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Sunday, June 2, 2019

A bonny poem

As I think you all know, Bonnie is now in hospice care. I don't think people should have to wait until after they die for people to share their feelings and stories.

I would like for this week's prompt for everyone to write a Bonnie poem. Or, if you don't know her well enough for that, write a bonny poem.

bonny
     Chiefly Scot. pleasing to the eye; handsome; pretty.
     British Dialect.

  • (of people) healthy, sweet, and lively.
  • (of places) placid; tranquil.
  • pleasing; agreeable; good.

For that matter, the Spanish definition of bonita is beautiful, so that's another option.

26 comments :

  1. Beautiful and sad. (sigh) Thanks for this opportunity.

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  2. Those were wild times.
    '70s in Erie.
    That 8th and Holland
    apartment
    above Grise's

    film library, across
    from the bar that paid
    off pinball
    machines, changed out
    in secret at midnight.

    There was that bedroom,
    floor slanted.
    Friends so high on
    acid walked, fell. We laughed
    watching their antics.

    Who was it
    brought that monkey?
    It shit everywhere.
    I never did like it,
    but cleaned up.

    And when I took
    off for Canada with
    all the food and weed.
    Left a note
    to be polite.

    While I was gone you took
    my righteous jeans, which
    stank, but fell
    apart when you
    washed them. Sweet revenge.

    Wanton freedom in
    the city.
    We did grow up
    but wistful memories
    will always remain.

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    Replies
    1. Wild ride and great poem...good story too! Thanks for the sharing.

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  3. wild times vic. tell bonita i'm here with a phone any time of the day, or night - love paul.

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  4. BONNIE WEE LASSIE

    bonita the chicken eater
    kitten feeder and poetry leader
    my funny friend for many years
    through the meeeoooww's and the grrrrrr's

    this is difficult for me
    a woman i love but will never see
    never get to make her a cup of english tea
    we didn't always agree
    but that was good for her and me

    a gentle soul with radical views
    didn't believe the bullsgit on the news
    reminded me of me
    just looking for a way to be free.

    " i'll miss my friend " - morgan freeman - the shawshank redemtion.

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    Replies
    1. Awww. Very sweet. It made me cry.

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    2. made me cry too vic - love paul.

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    3. Beautiful tribute to a friendship. Very moving. True that.

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    4. thanks tash. a hard poem to write. a hard road to walk - love paul.

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  5. Bonita, Bonita, is Bonny

    Bright with ideas and verses so clever;
    Opinionated, and staunch forever;
    Nice, especially to cats and to kittens
    Intelligent, knows both her gloves and her mittens
    Talented, poetic and swift on the uptake
    Affable, kindly, friend with a cupcake.

    Belligerent whenever she's challenged to be
    Omni talented, with verses is she.
    Never at a loss for the right words
    Interesting even in the strange and absurd,
    Trump lover for which I have to forgive her
    Affectionate arrows inhabit her quiver.

    Bonita is bonny and beautifully brave
    I'll cherish our time and her words I will save
    Her poems, responses, her kind words and true
    Bonita the bonny, I'll be missing you.

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    Replies
    1. Awesome. Funny and serious and loving and kidding, all at the same time. All of these are making me cry.

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    2. yep. that sounds like my friend. we'll skip over the trump thing ha ha. a nice tribute - love paul.

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    3. Thank you, Victoria, I do appreciate your kind words very much, yours too, Paul. I hope Bonnie got a chuckle over my verses.

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  6. QUITE MEEEOOOW'S

    it's cold and dark outside
    but warm and fuzzy inside
    wear your kitten hairs with pride
    forget about people who lied

    it's all quiet now
    except for the odd meeeooowww

    " the long and winding road " - the beatles.

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    Replies
    1. I like your sweet poems. This is very gentle and sweet.

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    2. Nice one, Paul, and sincerely sweet.

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    3. thanks vic. i knew cats would get in here somehow. they get everywhere ha ha - love paul.

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    4. for a sweet lady tash - love paul.

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  7. For Bonnie Rivas Johnson, a pantoum.
    After great pain, a formal feeling comes—
    So Dickinson, and so the course from womb
    To what may lie beyond. We seek what numbs.

    After great pain, a formal feeling comes.
    Maybe it’s art can solve the mystery
    Of what may lie beyond. We seek what numbs
    Or what can give a moment’s ecstasy.

    Maybe it’s art can solve the mystery,
    Or maybe, after all, it’s only love
    That counts more than a moment’s ecstasy:
    A mismatched pair, the eagle and the dove.

    Maybe, after all, it’s only love,
    The love that sisters give, a whole life long:
    A mismatched pair, the eagle and the dove,
    Victoria and Bonnie are my song.

    The love that sisters give, a whole life long,
    Two souls that love united from the womb,
    Victoria and Bonnie are my song.
    For Bonnie Rivas Johnson, a pantoum.

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    Replies
    1. I sent her the poem in a text. She said: wow! awesome! he captured our relationship perfectly and lovingly and gave me a pantoum!Bonnie - Poet At large

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    2. And I agree on all counts.

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    3. Amazing znd heartwarming, beautiful and touching.

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    4. no one knows what lies beyond. we'll all find out in the end, i suppose - paul.

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  8. We could see the little fairies
    that slept in the fragrant flowerbeds
    that me and Bonnie made
    with little stuff we found.

    Bonnie and I know how to have fun
    our ideas blended and grew.
    We sang our songs, the green grass grew
    And played on the swings.

    We danced our dances
    we played in the pool
    we read all the fairy tales.
    It was proof of the magic in the world.

    We walked to school together
    sometimes in two feet of snow.
    We didn’t even feel it.
    In fact, we made snowballs to throw.

    We started writing poetry and stories.
    Bonnie and I giggled a lot.
    Sometimes we had disagreements
    but not for more than five minutes.

    We shared each other's clothes,
    we shared each other's dreams.
    We double dated at the drive-in movies.
    Our boyfriends lived on the same block.

    We moved on and kind of grew up.
    Got married and shared everything still.
    We had parties in the morning with guitars and song.
    Bonnie was part mother to my children.
    They loved her as much as they loved me.

    We grew older but we never grew up.
    Together we kept our minds fresh
    always doing, making, writing,
    never stopping, always laughing,
    sometimes crying ... for a minute maybe two.

    We've been through a million seasons
    and still we never found any reasons
    But now we've forgotten all the questions … anyway.

    Life wouldn't have been exciting,
    it wouldn't have been fun
    All the singing, all the dancing
    the things we did in in the sun.

    We dreamed on…
    We lived…
    little shows in the backyard
    playing jacks
    jumping rope,
    walking, ever walking
    having kids.
    days we played,
    days we cried.
    romps in the rain
    walks in the freezing cold,
    and Bonnie will,
    like me
    have memories of it all.

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    Replies
    1. What a wonderful and interesting image of the growing up you two shared, and the years you have passed togethr. Special memories with warm hearted remembrance.

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    2. growing up is overrated. it's the grown up's that are the problem. still eighteen in my head . lovely tribute wolfie - love paul.

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