Monthly Archives: January 2019

Some Good Stuff for a Change

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My friend Gloria sent me this in an email.  My eyes are still streaming tears. There are so many small and large acts of kindness we can do every day to have an influence on the world. I vow to do at least one today. Hope you might want to do the same. (Sorry, but I don’t know the original source. If you know, let me know and I’ll add an URL or acknowledgement.)

    There are still so many good people in our world that we hear so little about. 

 

This Is Anthony Borges,  He Used His Body To Hold A Classroom Door Shut During The Florida Shooting, Protecting 20 Other Students Inside As The Gunman Fired Through The Door, Hitting Him Five Times. May He Have A Speedy Recovery
This Is Anthony Borges, 15. He Used His Body To Hold A Classroom Door Shut During The Florida Shooting, Protecting 20 Other Students Inside As The Gunman Fired Through The Door, Hitting Him Five Times. May He Have A Speedy Recovery
Firefighters In Arizona Putting Out A Mexican Fire over a wall
Firefighters In Arizona Putting Out A Mexican Fire
When You Reach 100 Years Old In Barbados, You Get A Stamp In Your Honour. Lovely
When You Reach 100 Years Old In Barbados, You Get A Stamp In Your Honour. Lovely
A Middle School Started A “Breakfast With Dads” Program But Many Dads Couldn’t Make It And Several Students Didn’t Have Father Figures. The School Posted A Facebook Request For 50 Volunteer Fathers… 600 Fathers From All Backgrounds Showed Up
A Middle School Started A “Breakfast With Dads” Program But Many Dads Couldn’t Make It And Several Students Didn't Have Father Figures. The School Posted A Facebook Request For 50 Volunteer Fathers... 600 Fathers From All Backgrounds Showed Up
Every Morning My Father Places Bird Food In The Yard For My Mother To Wake Up On This View
Every Morning My Father Places Bird Food In The Yard For My Mother To Wake Up On This View
The Bride’s Father Died Ten Years Ago And His Heart Was Donated. The Man Who Received The Transplant Walked Her Down The Aisle
The Bride's Father Died Ten Years Ago And His Heart Was Donated. The Man Who Received The Transplant Walked Her Down The Aisle
“Life Gave Me The Gift Of You” – Marine’s 4 Year Old Son Cries Tears Of Joy After Hearing New Step-Mom’s Vows For Him
https://static.boredpanda.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/faith-in-humanity-restored-wholesome-happy-random-acts-of-kindness-175-5a8a97bdaf6b6__700.jpg
This Old Lady Goes To The Supermarket To Read Books All The Time So The Manager Put A Little Bench For Her
This Old Lady Goes To The Supermarket To Read Books All The Time So The Manager Put A Little Bench For Her
Pictures like these ease the anguish created by the 
current daily news.

Flower-Like, FOTD Jan 31, 2019

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These tiny coral growths on this palm-sized rock I picked up on the beach may not literally be flowers, but perhaps the moss qualifies.  At any rate, they are beautiful and flower-like. Had to share them.

See Cee’s gorgeous hellibore Here.

Stasis

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jdbphoto

Stasis

At the zenith of her powers, the glamorous Ms. Z
knew well the art of camouflage. No one could really see
the heretic that lived inside the one in the first pew.
Not even her most loyal friends knew she was a Jew.

Times call for extreme measures, whatever might protect
and preserve us from dark powers, who if they detect
any threatening differences might decide to strike.
One yesterday thought “charming,” today just labeled “kike!”

What small differences between us do we all obscure?
What hidden denials must we all endure?
Convention is a schoolmarm with a ruler in her hand
ready to dish out punishment for any action banned.

One drop of blood not Aryan or thought that’s not mainstream,
any errant choice of style, any avant dream
might be grounds for action, for all good people know
the harm that comes from those who might upset the status-quo.

 

 

 

*kike is derived from the Hebrew word for circle, which is the mark many jews made on their immigration papers coming into America instead of an X for their signature.  Like many other racial slurs, it came from immigration officers who used it a s short-hand for a population group entering the country.

 

The prompt words today are camouflage, heretic, glamorous and zenith.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/01/31/rdp-thursday-camouflage/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/01/31/fowc-with-fandango-heretic/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/01/31/your-daily-word-prompt-glamorous-january-31-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/01/31/zenith/

Southern Discomfort

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Southern Discomfort

A barrage of dainty words like “Bless her heart!” and “Y’all.”
greeted me as I approached the entrance to the ball.
As I turned this and that way to fit me through the door,
it was then that I regretted the hoop skirt that I wore.
Finally giving it a yank and then one great yank more,
I fear I heard a ripping sound as something in there tore.

I grabbed a small mint julep from the tray that passed me by,
but waved away the country ham, eschewed the pecan pie,
for the merry widow that I was squeezed  into
already had me short of breath and slowly turning blue.
A few spins around the dance floor with something in my shoe,
convinced me that my southern ball experience was through.

We exited the ballroom, motored out of the plantation,
and in the backseat I surrendered to severe temptation.
Like those giant pythons that shed their skins in zoos,
I peeled off my merry widow and my ball gown and my shoes.
My hoop skirt parachuting out the window brought a smile
as I disposed of finery mile after mile.

As we drew up to the levee and approached the shrimping docks,
I drew on my old Levis and a t-shirt and my Crocs.
By then my southern gentlemen was through with me, I fear.
He was driving rather fast and grinding every gear.
So it won’t be any news to you that our romance was through.
“Southern” is just something that this northern girl can’t do.

 

 

Prompt words used in this post were news, dainty and barrage. Photo is stock footage from “Gone with the Wind.”

https://fivedotoh.com/2019/01/30/fowc-with-fandango-news/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/01/30/your-daily-word-prompt-dainty-january-30-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/01/30/barrage/

Favorite Quote: Day 3: Wanderlust

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This is what I had to say about wanderlust four years ago!

The prompt from RDP today is wanderlust.

lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown

IMG_0579

A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it. ~George Moore

This quote says succinctly what I have been saying to friends lately.  I no longer feel the push to travel but would rather stay home and think and write.  At first this made me feel old and then I started to realize that it is in the natural order of things to seek and then reflect.  It is not just a question of energy, but more a matter of the direction of one’s curiosity.  The more I traveled, the more I found that things do not vary that much.  Everywhere I’ve gone, the same personalities are sprinkled over the landscape.  Only the landscape and the percentages change.  Once you’ve found a place where there are the greatest number of people who appreciate you for who you really are, you have…

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Beach Elf (or Leprechaun?)

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I just have to publish a photo in Kammie’s Oddball challenge this week, as I’d forgotten about this photo I took a few days ago.  Little did I know I would capture one of the little people as he took his morning rest on this picnic table down the beach from my house. So here you have it.  Proof! Is it an elf or a leprechaun? The town 15 kilometers away was settled by Irish mercenaries after the Mexican War of Independence and is called San Patricio Melaque (St. Patrick is its patron saint) so I vote for Leprechaun.

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For Kammie’s Oddball Challenge.

Levels of Agility

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Levels of Agility

As I crossed the meadow, I saw a large tree
that seemed to be perfect for climbing to me.
Its shade was inviting and seemed to create
a suitable topic for a debate.
Could I ascend its formidable trunk
and my lack of agility thereby debunk?
Or would I fall down with a tremendous clunk
and wind up in a heap in a terrible funk?

I’ve a poor sense of balance and that could create
a fall that could ruin my mobility rate.
I could fall on my head and get a sound crack
or break both my legs or my neck or my back
or get tangled in branches to such a degree
that they’d need a buzz saw to extricate me.
All in all, my decision finally made,
I spread out a blanket and lay in its shade.

Prompt words for today are balance, tree, inviting and create.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/01/29/rdp-tuesday-balance/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/01/29/fowc-with-fandango-tree/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/01/29/your-daily-word-prompt-inviting-january-29-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/01/29/create/

The Dogs Are Barking

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The dVerse Poets prompt requires that we write a quadrille–a poem of 44 words––making use of the word “steep.”  To do so, I rewrote an earlier poem so it became a 5 stanza poem, each stanza forming a quadrille. I wonder how many other poets share this experience as they are awakened from dreams by one means or another:

The Dogs Are Barking

They break the morning––a daily rite.
It’s just a warning. The dogs won’t bite.
Two strangers talk but pass unseen.
I doze, they walk, with a wall between.
I try to sink back into sleep,
once more to drink of waters deep,

trying to slip between the seams
of the surface of my dreams
but the dogs still bark. They leap and pace.
My dreams, not ready for this morning place,
lie dark and deep and intertwined,
wanting to creep back up my mind.

But its steep slope is much inclined
and provides small hope that I will find
once more that world well out of sight
where truth lies curled, still holding tight––
as an oyster cleaving, loath to unfurl
and reveal to light the priceless pearl

of that mind of dreams that slips the knife
beneath the rind of daily life.
Time is a brew of present, past
and future, too—all tenses cast
to bring to light those grains of sand
made pearls of wisdom by nature’s hand.

Dreams are stories we tell ourselves
and share, perhaps, on bookstore shelves.
Pinned to pages, they reach their height
and bring our sage self to the light.
But the dogs are barking. They’re hungry, cross.
When I rise feed them, the poem is lost

dVerse Poets Quadrille prompt is steep.