"FOR THE DURATION"
By now all of you are
weathering the constraints
placed on us in this
coronavirus pandemic.
When will it be over?
--------------
Back in WWII we had an expression
"For the Duration"
Some foods were rationed,
like sugar and coffee.
All you young folks can’t even
like sugar and coffee.
All you young folks can’t even
imagine how we
RECYCLED!!
Grease, newspapers, tin foil wrappers
from cigarette packs, sticks of
chewing gum, and tooth paste tubes.
Even bubble gum was rationed!!
------------
We, Brown High Classmates of 1954
weathered that Storm.
To my classmates,
I send you love
from your classmate of 1954
Charlotte Ashurst.
Stay healthy and safe.
Stay healthy and safe.
——
(a.k.a Chip McDaniel)
—-
I’ve been living in my
Retirement Apartment
for six months now.
I brought my keyboard, movie star photos
and strung up colored lights.
I've been playing in a Ukulele band.
Our Staff is keeping us safe from the
coronavirus.
Meals are delivered to our
rooms now.
Visitation is limited.
I’ve managed to finish a book
LOVE YOUR FATE:
A Poetic Odyssey
——
What if your life
came down to one book of poems?
What would they say?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Love Your Fate takes you on a poetic journey of eighty years. These poems connect defining moments that led to an understanding of lifelong sadness and pain. Scenes depict wartime ration books, streetcars, singing on live TV, theater, marriage, children, divorce, the Women’s Movement, job at forty, early retirement, then finding the lost self through art, music, and poetry, and lastly, reflections on aging as part of the human condition.
===
First PROOFS arrive!!!
Love Your Fate:
A Poetic Odyssey
is up on
Amazon!
(paperback and ebook)
I worked hard to
transform the essence
of my memoir,
Girdled and Gloved:
From Radio to Youtube
into a narrative poetic
storyline.
=====
Here’s a sample poem:
Jeep Rides
Oh, how I wanted to earn a Victory badge
to be part of the war effort,
so I collected empty Lucky Strike packs
at the streetcar stop.
I hunted for chewing gum wrappers by the curbs,
stripping off the tinfoil.
Mother saved the Ipana toothpaste tube.
Grandma saved her tin cans.
I smashed them fiercely
with a big hammer on a flat stone,
then stuffed them in an orange mesh bag.
Finally I have enough grease and newspapers
and mashed-up ball of tin
to earn a Victory badge plus a Lieutenant’s ribbon.
Our principal, Miss Kendrick says we will
soon get a Jeep ride with soldiers from Ft. McPherson.
One fine morning our teacher lines us up two by two
marching us outside just as a convoy
of Army jeeps drives onto our dusty playground.
We seven-year-olds are wild with excitement.
Two soldiers grab my arms, lift me up,
slinging me in the back seat
like a sack of potatoes.
They drive us straight off the curb
bouncing us up and down
like Mexican jumping beans.
We wave at people standing in their walkways.
They wave back, as if we’ve just returned from the war.
In my head I hear a marching band
playing The Stars and Stripes Forever.
Thanks for reading this:
Here’s a link to my book:
====
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