Monthly Archives: April 2016

Triple Tricky

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Triple Tricky

Who knows what each new day will bring?
Three dogs wiggling outside my door–
my feeding them, them wanting more.

The world reaches out for me and more.
Those worlds imagination  brings
come whining louder at my door.

Now and always at time’s door
I offer words and ask for more
than what, I know, the years will bring.

Agape once more, that final door brings me at last to face my fears.
I bring myself to cross its sill, still hoping there will be some more.

The WordPress prompt is “Tricky” and and NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a tritina–a poetic form that involves three three-line stanzas and a final concluding line. Three “end words” are used to conclude the lines of each stanza, in a set pattern of ABC, CAB, BCA, and all three end words appear together in the final line. I cheated and used two concluding lines instead of one. This poem meets both prompts. Tricky.
http://www.napowrimo.net/day-seven-3/
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/tricky/

Cross my Lens with Silver–Color Your World 4-6-16

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Our children follow in our footsteps
My father’s and perhaps my grandfather’s axe.
Eduardo’s machete.
Sippin’ silver
This tiny toad was sitting on the crossbar of the window grill in front of my computer desk. At first I thought he was a curled up leaf. He must have quite a jump because he was 4 feet off the ground.

(Click on photos to enlarge.)

Okay, hold the show!  It is 11:33 p.m. two nights after I took the picture of little silvertoad and I just went out and he is still there!  Just moved a few inches.  I had to take photos.  The one that isn’t a closeup will show how small he is.

See how tiny he is? He’s in the corner two bars over from the right.

http://jennifernicholewells.com/2016/04/06/color-your-world-silver/

Seven Day Nature Challenge, Day 1

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I caught this caracara bird at his early morning breakfast on the beach at La Manzanilla, Jalisco, Mexico.

I’ve been invited by Cee from ceenphotography.com to participate in a challenge called Seven Day Nature Photo Challenge, and since I’ve been doing everything Cee told me to do for the past few years, of course I’m complying.  Aside from being obedient, I also happen to have about 35,000 nature photos I’m eager to share, so this decision was not a hard one to make.  (Check out Cee’s third photo of the nature challenge HERE.)

To take part in the challenge I’m supposed to post one photo per day for seven days, of anything from the natural world. And every day I should nominate a new member.  Today I would like to nominate Bob Mielke from the pacificnorthwesttraveler blog.  He is an excellent wildlife photographer who is especially adept at photographing animals. Check out his blog and hopefully you’ll see his first of seven entries for this challenge.

No Free Ride in Mexico: Cuota Road to the Beach

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The “Freeways” of Mexico are anything but free.  Yes, there are free roads, but they are generally twisty, two-lane and frequently not too safe.  In Mexico, what we think of as freeways are actually toll (or cuota – pronounced “quota”) roads.  They are not cheap, but they are multi-laned, divided, well-maintained and generally safe, although this trip presented one unique potential danger not often found in the U.S. unless you happen to live in the northwest.

Click on the first photo and then the arrows to enlarge photos and see the story told in their captions.

Driving along the Carretera to the beach. Colima Volcano is front and center.
Then I noticed the huge sign posted by the federal police telling me to drive with caution. I wondered why.
After I drove past the volcano, I glanced into my rear vision mirror and saw the volcano venting.

http://ceenphotography.com/2016/04/05/cees-fun-foto-challenge-freeways-expressways-highways/

Wandering Jew with Pineapple: Flower of the Day, April 6, 2016

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I promised Calen Sariel that I would show more of the Wandering Jew plant when I showed a closeup of the bloom a few weeks ago, so here it is, Calen, along with my yearly pineapple that I await with great trepidation, lest some animal or visitor make off with it.  These are always the sweetest pineapples I’ve ever tasted, and Pasiano and Yolanda and I make a ceremony out of tasting it when the final sacrifice is made and we harvest it! (Yes, I realize a pineapple is a fruit, not a flower, but the Wandering Jew is and its inclusion in the posting makes this official!)

http://ceenphotography.com/2016/04/05/flower-of-the-day-april-6-2016-tulips/

Foreign Food

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Foreign Food

In the garden or on the hoof,
in the lake or on the roof,
we grow it, herd it, shoot it, hook it.
Pick it, wash it, chop it, cook it.

Wherever we see food, we take it.
Stir it, spit it, fry or bake it.
In Japan is the exception.
Some ancient chef had a conception

that he would not cook the fish–
just serve it raw upon the dish.
It is a strange way to be fed–
to eat a fish that’s merely dead!

In African countries, I have found,
they build a fire on the ground
and cook their food in cauldrons there
flavored with spices hot and rare.

In Sicily, the mafia bosses
favor rich tomato sauces.
First they’re fed by wife or mother,
Then they go out and kill each other.

Mexicans use corn instead
of wheat to make their daily bread.
They fold it around beans or meat
and chilis to turn up the heat!

America’s a country where
there’s food from every country there.
What’s unique in our repast
is that we want our food here fast!

The NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem about food, and the WordPress daily prompt was faraway.  I’m going to try to combine them!

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/faraway/

http://www.napowrimo.net/day-six-4/

Color Your World Shocking Pink

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Click on first photo and arrows to view all photos in enlarged format.

http://jennifernicholewells.com/2016/04/05/color-your-world-shocking-pink/

Aloe: Flower of the Day Apr 5, 2016

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Click on first photo and then on arrows to enlarge.

This Poem is a Sort of Street

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(Click first photo to enlarge, then click on arrows.)

This Poem is a Sort of Street

This poem is a sort of street.
I wonder who I’m going to meet
as I walk down the dust of it––
plod along the “must” of it.
I do not know where I am going.
I follow it while never knowing
what’s around the next blind bend.
I do not know how it will end.

Each line is a new adventure
leading to acclaim or censure.
The GPS that’s guiding me––
determining what I will see––
is lodged so deep and far inside
a road stretched out so long and wide
that it must guide or I’ll get lost
in ruts of words and pay the cost

of trying to control by mind––
a street that’s meant to twist and wind
guided by a force within
that is intuitive and yin.
It is a guide that’s mostly lost
in this world so tempest-tossed.
The drop of it that I infuse
in rhymes that others then may choose

to read and ponder is the way
that I have chosen to try to pay
the toll for this tremendous gift
of life where I have learned too well
the lessons of the school bell.
I’ve learned to turn a deaf ear to
what pedants say I need to do
and take each day a road that’s new.

I’m led by dreams and intuition
down streets with no thought of fruition
but instead careen and ramble
without an outline or preamble
into places I’d never go
if I just reported what I know.
Then I record all that I see
so you can learn along with me.

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/street/

Aunt Lou’s Underground Railroad Tomato

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Reading through a heritage seed catalogue can be a bit like reading a Reader’s Digest of adventure and human interest stories. Take, for instance, the abbreviated tale of how one tomato variety came to be saved and how it got its name. Above is an excerpt from the Southern Exposure Seed Exchange catalogue that tells this tale. Below is the poem I wrote, prompted by this entry.

Aunt Lou’s Underground Railroad Tomato

So many acts of bravery lost
to history, but at what cost?
We concentrate on acts of war
in spite of what we fight them for.
Patriotism is what we say
we’re fighting for, while day by day
young men die for corporations
and win postmortem decorations
Their sacrifice of life much praised
so profit margins may be raised.

Consider, then, the other hero
whose decorations number zero.
This hero’s grave we’re loath to mark.
The soil above his grave is stark.
His collar bore no decoration,
His passing earned him no oration.
Unnamed, unlauded, he took a train
his life and freedom to regain––
pushed up from darkness like seeds to light,
by those engaged in a selfless fight
for fairness and equality.
One more man saved. One more man free.

Those who aided him also lost––
their names like ashes lightly tossed
to fertilize the soil wherein
small shafts push up where seeds have been.
Those seeds he carried his only fare,
passed to a woman who helped him there.

The fleshy meat––tangy and pink,
its juices running down the sink
a child stands over while eating it––
teeth tearing flesh, his face well lit
by sunlight streaming in the glass
where once a hand was seen to pass
a pocketful of tomato seed––
a humble gift born out of need
to somehow give a small bit back.
Those seeds he’d carried in his pack
saved now for posterity
by one man peacefully set free.

The Prompt: Spend some time looking at the names of heirloom plants, and write a poem that takes its inspiration from, or incorporates the name of, one or more of these garden rarities. http://www.napowrimo.net/day-five-3/

I think this poem is also appropriate for the WordPress daily prompt of Contrast.