It Is Time

You are not your bra size, nor are you the width of your waist, nor are you the slenderness of your calves. You are not your hair color, your skin color, nor are you a shade of lipstick. Your shoe size is of no consequence. You are not defined by the amount of attention you get from males, females, or any combination thereof. You are not the number of sit-ups you can do, nor are you the number of calories in a day. You are not your mustache. You are not the hair on your legs. You are not a little red dress. You are no amalgam of these things. You are the content of your character. You are the ambitions that drive you. You are the goals that you set. You are the things that you laugh at and the words that you say. You are the thoughts you think and the things you wonder. You are beautiful and desirable not for the clique you attend, but for the spark of life within you that compels you to make your life a full and meaningful one. You are beautiful not for the shape of the vessel, but for the volume of the soul it carries.

-Heartbreaker's Handbook

I believe it is time

to stop mourning the body of youth

Even in her dewy verdancy, we held

a conflicted relationship

She never quite lived up

to her air brushed sisters. They had

melon breasts 

while she had cottage cheese thighs

I believe it is time

to embrace the fragrant dumpling body of middle age

It is more yielding

more willing to both give and

receive

Within its folds are secrets

gained only through time and

experience

I believe it is time

to drape my body in its finest linens and loveliest decorations

Why save them?

Why not now?

It is time to stop mourning the body of youth

and celebrate

Set the table for a feast.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Fireblossom Fridays, Bodies

Take a Sad Song

I didn't know who Jude was
but I remember thinking
there were a lot of instructions for him to follow
and some I didn't understand
like "let her under your skin"
but still
when I heard that song
from the back seat of the car
I knew
it was my favorite
I had never paid much attention
to the radio before
I was only about five
but when that song came on
I listened
Somehow I felt like it was telling me something
important
Maybe it was coincidence or
maybe it was synchronicity but
I have spent much of my life
trying to take sad songs and
make them better.

submitted for Poets United, Thursday Think Tank #90, Music

Supplicant to the Moon

source

The milk moon sits in the night sky
like a glowing pearl.
Wolf rises
scents the air for blood
and bays a song of seduction.
Artemis,
guard well your nymphs
flushed pink with spring
and wild as the violets
braided in their hair.
Send music from your lyre in Zephyr's
hands. The beast will be hushed
as raindrops fall on his dreaming eyes.
Come dawn
the scent of musk and
petrichor.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Poem Sketching
(my word group was violets, petrichor, nymph, flush, milk moon)

Don't Silence Students Over Day of Silence

Carroll County Public School Board: Allow students to make announcements about the Day of Silence

My daughter requested that I post this petition on my blog(s) to support these students. They wish to make announcements at their school in Carroll County, MD about the Day of Silence on April 20. The Day of Silence is a student-led national event that brings attention to anti-LGBT name-calling, bullying and harassment in schools. Students from middle school to college take a vow of silence in an effort to encourage schools and classmates to address the problem of anti-LGBT behavior by illustrating the silencing effect of bullying and harassment on LGBT students and those perceived to be LGBT.  The problem is that the Carroll County Public School Board has instituted a new rule that says schools within the school district cannot use words such as "gay", "lesbian", or "bisexual" (or anything pertaining to the LGBTQA community) on their announcements, which could prevent students from making their announcements. 

One of these students started an online petition to allow Day of Silence announcements. If you support these students' rights to free expression, please click on the link to sign the petition. And a big "Thank You" to my daughter, Baby Mouse, for bringing this to my attention. You go girl!

http://www.change.org/petitions/carroll-county-public-school-board-allow-students-to-make-announcements-about-the-day-of-silence

                             

Gone Fishing

photo by Kat Mortensen

There they are

the two men

at their private spot

(or what each thought was his private spot)

Each is too proud

and too stubborn to move

so they feign apathy

for the other's presence

But a casual observer

might see

a well rehearsed dance

mirrored males

See the straight backs?

the necks elongated just so?

the legs bent with feet nudged

toward water's edge?

Look at the pointy beaks and

intent expressions

This could be a rivalry or

just two pals

Gone fishing.

submitted for Sunday Challenge at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

and Poetry Jam, Connections

Life Preserver

photo by James Rainsford

So nice to know

that Mom's in good hands

especially now

that her health is failing

Wish we could be there

but life is so busy

maybe at Christmas

or her birthday

Please keep her comfortable

sure, sedatives are fine

if that's what she needs

to help her

RELAX

Replace the broken hip

Remove the cancerous breasts

Take out the cataracts

Repair the blocked artery

Make it all new and

BETTER

Give her more medications

to fix the side-effects of her medications

Flood her with

RADIATION

and

CHEMO

if there's any chance

Feed her with a tube if she won't

EAT

Stick another down her nose if she won't

BREATHE

Make her heart pump if she won't 

LIVE

Do EVERYTHING 

you can

Don't let Mother

DIE.

submitted for dVerse Poets Pub, Patterns, Pictures, and Poems

Fire/Light

source

Now I know

the brightest light at night

isn't a star

It's the light that dances in your eyes

that sparks the flame within me

Kindling kisses

We burn through the night

throwing ourselves on the fire

to fuel more

and more

until the last glowing ember has

extinguished itself

with itself

In the morning light

we drink our coffee

In the sugar bowl

are ashes.

submitted for Thursday Think Tank, #89 Light, at Poets United

20/200+

Near Sighted by IMustBeDead

Every morning

I am born again

blind as an infant

the world a gauzy, milky

Impressionist painting

Before my first breath

fully escapes my lungs

I've already lunged

for them

It's innate

instinctual

a survival behavior, really

The movement is one

The pattern the same

lunge, grab, grasp, pull, open, place, adjust

Even in the dark

it must be done

before I arise

The behavior is a part of me

a reflex

(try not kicking out when the knee is tapped just so)

Contact lenses 

make for clearer vision

but blurrier behavior

To wit:

my index finger pushing up upon

the bridge of my nose finds

nothing

and at bedtime

a slight pinch and pull of my thumb and pointer

atop my ear finds 

nothing

The feeling 

is quite bothersome

a sort of phantom limb

Though I curse the need for them

I miss them 

when they're missing

Let there be sight.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Mary's Mixed Bag Friday, Poetry of the Ordinary

Cactus Flower

Cactus Flower (Chile) by Leon Calquin

Prickly as a cactus

but you bloom so bright

Get a thorn through my heart

if I hold you too tight

Your blood runs hot

your words do too

It can be sorta scary

gettin' close to you

You're strong; you don't wilt

with a little heat

Your head runs with ideas

You think on your feet

Girl, your wit's needle sharp

and no one is spared

Whoever loves you

had best be prepared

Babe, I wouldn't change a freckle

You have got such power

and you make me smile so bright

You're a perfect cactus flower.

Lament to Chronos

"Turning To Spring" Robert and Shana ParkeHarrison

They say time heals

but these days

they creep by so slowly

and the nights

the nights are torturous

I am a tourist

in my own life

a visitor

in the museum of my mind

I'm bleeding

I'm dying

and the minutes tick by

Time doesn't care.

submitted for The Mag, Mag 109

You Love the Rain

source

Anyone can love a sunny day

but you

love the rain

While I grumble

at the grey

the morning mist

makes you smile

You come alive

a neglected houseplant

that's finally been watered

This morning

you ran outside to play

a puppy in the puddles

When you came back inside

you smelled of fresh mowed grass

and had cherry blossom petals

clinging to your dark hair

like tiny wedding veils

I lifted each one

and kissed beneath it

I love you because

you love rain clouds

I looked up

and saw them

heavy

and pregnant with portent

You looked up

and said

That one looks like

a lazy manatee

floating across the sky.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Kenia's Wednesday Challenge

Water Lilies

© Shanyn Silinski

Gather 'round and hear my story 

Though it's sad and filled with woe

'Bout a Fairy Princess on a 

hill and her love down below

Wizard king would not approve of 

mixing mortal blood with kin

Told his daughter that to love this 

man was nothing but a sin

Fairy Princess wept so hard

the skies they rained for days on end

and her love, he heard her wailing

vowed to go to her again

Upon entering the kingdom

he did find a fence so high

Wizard King had built it up to

reach the clouds within the sky

Come next morning an alarm

was sounded 'round the kingdom wide

Caught beneath the kingdom's fence

a man was found who'd drowned and died

No one ever knew if her love

drowned on going out or in

and the Fairy Princess in her 

grief was never seen again

She had turned them both to water

lilies floating in the pond

They'll forever be together

not in this world but beyond.

Submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Open Link Monday

and dVerse Poets Pub, Open Link Night 36(because, as usual, I'm too late for Poetics, Once Upon a Time)

A Trio of Tanka

source

Snipping back dry sprigs

Dirt under my fingernails

Scent of rosemary

Winter's unruly blanket

Shelters spring's tidy green growth

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Great blue heron prints

Raccoon trails under boardwalk

Deer hooves pressed in mud

Hieroglyphics of the wild

What is lost in translation?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tiny white flowers

Paint over winter's canvas

Pure as spring snowfall

Come summer, white becomes red

Innocence becomes passion

Submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Format Challenge (Tanka)

Signs

© Shanyn Silinski

When I first saw you

little wings 

started beating inside my heart

When we walked side by side

holding your hand

was as easy 

as breathing

And when the sign said

No Through Road

we took off our shoes

and ran in the mud.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Sunday Challenge Shanyn Silinski

Amber

source

 You

oozed anger

out of every pore

Seething

Burning

Hot

Trapped everyone 

in your path

of caustic destruction

But time

tempers

even the whitest flame

Anger hardens

fossilizes amberlike

You 

polish your distortions

hoard your resentments

like precious stones

string them

on a necklace of self-righteousness

so heavy

You

can't even

breathe.

submitted for Poetry Jam, So How Do You Feel?

You May Ask Yourself

image: Uzengia Aleksander Nedic

Did you ever wake up and think

"Where am I?"

Not "Where am I?" but

"Where am I?"

It's an entirely different question 

profoundly more difficult

to answer

because

the one doing the seeking

IS 

the one being sought

(or perhaps not)

It is therefore understandable

why those who find themselves

(that is, lose themselves)

in such circumstances

often may consider it easier

to just go back to

sleep.

submitted for The Mag: Mag 108

dVerse Poets Pub, (too late for Poetics, 1999) so for Open Link Night, Week 35

Poets United, Poetry Pantry #91

                           

Love Song

When I met you, boy
You were so young and sweet
Didn't give a damn
'bout the life I planned out neat
Said drop the pilot
I'll fly your plane
Took me so high
thought I'd never touch ground again.

Love or lack of oxygen
Maybe they're the same
Followed your course
and I took your name
We were flyin' high
then the nosedive came
looked for you to hold my hand
but you were jumpin' out the plane.

Baby, it could have been better
but it could have been worse
We got the chance
to write another verse
The landing hit you hard
Now it's plain to see
You want love and affection, boy
no one's better than me.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Music With Marian, Love and Affection

with inspiration and a couple of lines stolen from Joan Armatrading's "Drop the Pilot"
"It Could Have Been Better"
and "Love and Affection"

No Limits

“Every 47 minutes, a woman tests positive for HIV in the United States."
 
How limited is your compassion?

How can you judge another's worth

as if they were a piece of fashion

How limited is your compassion?

Your love and care you need not ration

The more you give, the less the dearth

How limited is your compassion?

How can you judge another's worth?

submitted for Poetry Jam,  Inner and Outer Limits

and dVerse Poets Pub, Form For All, Triolets

Of Moonlight and Thieves

photo by Mariya Mileva

If locked doors make for thieves

I will lock every door

in the world

so you will steal me away

The moon is too bright

 I can not sleep

for the Man's staring

Let the owl pluck out his eyes

so I can fly away with you

unseen

The nightingale

will tell no one

but the stars

Little fox

come raid the hen house

                                             I will be waiting for you

                                             my feathers red in the moonlight

                                             No bounty for the hunter

                                             no eggs in the morning

                                             Just the gossip and squabbling

                                             of sisters left behind

                                             wondering

                                             whether to be sad or

                                             envious

       submitted for

 Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Kerry's Wednesday Challenge,  Triptych-Poetry In Three Parts

We Write Poems, #97, A Study In Transitions

Poets United, Thursday Think Tank, #87, Moon

You

image by Sarolta Ban

 You're a little, little man

Trying to play me for the fool

Did you think you had a plan?

What an idiot you are!

Just a worthless, paltry pissant, and an

utter trifling tool.

You're an itty bitty boy

And I really hate your hat

Try to treat me like a toy?

See what happens to you now

Go away and don't annoy

me anymore you rotten rat!

You're a small pathetic loser

and a parasitic tick

You know that it's all true, sir

I am looking down at you

Come on, face me, your accuser

Jeez, you really make me sick!

submitted for The Mag, Mag 107

Poetic Bloomings, In Form Poet, Genesis

I'm Bored

Boredom by Kenia Cris

I'm bored

Let's play

You be Queen

I'll be Princess

No, we'll be angels

with sparkly wings

I'm bored

Let's play

I'll be a butterfly

pink and purple

Now we'll be brides

and marry kings!

I'm bored

Let's play

We're magic fairies

We're flying horses

with golden mane

I'm bored

I'm hungry

I'm tired of playing

When do we get off this train?

Submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Sunday Challenge Featuring Kenia Cris

Hello

The dogs start yapping

before the doorbell even rings

I open it 

about a foot

and there they are

the elders

twin penguins

(minus the tux jackets)

standing at attention on my doorstep

hair neatly combed

smiles in place

Bibles in hand

and I think

Damn why didn't I look out the peephole first?

Hello

We'd like to talk to you about

why out god is better than your god

why our church is better than your church

(oh, you don't go to church? 

well, maybe you'd like to visit ours!)

why you should believe what we believe

why you will burn in hell if you don't

why

why 

why

Why didn't I look through that damn peephole?

I send them away

and toss their tracts on top of the newspaper

Headlines 

shout 

religion and politics

politics and religion

and when did this country become

a theocracy anyway?

Those who don't fit 

better get with the Christian agenda real quick

cause the men are coming

with their probes

(if I'd wanted the government up my cunt

I would have fucked a bureaucrat)

and I have no need 

to be born again

cause I was born just right 

the first time, thank you

So maybe I'll just hide here

behind my door

and be sure

to check to damn peephole

and not open it

until Santorum 

is a dirty word again.

submitted for Fireblossom Friday #4, Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

This Is Just To Say...

William Carlos Williams died onMarch 4, 1963. In his memory, I have reprinted his poem and then 3 of my own "tributes" in his memory. No disrespect intended-I love his plum poem!

This Is Just To Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

**************************** 

I have drunk

the wine

that was in

the fridge

and which

you were probably

saving

for dinner

Forgive me

it was there

and I'm

an alcoholic

****************************************

I have copied

the term paper

that was on

your computer

and which

you were probably

going to turn in

tomorrow

Forgive me

you're so smart

and I need

an A

****************************************

I have stolen

the poem

that you posted on

your blog

and which

you were probably

saving

for publication

Forgive me

you're so creative

and have

no copyrights

Arting Again

Trying my hand with the acrylics again. Better luck this time (thanks Rabs!) This one, I think, is going to be for my Mom's birthday this month.  Bird of Paradise is her favorite flower. She's also getting a Roux original by Rabbit (thanks again!) that you can see on the website. Her name is Gail and she's playing mah jong. If you haven't checked out the Roux site yet, definitely do-it's full of adorable Roux bunnies (Easter gifts anyone?) that you can have designed however you want!

Happy Arting and have a good weekend!

Love Brings

West path, grey morning (2009) by Thomas Robinson

On dove grey mornings Love brings me the hues

He lends the day its colors from his eyes

The ashen sky is painted shades of blues

I turn to him and smile as I rise

On tuneless mornings Love brings me the song

The day begins with love notes soft and clear

And in his voice the words are never wrong

A harmony so gentle to the ear

On jagged mornings Love brings me the balm

He smooths my edges til they're not so rough

He touches me, restores my sense of calm

But knows that nights are made of different stuff

Where Love brings days of color, song, and light
In dark mystery and quiet, rules the night.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Happy Leap Day Toads

and Poetry Jam, Anaphora Poem