Contents – September 2024
Editorial
Clarity
Acrostic
Limerick
Friends of Judy
Editorial
Letter from the Editor
I
realize intellectually that there are many words in English that I don’t know. Nonetheless, I’m always somewhat surprised when I learn of a new one. Here are two of my favorite recent acquisitions.
Synesthesia: This spring I was reading a spy novel named “Red Sparrow,” in which the main character was a synesthete or had synesthesia. Quickly I sought out the experts for help.
Synesthesia is a perceptual phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway.
Or…Synesthesia is a fancy name for when you experience one of your senses through another. For example, you hear the name “Alex” and see green. Or you read the word “street’ and taste citrus fruit.
Clarity
Aurora Borealis: A non-expert’s opinions
By Judy Green
Aurora Borealis: A female body part.
My first opinion was that aurora borealis referred to a female body part. This idea was confirmed when my mother told me “Never use this word in public!”
Aurora Borealis: A sophisticated boar.
I didn’t grow up on a farm, but my father’s side of the family did, both in Wisconsin and in Sweden, so of course there was a lot of talk about animals. A little research on my end showed that certain species of boars lived in matriarchal societies and that male boars became “serious pests” in America. How could this be wrong!
Acrostic
Aurora: An acrostic
By Judy Green
Aurora
Aurora could be a girl or a flash.
Unreal? Maybe – at least the girl.
Real? I doubt it – at least the flash.
Opaque to me for sure.
Really? I know I’m dense.
Aurora is an acrostic, obviously.
Unreal? Maybe – at least the girl.
Real? I doubt it – at least the flash.
Opaque to me for sure.
Really? I know I’m dense.
Aurora is an acrostic, obviously.
Limerick
Borealis: A limerick
By Judy Green
Borealis
When naming a boar, please opine,
Or you’ll end up by naming a swine,
For Boris is classy,
And Alice is sassy.
But Borealis is kind of half-assy! (Even for the lowly pig)
Friends of Judy
Fog: A photo
By Clarke Brownell
Friends of Judy
Visiting Hours
A blank verse poem
By Sasha E.
Three visitors like camels came in turn to my room: my Doctor, Mother and a Nun
The opening of a strange joke,
Each in that memory
The opening of a strange joke,
Each in that memory
Posed as different Elgin marbles,
Silhouettes on the half-formed Acropolis of that night, the first time I almost died.
Ha! This is not a story of how Death came and taught me how to flourish in Spring
The Spirit of god is in my nostrils
Silhouettes on the half-formed Acropolis of that night, the first time I almost died.
Ha! This is not a story of how Death came and taught me how to flourish in Spring
The Spirit of god is in my nostrils
It taught Winter, hiding, fear,
My lips shall not speak wickedness,
A failure to push above the frozen tundra and remain instead hard beneath the soil.
My lips shall not speak wickedness,
A failure to push above the frozen tundra and remain instead hard beneath the soil.
The Doctor appeared first, with his Iranian olive eyes, leading the caravan of my fate.
Later I learned he was a musician,
A concert pianist,
Trained in my metronomic beats
Later I learned he was a musician,
A concert pianist,
Trained in my metronomic beats
Tick Tock. Lay still, or the blood-clots might move and there’s nothing we can do.
Friends of Judy
Fog: An acrostic
By Susan Gabert
A Sailor’s Encounter with Fog
Fearful (always have your radar ready)
Ornery (comes in and out with little warning stealth-like)
Grave (serious stuff, stay put!)
Ornery (comes in and out with little warning stealth-like)
Grave (serious stuff, stay put!)
issue no. 7