Monthly Archives: January 2020

CNN Hero of the Year for 2019: Freweini Mebrahtu

https://edition.cnn.com/videos/world/2019/05/02/cnnheroes-mebrahtu-mixed.cnn

 

Fitting In

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Image by Pierrick Van Troost on Unsplash. Used by permission

Fitting In

He held his campaign kick-off in a colossal yurt,
clad in plaid Bermuda shorts and a rubber shirt.
His children were unruly, but his wife was slim and perky.
She dispensed campaign buttons that were colorful and quirky.
On them he wore colossal shoes, big pants and a red nose,
but she explained the reason for his eccentric clothes.
Why he wore the clownish clothes and the painted face
was to even out the odds for the senate race.
He wanted to fit in, he said, with others in the Senate
and look like all the other clowns who were sadly in it.
He won out by a landslide—an open and shut case—
proving once again that any fool can win a race.

Prompt words for today are shut, rubber, campaign, quirk and shirt.

Bougainvillea: FOTD Jan 9, 2020

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For Cee’s FOTD

Moving Water

 

For Cee’s B&W Challenge: Moving Water

At Play

 

 

Click on photos to enlarge

 

For the Photo a Week Challenge: Play.

Confluent Fidelity


Confluent Fidelity

It’s true that she was lusty, outlandish and gregarious,
with her behavior more or less branded as nefarious.
Her dance in life was often described as arabesque,
and when it came to marriages, her tale was Kafkaesque.
She mixed up her chronology, forgetting which came first.
Divorce or remarriage? She knew not which was worst:

bigamy or loneliness. She simply couldn’t stand
to be without a husband readily at hand.
She often stood with tearful eyes before a judge’s desk—
seemingly an angel, albeit, picaresque.
Somehow when it came to love, right and wrong conflated.
True love made her dizzy. She wound up addlepated.

A comely wrinkling of her brows, a pout, a tear, a sigh
and the judge forgave her. After all, he was a guy.
A simple tiny slap upon her unrepentant wrist
and a heartfelt promise that she would desist
from practicing plural marriage was always the decree—
guaranteeing her misdeeds in perpetuity.
So went her personal history. It seems that she was fated
to spend all her romantic life being  inundated
with husband after husband—one or two at a time—
for courtships left her weak-kneed and weddings were sublime.
Honeymoons her speciality, she found no fault with life
until it came to living it as just one man’s wife!

 

Photo by Alvin Mahmudov on Unsplash, used with permission

 

Prompt words today are gregarious, zest, personal, conflate and desk.

Poinsettia FOTD Jan 8 2020

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Just because Xmas is past doesn’t mean the poinsettias stop blooming!
This plant is inside on my desk where it keeps on giving.

For Cee’s FOTD

Timely Once Again, Marlene Sings “Where Have all the Flowers Gone”

The Butler and the Upstairs Maid

Photo by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash, used with permission

The Butler and the Upstairs Maid

The butler and the upstairs maid once freed from bed and table
resumed their hugs and kisses whenever they were able.
He wooed her in the garden shed, the pantry and the granary.
Not a place excluded from their extreme chicanery.

When traveling with her mistress, she could not help but fret.
His passions unabated, he was always in a sweat.
Within them both, the hormones were perpetually churning.
How could they do their duties with these fires of romance burning?

At last, master and mistress called the vicar of the parish.
What were they to do about this behavior most garish?
They met this couple making love at every hallway’s turning.
How were they to deal with these excesses of yearning?

The vicar in his wisdom knew the answer right away,
so the problems of their dalliance was able to allay.
Their passions once unquenchable were vanquished all too soon
as soon as they were back again from their honeymoon.

 

Prompt words for today are chicanery, sweat, turning, garish and table.

Your Touch

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Your Touch

As you turn over
in your sleep,

the pebbled grapefruit
of your cheek
grazes mine.

That swift percussion
of your heart
raises the blanket
stretched tight as a drum
between us.

Beat of your blood,
warmth of your thigh.
Your lips
another country,

divided from me
by that high border
of your shoulder
and the gravel of your heart.

Once, the touch of lips 
warm in their fervor,
rather than a mistake
in the night.

Once, the amaryllis
cast twilight
over our bed.
A harbinger

of yellow roses,
their petals fallen
over your pillow.
Their thorns.

 

For Weekly Scribblings  the prompt was to pick any three words from the given word list that fit the mood/theme of your prose or poem and write on a topic of your choice. 
amaryllis                  somewhat                percussion                darkness                  grapefruit
deep                           cast                         warmth                       blood                          touch
gravel                        twilight                    lips                              sky                             sleep
bedside                      scones                     fervour                      harbinger                 cogitation