general, Poetry, writing

Son Kenny’s Poetry of Love 1982


Since it is near the end of the year 2013, a good time for browsing through files, going over the past, readying for the future, I came across this item in my folder.

In 2005: I found this poem while cleaning out the attic for the big move to the South. This is how son Kenneth Bice Morrison wrote and set the poem six months before he passed away in an auto accident. Hopefully the young woman he wrote it for happens to read it.

Jan ‘82

I remember
the ferria in Seville
and Rota
and in some town tween there
and a bull fight in Sanlucar.
going for a ride in a rent-a-car.

I remember
way too much drinking
far to few
moments spent with you.

I remember
picking flowers
partying at late hours
your fear of height in a tall church tower.

I remember
in love.

of the way it used 2 B
brings a fear rushing over me

Wraps around my heart
A crazy love

I live imprisoned by a forsaken love
It does NOT have to be this way. . .


More on Purple Socks


The idea of purple socks played in the back of my mind. How come Sharon and I are the only two people I know that wear purple socks. Or at least the only two I’ve seen. And I’ve been wearing them long enough that some people will come up to me and obviously look down to see if I’m still wearing purple socks.
Two years ago when I went online to find purple socks they were difficult to find. Now they are all over the ‘net; expensive trouser sox, knee sox, some with argyle design. And I even found what I was looking for, some reasonably priced cotton slouch sox.
Curiosity has crept in. What were other people saying about purple socks? Maybe I’d find some answers there. Continuing the search on the ‘net came up with:
In the book Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh, there is a boy in Harriet’s class that wears purple socks. She figured he must wear them because they make him lucky. This information came to me from Mimi’s Musings, a blog at: I had never read Harriet the Spy but I like this boy already. I may have to read the book to learn about him.
Apparently there are some purple socks floating in and out of the Harry Potter stories.
A line of lyrics from Birds of a Feather by Lana Del Rey is “You wear purple socks and still like Purple Haze”
Purple socks are related to the gay community….not a factor in my case. Purple socks are indicative that the wearer does not have underwear on….not a factor in my case either.
I’ll continue to wear purple socks now that the chilly weather has set in. No reason to change. Hmmm. Maybe there are enough out there that I can comparative shop….online, of course.

general, women

Purple Socks

What is it about purple socks? I began wearing purple-colored socks and only that color, at least 10 years ago. I first came across them at the Columbus Farmers’ Market in New Jersey. They have a huge flea market outside covering acres of new and used items on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. The Sox Lady there makes her own socks and brings them to the market each week. I bought a dozen pair, all the same; all from the same dye lot. No longer would I have to go searching for a mate. Just reach into the pile and pull out two socks. Voila`. A matched set.
I have no idea where the idea of wearing purple socks came from or why I chose that color and not pink, orange, or my favorite color, green. If you know, please let me know.
A few years ago I went to our local radio station, WARR 1520 AM to do an interview with Sherman Johnson. As I waited my turn in the foyer, a gal walked in…..wearing purple socks. She glanced down at my feet and smiling, said, “Hi, I’m Sharon.”
I liked her instantly. Was it the shared love of purple socks? Did it mean more than two people liking the same thing? We chatted casually, half listening to Mr. Johnson on the air. We met again briefly, a year or two later, at a Warren Artists’ Market (WAM) poetry slam in the Warren County Memorial Library. Her teenage son Noah was reciting that night. He sounded like a natural, words rolling off his tongue without effort. At least it seemed to me to be without effort.
Another few months passed before our next meeting at the Senior Center where I had arrived a bit late. I say a bit late because Sharon had invited me on that first meeting, to come to the Center and give a workshop on writing. Stuff kept cropping up, getting in the way until the invitation faded in my mind. Now I was there to team-teach writing, poetry mixed with memoir.
I realize that when a path is laid out, I may drift away from it, but I will get back on it because the path is still there, waiting.
And I was delighted to see Sharon was still wearing purple socks, as I was, too.

general, Poetry, writing

More on the Drunken Sorceress

DSCF3180Nearly a year ago Thomas (Park) came up with the idea of putting together an anthology of poetry. Of course I said, “Good idea!”
So it began. We sent out invitations to writers we know across the country. Following is a list of the people whose talented words you will be reading in poem or prose form in Sitting with a Drunken Sorceress, the title poem of Thomas’.
D. Bernard Alston, Devonte’ Alston, Arlene S.Bice, Carrie Champion, Susanne Doucet, Rebecca Dutton, Otis Evans, LaVerne Gardner, Margaret Griffin, Elizabeth Groeger, Kate Guilford, Nancy Iak, Patricia Lapidus, ET Malone, Parker Mincey, Mary Ann Myers, Nancy Cassada Nelson, Eleanore Newbauer, Thomas Park,Jack Peachum, Gary Peterson, Abigail Pillitteri, Judith Prest, Mike Ranes, Thom Record, Kaylee A Roach, Seth Saeugling, Savannah Short, Mary Sullivan, Robert J. Surrette, Hilda Ward, Anita Merriweather Williams, Jyoti Wind,
We were working toward a totally unrealistic publishing date of June 2013, but then writers often work with fantasy. So we pushed the date ahead to September which could possibly have been attained. But alas, the little leprechaun that lives in my house, popped up to cause a few more road blocks. He likes me to know he is alive, well and in control.

Our dear friend, greatly talented artist JA Person was to have his original art work on the cover of the book. In between taking photos of his art work and getting his written permission, JA died. Suddenly. Out of respect for his talent and our friendship, we attempted to have someone in the family sign over one-time copyright for the piece. Sadly, his aging mother passed away shortly after.

We extended the deadline again to come up with new cover art. Next we planned a Holiday Season release just in time for gift-giving.

OMG! The ‘proof’ came back from the printers with the uncorrected copyright page showing JA’s name. Uh-oh. The manuscript had to go back to the printer with the correct information. Uh-oh. The second ‘proof’ was not corrected, either.

Now, surely, Sitting with a Drunken Sorceress will be available for purchasing before the new year.

Hmmmm. I wonder about that drunken sorceress.

books, Poetry, writing

a forever feeling

from: Sitting with a Drunken Sorceress
It is nearly here, books are expected to be available in a week or two.

a forever feeling

Words written
have a forever feeling,
a deeper meaning
that goes on and on
that outlives the writer
a word written on paper
is etched in stone
to be found centuries later,
read and enjoyed or wept over.

The word spoken
is thrown out
to the wind
to carry it away
can leave a scar
to be remembered
but it doesn’t last forever,
a word spoken softly
to soothe and caress
may be felt for the moment
but flies away into the air
soon forgotten by the speaker.

Ah, but the word written
to enter our dreams
to carve us,
brings a tender tear
falls upon the breast
soaking into the heart; it stays.

A word written binds
like your washing of another’s hands,
gently, caressing
as the soap cleans; scents the skin
seeping into the flesh
to stay as the memory
of that other touch rubs deeply
into that space in you
that no one knows is there.

The written word can be revisited
again and again a treasure
to tease,
to awaken a sleeping moment,

Arlene S. Bice (C)

books, Poetry, writing

Guest poet Deanie Carter -If I Can, with Love

Today is a day for a guest to have her poetry featured on my blog. Deanie Carter was born in Skippers, Virginia. She is a double jointed contortionist that at 61 years old, performed on television. She has won gymnast competitions and is a cancer survivor who has been writing poetry since she was eight. When she won the Golden Poet Award in 1987, she traveled to Las Vegas to receive it.


Her poetry has been published in Quail Books, Coming Home Magazine, other publications and lately featured in Listen Up! a chapbook that is the result of writing sessions at the Warren County Senior Center, sponsored by the Warren Artist’s Market (WAM). We’re talking North Carolina here.

If I Can, with Love

If I can touch your life with love on this day
Maybe I can be blessed in another way
If I can bring a smile to you
Maybe you’ll be forever blessed, too
If I can bring joy in reaching out to others
Then I will give a message to my
Sisters and brothers
If I can bring words to relax the mind
Maybe you will be glad to see me most anytime
If I can give words of inspiration this day
I know God would want it no other way
If I can do a favor without pay
Maybe I can rest in heaven someday
© Deanie Carter