt, “The wall was built long ago,” led me toward a small personal essay. To learn all about Saturday Centus, please click on the button on my sidebar. You can't miss it!

Here is my offering for this week.

I visited the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall on Veteran’s Day, 1993, the year the Women's Memorial was dedicated. Clint met with some of the people from his unit, the field hospital in Saigon. During 13 months together, they cared for young GIs, sending some to R&R, others home in body bags.

I was overwhelmed by the simplicity of the wall, engraved as it is with thousands of names, it stretched gracefully across the grass.

It was hot, dozens of people milling around, many of them openly weeping, searching for names of loved ones lost. The directory led me to the name I had come to see - Lamar Smith - dead just two months after deployment, right out of high school.

Lamey, as we called him, was a dear boy. Senior year, he had a crush on me and when I had my appendix out, he came every day after school to sit with me in hospital.

I wept as I traced his name.

He was not “college material,” and if he had lived, he would likely have gone to work for one of the local plants, but he may have come home motivated to persue a loftier career. He never had the chance to know.

© cj Schlottman

Addendum: When you go to The Wall, please also visit the Women's Memorial, a moving bronze of nurses ministering to a wounded soldier, a monument to their dedication and perseverance. I'm sorry it took so long for the Memorial to be erected. 250,000 women served in Vietnam - every one of them a volunteer.