Make Mine Bologna

I'm in the "In" group now
Sandwiched between
Both sets of eighty plus
Parents
Instability, LifeAlerts
Nurses, insurance
ER, ICU, PT, ALF
The new vocabulary words
Of accidents, aging
And unhappiness
We see
The mind giving up
On memory
Good judgment
While we stand

Helpless
To stop the process
We watch with
The Fates as
The thread stretches
Straining to hear
The snap
I'm in the "In" group
Except I really want
Out

Body of Evidence

Time does not believe
In beauty or
Dignity
Make no bones about
It
In the end
We are only
Spirit and skin
Quit sucking
Your belly
In
Bounce
Be momentous
And
Live in the light
Fate waits
To tip
Our toes
Into night
Where we're
Left to waltz
Solo
On our imagination's
Dance floor

This is offered for Poetry Pantry at poetryblogroll.blogspot.com--this week my mom fell and fractured her thigh bone, and while I was waiting to board a plane to see her, my husband texted me that he was at the hospital. His father had a stroke, and couldn't speak. You never know what curves in the road are coming. And it makes me realize how much we have to enjoy the moment.

Real-lize

It's time
To come clean
Rinse off
The dirty secrets
Of my life....
Optimism can only
Carry me so far
There are ugly
Bad days
I have said
Many hurtful things
(And meant some of them)
Then sat in the yard
Like a wild orphan
Crying into my dog's
Scruff
It was me that
Ate half the cookie dough
There are days
I want to give
Up
On the world
I have backfisted a
Drunk
And got drunk in
A treehouse
Yoga saved my sanity
I like talking to
Horses
I use canned beans
To make black beans
(A sin in Cuban culture)
My cuticles are torn
I can't watch
Scary movies
Optimism can only
Carry me so far
But love has no
Mileage limit

This is offered for the final prompt (sniffle) at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com.  Mary has decided it's time to move on and I understand, yet PJ is one of my favorite places. Love to Mary, Peggy and everyone who has made it such a loving community.  This is also offered for the prompt at Robert Lee Brewer's PAD, to write a poem about confessions. 

A Gust Of Imagination

The wind
Makes paper airplanes
Without following a pattern
And teaches dance
To the daisies
Without playing a note
Sails flotillas of
Leaves without
Passing out paddles
And for an encore
Flutters an autumn leaf
Into a butterfy
When I walked by

This is for Poetry Pantry at Poets United poetryblogroll.blogspot.com.  I did see a red orange leaf, web-tethered to a chain link fence, flutter and thought it was a butterfly...enjoy :-)

Hair of the Dog

When you have a Husky
There's no way round
The volume of hair
That will surround
You
Tumbleweeds
Flow constantly
My floor becomes
A hairy sea
Hair in my clothes
Hair in my soup
I've no doubt
That hair's
In our poop
Yet at
Day's end
Who always greets
Me?
My smiling, wagging
Hairy Husky

This is offered up for Anthony's prompt to write about hair, at Dverse Poets dversepoets.com--This is our second Husky (mix--rescue) and we swore we wouldn't get another (Ha!) He definitely picked us, and it has been true love ever since.  Though the hair does get a bit overwhelming at times... ;-)

Breaking Dawn

Why does dawn
Always bring a break?
Night's ebony shell cracks
Releasing rays of light
Dashing
A delicious dream
Breaking the fast
Be slow to
Say goodbye
Hear the heartstrings
Stretch with
The thump of a trunk
There's no looking back
While the car
Waddles over
Gravel and is
Gone in
The blink, blink, blink
Of a tailight

This is offered for Alan's prompt at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot. com, to pick a word for this New Year and write about it.  For some reason "dawn" has been in my mind and the poems that I've been writing, lately.  Perhaps a subconscious push at new beginnings, or maybe just rosy skies. The last lines have been hanging around in head ever since I saw an early morning farewell, on one of my many dog walks, it was nice to finally find them a home :-) Happy New Year everyone!!

A Pebble for Your Thoughts

It drops
A pebble thought
Spinning circles through
This fractured heart
Some pieces cannot
Be pushed together
Magnetic poles in
Opposition pushing
Away the tethers
That used to bind
Yet my mind
Stubbornly tries
To find
Where the pieces
Might fit
Wonders why
The shapes changed
Won't accept that
Some things
Can't be explained
And the pebbles
Keep falling
Like the rain

This is offered for Alan's prompt at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com to write about pebbles. (I love pebbles!) It's also inspired by last week's prompt to write about something broken.  I have a hard time letting go of things I love--that have broken--picture frames with a favorite photo, a missing earring from a favorite pair, friendships that for one reason or another ship-wreck.  I don't pursue the friendship once it's gone, but my brain seems to get stuck sometimes trying to sort out what happened...Hope that you're on happier thoughts today and that it's a lovely week :-)

Floating Phrases

Most days
I am a jellyfish
Trailing tentacles
Trying to trap
Tidbits, phrases
That feed my soul
Currents frequently
Curtail
My efforts
Sweeping a tasty verb
Or adjective
Into the depths
And in the Euphotic zone
We live for the light
While
Wishing for
A taste of
Something deeper

This is offered for Poetry Pantry at Poets United poetryblogroll.blogspot.com. This image of a jellyfish capturing words with its tentacles has been rolling around my mind all week.  Feels good to finally release it :-).   The Euphotic zone is the part of the ocean where most of the creatures live, warm and well lit. Like my poetic voice which is usually light, yet intrigued by the darkness...

Be Your Own Starch, or Madlibs In The Treez (An Oulipo)

If a Palo front waves
Will young bucks wave back?
Or just nod at
Wawaskeesh slapping their palominos
On the sandarac
There's a gralloch of tuxilline
In the seal
And weakfish rarely see ita
Spending timid wishing on starch
But its timid to be your own starch
Light your own pathogen through
The trefs
And remember to wave
At palominos on the Wayne
(Evictees need a front)

This is offered for Victoria's prompt at dVersePoets dVersePoets.com to write an Oulipo. You take an existing poem and for every noun you replace it with a noun that is the 7th noun next in the dictionary. I've been writing and nothing has really jelled, so this is a good way to play.  :-). Happy weekend!!

Here's the definitions:

Palo (a town in Iowa)
Wawaskeesh (Indian name)
Sandarac (resin from a North African tree, genus Tetraclinus)
Gralloch (entrails of a dead deer--erk!)
Truxilline (alkaloid in cocoa)
Weakfish (any fish that has a tender mouth in North America)
Ita (a palm tree)
Tref (a hamlet in Britain from the pre-Saxon era)
Wayne ( occupational surname for a cartwright, cart builder)
Evictees (people who have been forced to leave their home)
Palominos (horses with golden colored coat on their bodies and a creamy mane and tail)

A Little Light Poetry

Luna was fully aglow
And roll-
ing in
Pillows of cumulo-
Nimbus
Playing now you
See me
Now you don't
While the sea
Restlessly shook
Her shoulders
Waited
For the light
To drape
Her diamonds
Down her chest
And
Let sparkles
Dance across
Her breast

A little sea poetry for Peggy at poetryjaam.blogspot.com, I had been waiting for the right prompt to use that image of the full moon. She was playing the other night, when I drove home, with the storm clouds. Lighting them up and then disappearing--it looked to me like she was rolling around and having fun 😊 Happy Wednesday!

A Part

Wikipedia. Rodin The Kiss 1889

We're a pair
The fit of fingers
Knuckles, hip, shoulder
Molded for each other
Or maybe it's from
Years of wear, snuggling
Together
Except it's always
Felt like finding my
Matching puzzle piece
Could almost hear the "click"
When my hand slipped into yours
And when you leave there's
Emptiness
In my day, heart, bed
That one kiss goodbye
Is never enough to keep away
Sigh filled skies
So hold me as tightly
As I do you
Both arms, pressed against
My flesh
And carry the memory
The feel of that moment
Until our lips meet again

This is offered for Bill Webb's prompt at Dverse Poets, dVersePoets.com, who challenged us to write real as Rilke wrote to a young poet. “write about what your everyday life offers you; describe your sorrows and desires, the thoughts that pass through your mind and your belief in some kind of beauty Describe all these with heartfelt, silent, humble sincerity and, when you express yourself, use the Things around you, the images from your dreams, and the objects that you remember.” He also suggested that we look at Rodin and I was inspired by the sculpture of The Kiss.  It appears to me, that the woman has a more passionate hold, both arms around his neck.  Though perhaps if the man lifted his back arm, they'd fall over...anyway, my husband's been traveling a lot and so that's my Rilke every day reality.

Be Your Own Star

If a palm frond waves
Will you wave back?
Or just nod at
Waves slapping their palms
On the sand
There's a grain of truth
In the seas
And we rarely see it
Spending time wishing on stars
But its time to be your own star
Light your path through
The trees
And remember to wave
At palms on the way
( Everyone needs a frond...)

This is offered for Sumana's prompt to write about a path at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com, and for Dverse Poets where Victoria asked us to write a poem with patterns, I was playing with homonyms. As you can see from the poem, I was just playing in general... a wordplay that took on a life of it's own.  Happy Friday everyone!! :-)

Un-penned

It is an ordinary
Instrument
Ink and a container
To keep my fingers
From getting blue
(though they still do)
Yet
It holds all dreams
And fears
Just by pressing
Pen to paper
It
Releases my words
To the world
Laying on the table
Or desk
It could be a stick
But in fact
It's filled with magic

This is offered for Peggy's prompt at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com to write about something ordinary.  I write a lot of poetry on my electronic tablet, but I love the flow of pen and paper, scratching things out, rearranging.  It feels like magic.  Happy Weekend!

Don't B Flat

The bluesman wailed under a swaying moon
The Ice Queen sipped the sound
Her tongue was sliced by C Sharp
But no blood was found
Melody flew through her lips
Then was consumed
By the sun
Rays
Of beat
Bounced off the trees
Who boughed and shook
Their shiny leaves
Willow gave a shimmy shake
Left musical leaf notes
In her wake
Breezling fingers flew
Between
Showering
Music that
Tasted green
And that old man
Couldn't stop clapping

This is offered for Claudia's prompt at Dverse Poets dVersepoets.com to write a fantasy story using certain characters--I used Ice Queen, Bluesman and a man who couldn't stop clapping.  This started as a response to Anthony's prompt last week to write a DMT dream type poem, but I was too late to link.  Really enjoyed blending the two. Hope you do too :-)

A Taste of Special

Always a half
Served as he decompressed
From the day
Creamy yellow green flesh
With salt and a lemon squeeze
My sister and I
Little birds
Perched near
Begged for
A bite
With surgical precision
He'd slice a small sliver
And deliver it
Like the rarest of delicacies
To our open mouths
Butter soft and rich
Tang and salt
Combined
Divine
*******
Dawn barely bright
We sat at the speckled
Orange Formica table
Grandpa sipping coffee
Me poised for the moment
His large fingers
Pinched a sugar cube
Like a magician
He held it above steaming
Dark brew
Liquid climbed
Into pure white crystals
Turning them
Toasty brown
At the half way point
He'd pop it in my mouth
A hot crumbled crunch
Sweet so strong it
My teeth complained
But tempered with
Warm roasty coffee...
Perfection

This offered for Poetry Pantry at Poets United poetryblogroll.blogspot.com.  Not sure why these memories were rolling around my head this morning while I washed the dishes.  Guess just the thought of how special we felt to share in the treat--evening avocado with my dad and sugar cube dunked in coffee with my Grandpa--  Anyone else have these types of memories? :-)

There's No Good Time

Touch down, drive

Drag suitcases in

Release dog

And

Gasp

At water waddling down the hall

It impregnated the baseboards

Partied under the floors

Splashed in a self made kiddie pool (utility room)

Too few towels to take him down

So the jaws of unknown damage

Gape and snap in your dreams

That spill into a morning

Nightmare

Baseboards ripped

Drywall slaughtered

Then the incessant drone 

Hulking, loud fan warriors

Blowing death and dryness

At the liquid 

Laughing

In the walls

This is offered up for the very timely prompt by Gabriella, at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com, to write about the unexpected.  Came home 11:30 Wednesday night after a nine day trip to find the water heater had rusted out and flooded the house.  Fortunately, only the hall and bedrooms.  And with all the kids being gone, very little furniture damage. Feeling lucky actually.  Hope everyone else had happier surprises. :-) 

Whirled Peas

I'm waiting for non-
judgment day
Where " I love you"
Is what we say
To
Differences, idiosynch-
Cracies

We'll dance among the
Pleasant-
Trees
Share whirled peas
Sip humani-
Teas

Life could be
So trouble free
If we'd embrace
Our common-
ality
And imagine the
Possibili-
ties

This is offered for Peggy's prompt at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com to write about an impossible place.  With all the violence and anger lately, this seems pretty remote, however, I like to think that with hope all things are possible.  Happy weekend :-)

Stranded Without A Passport

Stranded without a passport
Thirsty for deep blue
But my boat don't have a paddle
So I can't get back to you
If only I'd remembered
While packing my swim trunks
I'd be snorkeling with my baby
'Stead of hanging out with drunks
So pretty please Mister Overnight Courier
Make sure that you deliver
That little document I need
To reach my baby, at full speed
Then I'll be deep in ocean
Never, ever have to be dry
And me and my baby
Won't no more say goodbye

This was written for Alan's prompt about being thirsty at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com, and believe it or not, based on a true story.  Just last weekend...and the title came from our friend's comment after his ordeal.  May you never be stranded without your passport and may your thirst be easily quenched.  Cheers!  Happy 4th everyone! :-)

Virtual Touring the Blogland

Hi!  Something a little different--decided to support some fellow bloggers who I know and enjoy.

The first is one who I have "known" virtually for quite some time--Janet Rice Carnahan a fellow poet and artist--and in this process I have found out so much more!  Anyway, she was kind enough to invite me to the tour:
Here she is by one of my favorite places :-)

Here's her bio:
Janet Rice Carnahan, currently living in Southern California, finds her inspiration in nature’s beauty every chance she gets.  Her poetry has been published online in “Jellyfish Whispers”, “Pryokinection”, “Camel Saloon”, “Three Line Poetry”, and “The Mind{less} Muse”.  Two of Janet’s poems were selected for the anthology, “Storm Cycle: The Best of 2013” through “Kind of a Hurricane Press”.  She also contributed poetry to two other anthologies, “Backlit Barbell” and “Prompted: An International Collection of Poems”, where she also received credit for the cover photo and caption.  On her website, Hear Earth Heart, she has self-published four poetry books, “Shadows in the Sanctuary”, “Into the Inner Path”, “The Cosmic Highway” and “Hear Earth Heart, a series of haikus”.

and here's her blog:  http://www.hearearthheart.com/blog  she has had an amazing journey and her poems are absolutely wonderful--so please stop by for a visit--you will be glad you did :-)

Part of the process is that I have to answer some questions--I'm feeling a little slumber-partyish about this...

1. What am I currently working on?  
Currently, I'm working on trying to write one poem a week, and visit as many of my fellow poets as possible. I'm also working on my tan, my balance and becoming more graceful in yoga. And breathing as much sea air as possible. 2. How does my work differ from others of its genre?
Honestly, I see a lot of similarities in many poets and my work. I am free form, and mostly light. My goal is to try and tickle a smile out of my readers, usually. Sometimes the darkness comes and you just have to go with it. Life is like that. 3. Why do I write/create what I do?
Simply, because my head will explode if I avoid the creative voices in my head/heart/feet for too long. I have to release it. Thankfully there are many other creatives in this world/blogosphere who share their talent with me (inspire, delight me) and are generous with their support for my writing as well. 4 How does your writing/creating process work? I'm really enjoying prompts from Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com; and dversepoets.com, and Poets United poetryblogroll.blogspot.com; however, most of my inspiration hits when doing something mundane, like washing dishes, driving, walking the dogs or extraordinary like hiking in the Sierras, Southwest, or splashing in the sea :-)

And now, for the really fun part!  Here's a new amazing and very creative poet/songwriter to check out :-)

 Susan Schoeffield!

• Bio:
• Born, raised and living in Baltimore, MD, Susan’s interest in playing with words began in the 60’s when her ten-year old brain realized her favorite band wrote their own songs. Fascinated by the concept, she started writing her own lyrics. In 2009, she began to focus on her writing in earnest. Over the last several years, she has self-published a mystery novel, a collection of poetry, a haiku collection and a children’s book. She is owned by two cats, a black Labrador and serves at the pleasure of a Basset Hound.

  
  

  
  
• 6/24, 12:47pm

  For a real treat, run over and visit with Susan at:  

  http://wordswithsooze.com

  
  

  Happy Touring!

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

Shifting Tides

The love tide shifts
In her heart
Sadness draws
The liquid down
Only to be replenished by

~Teardrops skating on a moonbeam~

Gleam in his eyes
Victory was bitter
Tired of lessons repeated
Now armed with love
He reaches across the divide

This is offered for Laurie's prompt at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com to write about a bridge, using the Puente form of poetry.  The 1st and 3rd stanzas are supposed to be different thoughts, I went more with different views...look forward to crossing more bridges tonight :-)