Welcome to where I am, where my kitchen's always messy, a pot's (or a poet) always about to boil over, a dog is always begging to be fed. Drafts of poems on the counter. Windows filled with leaves. Wind. Clouds moving over the mountains. If you like poetry, books, and music--especially dog howls when a siren unwinds down the hill-- you'll like it here.


MY NEW AUTHOR'S SITE, KATHRYNSTRIPLINGBYER.COM, THAT I MYSELF SET UP THROUGH WEEBLY.COM, IS NOW UP. I HAD FUN CREATING THIS SITE AND WOULD RECOMMEND WEEBLY.COM TO ANYONE INTERESTED IN SETTING UP A WEBSITE. I INVITE YOU TO VISIT MY NEW SITE TO KEEP UP WITH EVENTS RELATED TO MY NEW BOOK.


MY NC POET LAUREATE BLOG, MY LAUREATE'S LASSO, WILL REMAIN UP AS AN ARCHIVE OF NC POETS, GRADES K-INFINITY! I INVITE YOU TO VISIT WHEN YOU FEEL THE NEED TO READ SOME GOOD POEMS.

VISIT MY NEW BLOG, MOUNTAIN WOMAN, WHERE YOU WILL FIND UPDATES ON WHAT'S HAPPENING IN MY KITCHEN, IN THE ENVIRONMENT, IN MY IMAGINATION, IN MY GARDEN, AND AMONG MY MOUNTAIN WOMEN FRIENDS.




Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Eavesdropping: Magpie Tales


Willow asked me to put my Eavesdropping (from Catching Light) on the Magpie Tales link, so here goes. This poem got its start as I was leaving Red Lobster, but I up scaled the restaurant just a bit. The poems in this book are spoken in the voice of a woman named Evelyn, in her late seventies, and originated as a response to a series of photographs by Louanne Watley.


EAVESDROPPING

He was trembling so
and his lips were turning blue,
she speaks into the pay phone
as I pass, in search of the ladies'
room hidden somewhere
in the hotel bar's posh
outer dark. I can't stop

myself wondering what was he
to her and why was he
trembling, his blue lips about to say
something this woman, struggling
to make herself heard over
happy hour, might or
might not be about to confide
as I shove my way through

the inevitable end
of her story and into
the door labeled Mademoiselles,
where a plush carpet,
rococo mirror
atop a pink vanity,
welcome me.

I pull out my lipstick
and slowly apply it to top lip,
then bottom lip.
Look at my mouth in the mirror.
The color I like,
extra long lasting.
No smears.
My hand's steady.
Nothing about my hand trembles.

3 comments:

willow said...

Thanks for posting this one, Kay! That brilliant last line has been playing in my head all week.

Amazing synchronicity jumped out and grabbed me, as I browsed your book. My mother-in-law, Evelyn, passed away last month, and I've been pondering life and death.

SUN DANCE HILL said...

Wonderful poem, thoroughly enjoyed. Willow was right - it goes perfectly with the photo prompt.

Vicki Lane said...

Oh, yes! Perfect and powerful.