Author Archives: lifelessons

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About lifelessons

My blog, which started out to be about overcoming grief, quickly grew into a blog about celebrating life. I post daily: poems, photographs, essays or stories. I've lived in countries all around the globe but have finally come to rest in Mexico, where I've lived since 2001. My books may be found on Amazon in Kindle and print format, my art in local Ajijic galleries. Hope to see you at my blog.

Slurry with the Fringe on Top

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Slurry with the Fringe on Top

Can’t you see it, my fine sir?
Your life is one long racial slur,
combined with the disdain you feel
for a fine calf in a high heel.
You rail and sputter, rage and roar
until your scorn becomes a bore.
A petulant and spoiled child,
you bring out what is dark and wild
in those you seek to represent,
’til all of us are madness bent.

Others seek to stem the tide.
They match your vain despotic pride
with reason, kindness, calls for peace.
On their calm waters, you float like grease.
How can our country have sunk this low?
We’re  pulled out by your undertow.
We struggle here, in sight of land
where calm  and justice have been banned.

You are the antithesis to reason.
Charged with infamy and treason,
you simply hold a mirror to 
the truth and say it isn’t you!
Slinging charges wild and truthless,
you show your nature: vain and ruthless.
You pollute our rivers, offend our friends.
The harm you do just never ends.

The principles of our constitution
cry out for their restitution.
These shores that welcomed your family
call out for equality.
Those rights women have fairly won
are not yet ready to be done.
WE THE PEOPLE seek to be heard.
We’re tired of actions we find absurd.
In place of your outrageous gall,

we seek your silence once and for all!

The prompt today was slur.

 

Artful Playing

The art play day I planned for today was actually scheduled for tomorrow, so I’m all set, and a friend just came by and wants me to go dancing, so I’m off. (In case you are confused by that last statement, let me explain that I mistakenly prepared a day early and was all set up and waiting for Jan and Mazinka to arrive when I discovered I was a day off.)  Here are some of the preparations I’ve made for tomorrow’s collage art experience.  Each of us is to bring a bag for each of the others that has 10 objects for collage in it.  I had boards cut and have  paint, sand paper and other things to cover the boards with if needed.. Then we will play.  Morrie’s supervising some of the “found” wood objects I collected for collage.  The bags are my objects for the others (and me.) Tables are covered with oil cloth.  One more I will borrow from the beach restaurant next door.  He carried it over this morning, then I had to carry it back when I realized I  was a day off.  Tools, glue and other “needs” are on the table inside ready to be carried out to the porch tomorrow.  Morrie will be no help.  He’ll probably be tangled up in us all day.  Oh well.  Perhaps I can keep him up all night and he’ll sleep in tomorrow.  Fellow artists arrive at 10.  I’m off to Palapa Joe’s to meet Glen and Mario.  Below is a photo of the note she left me on my “art” table on the porch today, built from cut-off zip ties left over from “Morrie guarding” the spiral staircase with screening so he won’t bother the new upstair neighbors.  Tess and Erin taught him how to climb the stairs–now no way to keep him downstairs and out of the upstairs rooms without this precaution.

Click on first photo to enlarge all and read captions.

Palm Fruiting Stem: Cee’s Flower of the Day, Feb 22, 2017

Click on any image to enlarge and view as slide show.

 

The fruiting stems of each variety of palm are different, but they are all as beautiful as flowers to my eye.  They do flower, but are so messy–thousands of the blooms ending up in my pool filter and on my decks.  These are someone else’s problem, however, as I found them on the street in La Manz. I just get to enjoy them.
For Cee’s Flower Challenge

The Juice of Human Kindness

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I am making guacamole for the play date I’m having with two other collage artists tomorrow.  I am shocked when I see the time is 11:45 p.m. shortly after I’ve also discovered I’m out of limes.  Lack of sleep and the later hour have made me forget what I know well–that guacamole won’t darken if you bury the pit in it. I can only think that an hour’s work disinfecting and chopping onions, cilantro, garlic, tomatoes and four giant avocados will be for naught unless I locate a limón (key lime–Mexico’s answer to limes) or two. Dozens of bars and restaurants on my street—and little markets—all closed. Except for one restaurant with tables in the square that pops up every evening and disappears at closing time. Luckily, since they have to put away all the chairs and tables each night, they were just locking up.  I asked if I could buy a lime, and the cook took me into the kitchen, which she was just getting ready to lock up, and said they only had a few left but to take what I needed from the grocery bag that contained seven tiny limóns.  I took three and asked how much.  She wouldn’t take money, so I gave her a hug.  I love Mexico.

Rhythm Method

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(The poem I’ve written below is based on the “Five Principles for Getting through the Trump Years,” given by Alice Walker in her speech at a reading in La Manzanilla, Mexico two nights ago on February 20, 2017. I was fortunate enough to be at that reading where she and four other excellent writers also talked about subjugation, prejudice, inequality, poverty and the importance of kindness, open-mindedness, acceptance and education in bringing our country to a better level of fairness to all.  I’ll talk about some of the other poets and storytellers who told their tales in a later post; but for today, and since it fit in with today’s prompt, here is my take on Ms. Walker’s wonderful talk.)

Rhythm Method

You’ve got to listen to the beat.
Shake your booty, pound your feet.
If you want to survive the day,
the rhythm method is the way.
It’s been said by smarter folks than I
that it’s the way that we’ll get by
in times we think we won’t survive—
the way we stay fully alive
in spite of voters who were hazy
and voted in a man who’s crazy.

Instead of listening to his bleat,

until the time of his defeat,
first and foremost, kindness will
help us to swallow this bitter pill.
A close connection with nature might
help us stay strong in the fight.
Respect for all those elders who
just might be another hue:

native tribes or Africans
brought unwillingly as hands
to shore up our economy
and build a country for you and me
while they paid the awful fee
in poverty and slavery.
It’s time to set our people free!

Gratitude for human life,
both theirs and ours, will allay strife.
In times like these, less than enhancing,
“Hard times demand furious dancing!”
One wiser and more in the groove
than I am, says that we must “Move!”
James Cleveland sang “This too shall pass,”
Turn on his music and move your ass.

Thousands of people dance along
this wonderful old gospel song
in her mind’s eye and I agree.
While we are waiting, you and me,
for enough others to see the light
and step in line to wage the fight,
we have to keep the joy in us
in spite of this unholy fuss
that seeks to keep us frightened and
prisoners in our native land.

Instead of knives and swords and guns,
defeat the tyrant with jokes and puns.
Comedians will save the day
and keep us laughing on the way.
But in the mean time, move your feet.
Feel the rhythm. Feel the beat.
If this nation has a chance,
perhaps we’ll find it in the dance.

The quotations above are all from Alice Walker’s talk. In prose form, here again are her five principles for getting through the Trump years (or hopefully, months.)

1. Kindness, which can keep us going through these unkind times.

2. A close connection with nature.

3. Respect for our oldest biological ancestors including native Americans (specifically those at Standing Rock), Africans  (who survived the fierce physical brutality of slavery) and Europeans such as John Brown and Susan B. Anthony.

4.  ‘Move!  Hard times demand furious dancing.’ Reverend James Cleveland sang, “This too shall pass.”  Get a recording of it and dance to it! She has an image of thousands of people dancing to this wonderful gospel song.

5. Maintain gratitude for human life.

She ended by relating the importance of meditation, which she described as a means “to rediscover the blue sky that is our mind,” and by stating that one way we can overcome the constant bad news with which our oppressors drug us is to learn the bad news first from comedians. This, perhaps, is one way for us to get through this dark period in our history.

The prompt today was rhythmic.

Zinnias of Mexico Hue: Flower of the Day, Feb 21, 2017

Are these Mexico colors or what?  Found these zinnias on the street outside the Bahia Azul restaurant.  I’ll tell you a story tomorrow about why Morrie is 86’d from this restaurant.

 

img_0726https://ceenphotography.com/2017/02/21/flower-of-the-day-february-22-2017-daffodil/

Looking Down on Things

My favorite thing to do is to look down, Cee!  Thanks for this prompt.

 

https://ceenphotography.com/2017/02/21/cees-fun-foto-challenge-looking-down-at-things/

Hide-and-go-seek

One often used technique is to take your photo in the bathroom mirror, but oops.. remember not to put the camera in front of your face.

Hide-and-go-seek

She enters my hideout and calls it her own.
Now I’ll have to move on, for my cover is blown.
I try to go deeper into my lair
but still she follows, finding me there.
I cannot escape her. She has all my keys.
She blows through my memory like a fine breeze,
usurping my details to make them her own
so I can’t reclaim them, wherever they’ve blown.
From a full-body mirror, she stares back at me.
My elbow’s her elbow. My knee is her knee.
She alters my hairdo and rouges my cheeks.
She searches my memory, looking for leaks,
then piles the lost parts up in her poems,
through her underground railroad, gives them new homes.
When I see myself spread out here in these pages,
some private part of me protests and rages,
but she doesn’t listen. She finds me too fussy.
She leaves herself open, the ungrateful hussy.
Does she not realize that it is me
who has made her whatever she’s turned out to be?
She should listen more closely when I say to stop.
Allow me to be her poetry cop.
But she doesn’t mind. She says what she wishes.
She dines out on me and leaves me with the dishes!

The prompt word today was “hideout.”

Tuesdays of Texture, Week 8

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

Scraps of Her

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Scraps of Her

She was the glitter
in our all-too-literal lives.
She left a trail of it,
our littlest fairy. 
It was the dust of her,
like that perfume half
school glue and half strawberries.
All these little paths she created in our lives—
the silliness and dainty nylon net of her,
with sand spilling from her overall pockets
and shed-off Barbie Doll parts left like
clues: one tiny shoe, a pink plastic door
from her convertible.

These small reminders once filled our house
and some of them remained when she no longer did.
We find them like the droppings of her 
in infrequently visited drawers,
the corners of cupboards 
and the hidden pockets of the sofa.

I find her signs as I empty vacuum cleaner bags—
a tail of glitter through the dust that, unaware,
she left like breadcrumbs through the forest of our memories.

Little girl.  All grown up.
Off in a different world
that is like a new game of her own concocting,
this house a scrapbook
we would never choose to remove her from.

The prompt today was “glitter.”