Bareoot Artist, Lily Yeh

Hello Mid-January!

Another arctic blast is chilling things down in my little part of the world...and here I am trying to get to know my OLW for '25, barefoot. Hmmmmmm.

I've had to turn to google for some searching of places where barefoot might not necessarily mean warm enough to remove one's shoes. Hmmmmm

Lily Yeh calls herself a Barefoot Artist. She gave a TedTalk about her work in April of '24.

https://www.ted.com/talks/lily_yeh_how_art_transforms_brokenness_into_beauty?utm_campaign=tedspread&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=tedcomshare

I imagine the term 'barefoot' comes from the Chinese description of someone with little training and few professional resources going out into the countryside to help people that have very little. Ms. Yeh's talk was fascinating and I'm so glad I listened to her.

After listening to the talk, I downloaded the transcript and sculpted poetic lines from it. I'm not sure it's a poem...but I like how it sounds and leads me to a new understanding of barefoot.

Flee this World

place home in
something essential
light
small
children’s laughter
joy

The world found broken
missing wisdom
compassion
endurance

Barefoot reality
walks in silence
safekeeping
the bone chamber
loved ones home

Dandelion School
perfect for color, joy
life, exaltation and happiness

A barefoot artist
creates with broken canvases
people’s stories the palette.
Fire in a winter’s night
yearns for this
now more than ever.
Embrace the broken
into beauty.

Words found by Linda Mitchell 1/17/25

Thank you, Tricia Stohr-Hunt for hosting this week's Poetry Friday round-up at The Miss Rhumphius Effect.

Bare Feet

Hello Friends,

It's Friday--and time for some poetry! Thank you, Kat for hosting our round-up this week. Send us some sun, girl. I've been stuck in frozen snow and ice for days. No school this week until tomorrow on a delayed opening. I can't complain. I've caught up on some "me time."

https://famouspaintings.com/featured/the-washerwoman-kazimir-malevich.html

Bare Feet

Are foundation

to her scaffold of bones,

sinew, muscle

working shoulders,

pounding hands,

scrubbing fingers,

throaty hum.

This is the first

and best part

of a day.

Scents of sweat,

work, worry, and play

rise from steam

as washerwoman

coaxes soap into seams,

collars, peaks and,

valleys of laundry.

This copper wash tub
matches her strength,

paints her forearms

and knuckles with patina.

She is industry with heart

making clean what higher born
but weaker made souls
have soiled.
She is necessary
glad to be of use
and the coin she earns 

from washing.

drafty draft -- Linda Mitchell 1/10/25

Happy New Year 2025!

Good Thursday Morning, Friends!

I have been out in hiking shoes exploring a new-to-me part of the world. 

My husband and I escaped to  New Mexico, Land of Enchantment, this week between Christmas and New Year. I loved every second of our travel (even the delays) and am just getting back and settled. 

Thumbnails of several great travel moments. Dec. '24. Linda Mitchell

Thank you, Margaret at Reflections on the Teche, for managing Spiritual Journey Thursday and hosting our first post of 2025.

Thank you, Mary Lee at A(noth)er Year of Reading for managing our Poetry Friday schedule and hosting our first round-up of this new year.

I had quite a time choosing One-Little-Word for 2025. There were several contenders and, I even started idea banks for a few. But frankly, after the election of '24, some of the words lost their sparkle. 

More than serious thought, my spirit needs a bit of whimsy and play in 2025. Between November and December 30th, I narrowed my choices down to two and without explanation presented both words to two family members. They both chose the same word. If it had been a coin-toss this word would have won. 

My word for 2025 is...

Barefoot Young Girl Wearing Dress and Hat; Fake Beach Scenery in Background. Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/2002711742/>.

Barefoot and I are just getting to know each other. I look forward to the fun we'll have. And, I'm excited to see what words other poets and friends have chosen.

2025 Arrives

Barefoot Cinderella after midnight. On tiptoes in the threshold  humming a tune not yet ready for sleep.

I pad to the kitchen, 

light a flame under the kettle.

Pull cups from the cupboard,

make space at my table

for whatever fairy tales

stories or poetry New Year brings.

Linda Mitchell--draft

As it turns out, barefoot and the poem above also fits the bill for this month's inkling challenge from Heidi to select a Yuletide prompt to respond to. 

To see other Inkling responses to this challenge, please visit:

Heidi @my juicy little universe
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Margaret @Reflections on the Teche

Catherine is taking this week off. Hugs to her!

Gifts of the Season

Hello Friends,

Thank you, Jone, for hosting this weekend's Poetry Friday. 

What lovely, lovely poetry swaps I received this December. I'm grateful for the swap and the smiles they bring.

Tricia sent gifts of a poem, handmade notebook and zippered pouch and exquisite shell ornament. I'm traveling over the holidays and this notebook is now my travel journal. I look forward to sharing what comes from it.

Tricia's poem is a found haiku ( a favorite activity of mine--hunting for the right syllable count in an existing text). And, look! She used my OLW for '24, WORLD. It was a sweet and thoughtful package.

This is a Good World (found by Tricia Stohr-Hunt)

Found haiku from The Show is Deep on the Ground
by Kenneth Patchen

I

snow is beautiful
moving in its whiteness
this is a good world

II

God shall not forget us
lights of heaven glow softly
the sky knows our love

Sigh....just beautiful. Thank you, Tricia

And, I also received some FUN from Sarah. She read my post last week and packed an envelope full of stickers and postcards (which I love!) and a super fun limerick. It's a much needed smile and giggle the day before winter break. Thank you, Sarah!

A Limerick for Linda

There once was a girl at a zoo
who caused a hullabaloo--
she gave a bassoon 
to every baboon,
and horns to each chimpanzee too!

Sarah Grace Tuttle

Such a blast! I can't wait to use stickers on snail mail & school!

Poetry Friday is Here! Let's Play!

Hello Poets!

Do you know that one of my more fascinating traits is getting stuck in serious mode? Oooof! It's truly an old schoolmarm demeanor that takes over my whole self.  People I adore have tried to jolly me out of it my whole life (for some reason that makes it worse). It's not until I realize that I'm stuck that I can start to work out of too-serious-mode.

One of the best things about poetry, for me, is play! I love to take two or more poems and mash them together in interesting combinations. This form of poetry is called cento. 

Here are some playful mash-ups from my December journal...

The Owl and Pussycat at Christmas

I saw three ships come sailing in

On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day

The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea
in a beautiful pea-green boat,

I saw three ships come sailing in

On Christmas Day in the morning

They took some honey, and plenty of money,
wrapped up in a five-pound note.

And what was in those ships all three

On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day?

The Owl looked up to the stars above,
and sang to a small guitar,

I saw three ships come sailing in On Christmas Day in the morning

I Saw Three Ships from lyricfind

The Owl and the Pussycat by Edward Lear Source: The Random House Book of Poetry for Children (1983)

Playing with Anne Sexton's Just Once

I'm dreaming tonight of a place I love

Just once I knew what life was for.
In Boston, quite suddenly, I understood:

Even more than I usually do

Walked there along the Charles River,
watched the lights copying themselves,
all neoned and strobe-hearted, opening

their mouths as wide as opera singers;

And although I know it's a long road back

I promise you

counted the stars, my little campaigners,
My scar daisies, and knew that I walked my love
On the night green side of it and cried
my heart to the eastbound cars and cried
my heart to the westbound cars and took

I'll be home for Christmas

You can count on me
my truth across a small humped bridge
and hurried my truth, the charm of it, home

Please have snow and mistletoe

And presents under the tree

and hoarded these constants into morning

Christmas Eve will find me

Where the love light gleams

only to find them gone.

I'll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams.

I'll be Home for Christmas Source: Musixmatch
Anne Sexton's Just Once source: https://allpoetry.com/Just-Once 

I hope you are finding some fun in this holiday season...joy can be infectious!

Add your poetry links to your comments below and have fun reading some poetry over the weekend.

Thanks for being patient during my jolly holly activities -- delaying my round-up hostess duties! There are a big bunch of poems to savor from this week's offerings. Enjoy!

Mary Lee has written a gorgeous golden shovel that puts her in great conversation with Miss Dickinson

Jama entices with a question that MUST be answered with NO! 

Alan offers two delightful poems packed with pretty words and their origins

Michelle has popped in from her busy teaching schedule with a delightful squirrel poem

Jane is still a mystery to me as I can't get her link to work yet. Jane, can you repost your link? please

Tabatha considers altruism and bravery. She invites new poems from us all for a new collection

Jan is my hero for gratitude and playful poetry--those lub-a-dubs!

Margaret somehow makes poem making look effortless as she composes on the fly

Cat tried to be anonymous...but she's now too famous! Short poem from her :)

Marci brings us memories of legendary Nikki Giovanni...missing that lady already!

Jone is also remembering Giovanni and inviting us all to a Postcard Swap (do it!)

Tricia is having fun with this year's poetry swap :)

Matt is keeping up his publishing pace with the last anthology news of 2024. Go, Matt, Go!

Linda B. is recommending a lovely book that led her to poeming about the moon and stories

Rose is inspired by Write Bites

Heidi is also remembering beloved Nikki Giovanni...let's swing on rainbows with her

Irene is sharing snow pie!

Amy has snow! Yippee!

Carol V. takes a lesson from Kenn Nesbitt's poetry for a wonderful Santa poem

Molly asks a wonderful, wistful question...'What Shall I Pack in the Box Marked Winter?'

SJT. Wintering

Hello Sojourners,

I admit that I'm having a hard time keeping up with all the reading I usually do. This season is busy -- but happily so with friends and family face to face. I have been remembering to be grateful for being able to physically be with people. Remember four years ago? We were about to plunge into isolation and didn't even know it yet.

That isolation during Covid's worst days was a kind of cruel wintering. I'm so glad to be on this side of it.

This poem was tapping at my brain on a drive to work this week. I love it when that happens. I hope to catch up with all your blogs as soon as I can...maybe even Christmas Day when there will be delicious time of quiet as my adult children sleep in and the cats and I are up early.

I wish you good wintering.

Wintering

If all the poems were of summer

there would be

no wintering blankets 

of hush

piled high this season.

No red cardinal hearts

beating against snow

giving grief a rest

in spaces of joy.

If all the poems were of summer there would be  no rush of shivery piney boughs or cups of cocoa to sip  after coming in from the cold.

If all the poems were of summer you would have less reason to return, from a big busy world home safe and sound  as smoke from our chimney climbs as high and as blue as December stars. 

Linda Mitchell--draft 12/24

Der Winter. [No Date Recorded on Shelflist Card] Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/2003680992/>.

A Whole World as Nourishment

Welcome December Poets,

I'm a bit stunned that we are here closing out 2024.  I feel like we should have more time. But, here we are with jingle bells ringing in the background.

Molly brought this challenge to the Inkling's writing desks this month:

    Begin with a specific sensory experience (of taste, sight, smell, sound or touch),and see where that leads you." This part of a prompt from James Crews's new book, "Unlocking the Heart."

I dragged my feet a bit on this challenge (I feel like there should be more time). And, I've been playing around with the 4 x 4 form. So, this recent draft became my poem. It's not quite a 4 x4 as there is no traveling line of repetition. But, I like this poem. It makes me happy.

Globe from my Dad 2023

December 

Delivered box Open it up A light-up globe from my father

Round blues and golds A surprise gift I plug it in Flip on the switch 

All the nations All the oceans All these places My kitchen glows

He wanted to give me some light and a whole world as nourishment

Linda Mitchell Dec. 24

I am hosting Poetry Friday next week. I'll have a post and link-up ready to roll Thursday evening for early birds like me and welcome all poets through the following week. This week, thanks goes to Carol at The Apples in my Orchard for rounding up all our poems in her orchard.

Stay well this week--especially as you prepare for the holidays.

Inkling responses to Molly's challenge can be seen at these blogs:

Mary Lee Hahn @ A(nother) Year of Reading

Catherine Flynn @ Reading to the Core

Molly Hogan @ Nix the Comfort Zone

Margaret Simon @ Reflections on the Teche
Heidi Mordhorst @ my juicy little universe