About "Carrot Sticks"

At sunset on Monday night is poetry night in Melrose where I live. When I arrive the sun is going down behind the oncoming traffic. Sometimes I have to just stop for a few moments and watch the late commuters slowing down as they come into town. A group of folks, quite the mixed bag, meet in a big old house that is currently an art gallery. I’m not exactly sure how this group came about because I am the newest addition. A couple of locals decided it would be a good idea to meet and try their hand at poetry, and this fabulous location was secured as locale. The rest of them have been showing up a while. I was asked on several occasions to come but demurred on the basis of never seriously having written poetry. Well, as it turns out, I needn’t have been intimidated.

The first night I showed up was unusual in the large number of attendees. There were about 15 people there. Eight to ten is the more common turnout. Our moderator is Don , although this job falls to others as necessary. We sometimes have dogs in attendance, the last little canine cutie, all of two pounds, would signify his approval by barking at the end of each poem. We quickly adopted it as our rating system. The more barks the better.

Acceptance is the overriding principle at work in this group. Every contribution is applauded. In the short time I have been attending I cannot tell you how much this unequivocal support has meant to me. I know my contributions are trite and amateurish; but I have been moved to actually study this literary form and I’m looking forward to a time when I’m able to create a thoughtful work.

So, that brings us to “carrot sticks” or “No Carrot Sticks” the title of the poem I submitted to this blog last. Our stand-in moderator, Laurie, in trying to be democratic allowed the group members to come up with words on which to base poems and Debra, sitting next to me submitted “carrot sticks.” So for ten minutes we all composed a poem using the words “carrot sticks.” Now, I gotta tell you, I am not now or will I ever be (that’s a whole ‘nother blog) a “carrot stick” kind of girl. However, Debra is the kind of girl who can wax poetic over carrot sticks. Go figure! I mean no disparagement whatsoever to my fellow poet! Honest! Who would have thought of carrot sticks as poetic inspiration? Well, such is this group.

Now, in addition to poetry group, some of the members are involved in another enterprise called The Shakerag Players. Next month they will perform at Shakerag Coffee Talk. Its inspiration is our community Melrose, Florida, and features prominently one of our iconic local businesses, Chiappini’s Gulf Station. No visit to Melrose is complete without a trip to Chiappini’s to hobnob with the locals and stand around drinking beer in the service station. Or your beverage of choice, but no hard liquor. Many years ago, I thought of printing and selling t-shirts with the slogan “Melrose, where the beer tastes better and the necks are redder. “ This thought was largely inspired by the activities in and around Melrose and Chiappini’s Gulf Station. Back in those days the beer was fifty cent drafts of Budweiser. Francis Chiappini, a charming, cheerful , gentle man was still alive and running things.

So the plan is to recognize and promote what is unique to our little hamlet and although Chiappini’s is arguably not the most outstanding feature , it is as good a starting place as any.

Oh, and if you haven't read "No Carrot Sticks" scroll down and read it and let me
know what you think.