Monthly Archives: August 2017

Share Your World, Aug 7, 2017

 

This challenge, posted each month by Cee, asks that the participant answer a number of questions.  Here are this month’s questions and answers:

What was the last URL that you bookmarked or saved?

https://narami.wordpress.com/category/tuesdays-of-texture/

Do you believe in the afterlife?  Reincarnation?

I find it easier to believe in reincarnation than the afterlife.

If you were or are a writer do you prefer writing short stories, poems or novels?

Poems. I don’t have the patience for writing novels and although I started out writing short stories, I haven’t written a short story for a long time.

What inspired you this past week?  Feel free to use a quote, a photo, a story, or even a combination.

I’m always inspired by the WordPress Daily Prompt word.  Sometimes they seem impossible to write about, but it takes me into a different part of my mind when I go ahead and accept the challenge.

Even though I oftentimes will add photos to my answers, it is not a requirement to participate in Share your World.

Here are a few pictures chronicling my week so far (Click on first photo to enlarge and read captions):

If a movie was made based on your life, what actor/actress would play you?

Laura Linney.

If you could be famous for one thing, what would it be?

Writing.

For Cee’s prompt:  https://ceenphotography.com/2017/08/07/share-your-world-august-7-2017/

Childhood Wishes

daily life color162

Childhood Wishes

All those aimless childhood gambols—
dawn to dusk spontaneous ambles.
Up the block and down again,
back once more to where we’d been,
Hoping things perhaps had changed—
something misplaced, someone deranged.
But still, we found each of our homes
as regular as metronomes.
Day to day, each time we came,
everything was just the same.

How we craved a big event.
A calamity would be heaven-sent.
News to share in Sunday school
pithier than the Golden Rule.
We yearned for things to brag about
to cause town tongues to wag about.
Some juicy news or disaster that
served as excuse to chew the fat.
Instead, our lives were all the norm.
Safe and regular and warm.

We Monopolied and kicked the can.
We walked and biked and hopped and ran.
Combed back yards for a four leaf clover.
Played blind man’s bluff and Annie-I-Over.
But still we yearned for something new.
Felt caught in long hot summer’s glue.
Stones kicked down roads by summer sandals
attempts to dislodge unearthed scandals.
Little did we know one day
we’d be called upon to pay

Our debt for wishes finally granted.
Yet how we cursed and wept and ranted
when all those asked-for ills befell us.
Why didn’t anybody tell us
that normalcy is everything—
those quiet times that soon took wing.
Telephones first brought the news
of all those things we’d one day lose:
old pets, old dreams, old friends and spouses.
Totalled cars, repossessed houses.

War and pestilence and hunger?
We did not know when we were younger
that they were not simply a game.
We did not know that casting blame
on those responsible would fail.
For rich men do not go to jail.
They buy our votes then do their deeds
so no man but they ever succeeds.
And never can they get enough
as they cloak our eyes in blind man’s bluff.
But oh the scandals we now can tell.
Our childhood wishes realized so well.

The prompt word today was amble.

Zeroing in: Sunday Trees 299

I think my friend thought I was crazy as I pulled over to the side of the road to take photos of this tree.  We were meeting her husband for lunch and he was probably waiting for us.  But, I couldn’t neglect to honor this anciano. It is a coincidence that Becca just happens to have chosen a similar subject today. Good choice, Becca.  You can see her contribution below.

https://beccagivens.wordpress.com/2017/08/06/sunday-trees-299/

Shimmering Locks

I found this poem written a year and a half ago that perfectly reflects today’s prompt word  shimmer. Since I had totally forgotten it, you probably have, too, so please read below:

lifelessons's avatarlifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown

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Locks

Locked up in my bedchamber. More than I can bear.
The beauty of my countenance, the shimmer of my hair
do me no good for no prince charming comes to find me here.
I will go unmarried––for my whole life, I fear.

My father thinks he honors me. I am his special treasure.
He worries not about my fate.  He thinks not of my pleasure.
I am but one more lovely thing he keeps for his collection––
admired for my golden locks, my flawless pale complexion.

I care not for beauty.  I care not for my tresses.
I do not treasure jewels or slippers or my ornate dresses.
A husband and a family are all that I desire.
A simple life’s the sort of life that I most admire.

From my window I look out upon the broad King’s Highway.
All roads must converge here––every path and byway.
And so I see…

View original post 640 more words

Gerber Daisy 2: Flower of the Day, Aug 6, 2017

IMG_0035jdbphoto. Although it doesn’t look like it, this is a closeup of a real flower.

 

For Cee’s flower prompt.

Flowering Schefflera Tree: Flower of the Day, Aug 5, 2017

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I have been trying to discover the name of this flower for fifteen years.  They are on trees that flower so high above the ground that you can only see them from a distance.  Last year, I photographed a smaller variety next to the car wash in Ajijic.  When I photographed this one at the Nueva Posada two days ago, it was from very far away but decided to use it today anyway.  It was when I cropped it a bit that I suddenly remembered what the leaves remind me of.  Sure enough, I finally identified it as a variety of schefflera called the flowering schefflera or octopus tree!  Now if I can just remember it next time.  (Also known as the schefflera arbicola.)

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For Cee’s flower prompt.

Unscheduled Visitor

 

Unscheduled Visitor

I hear a rapid rapping and I’m wondering, “Who is it?”
It’s too early in the morning for a casual drop-in visit.
I’m still in my pajamas and the dogs and cats aren’t fed.
How can company be calling while I’m still here in bed?

The knocking is insistent but I have no way to spy
upon whatever passer-by refuses to pass by.
My intercom is broken, so I call out from the door,
“Who is it?” but it’s obvious they aren’t there anymore.

I wander back to bed again, feeling somewhat tense.
Only when I’m sleeping does the knocking recommence.
“Who is it?” I scream out again, accenting every vowel.
The dogs sense my frustration and they begin to howl.

My bedroom sliders are open, so my voice soars over the wall.
Any passerby could hear if they could hear at all.
But still nobody answers. This Saturday morning’s still.
There are no other noises up here on my hill.

No car horns and no dog barks. No children’s noisy play.
No birdcalls. No construction to mar this quiet day.
Except for my invectives as the rappings start again—
louder, oh much louder than they have ever been.

As I charge out of my front door, I grab for an umbrella—
in case I need a weapon to fight off some unknown fella
intent on ruining my day, but when I turn the key
and open wide my front wall gate, there’s no one there but me!

I roar in my frustration. The whole town must hear my wails.
I throw that damn umbrella. Over the wall it sails.
I stalk back to my room and pull the covers over my head,
praying for more silence, but what I get instead

is the steady rat-tat-tatting that now upon reflection
seems to emanate from a different direction.
I draw aside my bedroom drapes and wonder, “What the heck?”
sweeping my sight across my yard, I finally crane my neck

and see it far up in a palm—an industrious woodpecker
whose ruthless drilling is the thing that’s been my sleep-in wrecker!
I cannot throw a shoe at him for I can’t throw that far.
If I tried to knock a golf ball up, I’d be far over par.

At last I view with humor this ridiculous affair,
and so I pull on Levis and smooth my ruffled hair.
I shuffle off to feed the dogs, the kittens and the cat
and just accept as music this rat-a-tat-tat-tat.

 

The prompt today is casual.

Gerber Daisy: Flower of the Day, Aug 4, 2017

IMG_0045

 

See Cee’s gorgeous clematis here: https://ceenphotography.com/2017/08/03/short-break-and-flower-of-the-day-august-4-2017-clematis/

No Partner?

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The Dance

Cheek to cheek and toe to toe,
graceful dancers come and go
smoothly passing me while I 
sit motionless, with dancing eye.
Jealousy may rear its head
as I wish that it were me, instead—
held securely in my partner’s arms,
guided surely away from harms
of other dancers’ straying feet
or jutting elbows I might meet.

I might feel sorry, sitting there,
no arms around me—only air.
Then I remember in the past
dancing nights I thought would last.
How all those partners have stepped away—
even the ones I hoped would stay.

Life has a way of leaving us
like hopeful riders passed by the bus
as it soars away with no seat left
those left behind feeling bereft.
Then I look deeper and clearly see
one day that bus will stop for me.
Something heavy grows inside
where it’s not good for it to bide.
I scoot back my chair to shift that stone
as I get up and dance alone.

Steered through dangers into bliss,
barely meeting the floor’s long kiss,
I soar and bend and sway and glide,
giving way to what’s inside,
the music coming to live in me
setting all that’s in me free.
Stirring sadness at my core
and leaving it upon the floor
for other dancers to kick away
while only light parts choose to stay
within my heart as I dance on
from dark of night into the dawn.

 

The prompt today was partner. I have an early meeting today, so this is a rewrite of a poem written a few years ago.

Tuesdays of Texture 31 and WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge: Textures

jdbphotos   Please click on one to enlarge all.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/textures/

https://narami.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/tuesdays-of-texture-week-31-of-2017/