Monthly Archives: October 2016
Hell’s Angels Gone Literal: JNWs Halloween Challenge, Oct. 31
I’ve been saving this photo snapped in Patzcuaro a couple of years ago. It’s perfect for this prompt of “Costumes.” These fellows were actually driving around the streets of this crowded Michoacan town noted for its celebration of Day of the Dead on motorcycles!!!
The last Halloween prompt of the month is “Costume.”
Flower of the Day, Oct. 31, 2016
When I went down to walk around Audrey’s garden during the party, I spied this spectacular large bloom Looks like she has a good crop of bananas this year! I know she had bananas in July as well, so there must be more than one crop a year.
Audrey’s Halloween Hoedown
(Click on first photo to enlarge all.)
For more party shots, look HERE.
BP and Me
BP and Me
Cook a bowl of oatmeal and throw some apples in.
Cinnamon and cranberries and walnuts are no sin.
Gotta get the pressure down––of both my life and blood.
So no more salting French fries or pies of chocolate mud.
I exercise enough, I think, nighttimes in the pool;
but midnight trips out to the fridge brand me as a fool.
So a giant bowl of oatmeal with milk that is nonfat
and a bit more exercising where I once just sat
will guarantee I’ll live at least to one hundred twenty.
I’ll have lower blood pressure and zip I’ll have aplenty.
There is no secret to long life and staying young and burlier.
The answer lies in giving up life’s pleasures a bit earlier.
The prompt word today is “Giant.” (It’s not too obvious what this poem has to do with the prompt word until the second stanza, but originally, I had “giant bowl of oatmeal” in the first line. Alas, no rhyme presented itself, so “giant” got relegated to a bit further down in the poem and became less relevant. Oh well. Main purpose of the prompts is to get us started, anyway.)
Bougainvillea Triplets: Flower of the Day, Oct 30, 2016
Creepy Creatures: JNW’s Halloween Challenge, Oct. 30, 2016
The prompt word today was “Creatures.”
A river between us, each high on a ridge.
If we’re ever to meet, we must build a bridge.
But it’s hard to accomplish unless we take hand
to collect the cement, the gravel and sand.
So those of us tired of manual labors—
not given to chitchatting much with our neighbors—
can go on our blogs to find our own kind,
constructing bridges purely of mind.
Blogging is great to bring folks together
on separate continents, in any weather.
We can be lazy, me here and you there,
building our bridges with ease, through the air.
Not over yet! Now click on this URL:
The prompt today was “bridge.”
Knock, Knock! JNWs Halloween Challenge, Oct 29, 2016
Which doors would you knock on?
Full Moon: JNW’s Halloween Challenge, Oct 28, 2016
I can’t resist taking photos of the full moon. Perhaps this is why:
The Moon is Full and Waiting
The moon is full and waiting, and though the night is chill,
my true love expects me over yonder hill.
His ardent call invites me to join him for the night,
and yet I dread the cold cold wind and the failing light.
If I were only twenty, I’d have no choice to make;
but I have guests arriving and sweet bites yet to bake.
My true love lies waiting over yonder hill,
but he’ll return another night. I am sure he will,
for he has no other to overlook his flaws:
the roughness of his ardor, the power of his jaws.
His embrace often bruises, though this is not his intent.
In the excess of his ardor, only tenderness is meant.
The warm cave of our meeting carves out yonder hill,
but tonight I will not join him. It may be I never will.
Tomorrow night the full moon will partially be spent,
and perhaps on next month’s equal, once more I won’t relent.
Perhaps I’ll find another closer to my kind,
though an equal to his passion I’m unlikely to find.
A swift wind blows the clouds away to clear the shrouded moon.
My guests will be arriving. I know it will be soon.
I stir in leavening powder. I stir in heavy cream.
Across the hand I stir with falls the moon’s broad beam.
I drop the spoon and go again to open up the door.
I hear the gentle song of wind, my lover’s beckoning roar.
I answer with a beat of blood. A spasm in my thigh
invites me to be climbing over distant hill and high.
The crumbs fall from my fingers as I run into the night.
I do not feel the bruising stones or the wind’s cold bite.
My lover calls me onward, and once again I go.
For when the full moon calls me, not once have I said no.
(If this poem sounds familiar, it is because it is a rewrite of one I posted earlier. It is just so appropriate for today’s photo prompt, that I couldn’t resist posting it again.)