Is it just me, or do the upside-down shoes look sorta angry and threatening? I think these shoes could give a toddler a complex.
Yes, you are correct. This sign in Spanish is telling us not to molest the crocodiles! I trust on the other side was a sign telling the crocodiles not to molest us! For the rest of the story, go here.
http://ceenphotography.com/2014/12/21/cees-odd-ball-photo-challenge-week-42/
Why Dorothy Parker Remains a Good Sport in the Heat
Dorothy Parker at the beach,
a dry martini within reach.
Lots hotter than the Algonquin.
Heat dissipates when served with gin!
Why Picasso is Not a Beach Person
Picasso simply can’t abide
that fish with both eyes on one side.
If from the norm he wants to vary,
he’ll have to paint it ordinary!
Why Kim Kardashian Should Have Another Helping of French Fries
Kim Kardashian made a shelf
of the back side of herself.
If she wants to make a chair,
she’d better add some more back there.
The Prompt: Cause, Meet Effect—You can singlehandedly create a causal relation between two things that are currently unconnected — a word and an emotion, a song and an extreme weather event, wearing a certain color and winning the lottery. What cause would you link to
what effect, and why?
When she wears it, worlds collide.
Men collect on either side.
Women seek her company.
Children seek to grace her knee.
Potentates, senators, kings
bring her necklaces and rings.
Scholars write her name in books.
Jealous women exchange looks.
There is hardly anything
that nature does not seek to bring.
Winds blow harder, streams divert
when she wears that saffron skirt.
The very heavens note where she went.
Tsunamis curl, volcanoes vent.
Soldiers line up to parade.
Mimes begin their mute charade.
Actors emote better to
this goddess in her sunny hue.
Mourning doves just bill and coo.
Old boyfriends seek her out anew.
Yet as she stands before her glass,
surveying both her front and ass,
her mate says, “Are you wearing that?”
and she surmises she looks too fat.
As she changes into basic black,
the lava cools, the seas hold back.
Her suitors cease their clamoring press.
She does not wear the yellow dress.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/cause-meet-effect/
Okay, here is a poem I read at my writers’ group today and they say I should post it. There was much controversy about how to pronounce Cuba Libres, but they’ve been my drink of choice for 40 years, so believe me, I know how they are pronounced outside of Spanish-speaking countries, and everywhere else (including Africa) Cuba Libre rhymes with zebra!
The Spinster and the White Hunter on Safari
After giraffes and elephants and zebras,
and one-too-many Cuba Libres,
love under white mosquito-netting
was not so much a matter of her letting
as it was of giving back what she was getting.
And then, the full picture of the detail I published for the “Yellow” photo challenge here. No, it isn’t crème brûlée. What it is is a detail of this detail:
Detail of a dead fish on the beach. Are those really eyelashes?
I really didn’t mean to fool you!
The Prompt: Final Trio—For our final trio prompt of the year, write about any topic you wish, but make sure your post features a bookcase, something cracked, and a song you love.
When I came into the room
the bookcase, too heavily laden by far
had tipped and spilled our picture to the floor.
Its glass gathered with a broom,
the torn remains of us is saved here in a jar
I have neatly filed between fantasy and lore.
The Prompt: The holiday season: can’t get enough of it, or can’t wait for it all to be over already? Has your attitude toward the end-of-year holidays changed over the years?
I can’t get enough of any holiday, no matter how much it is commercialized. The world evolves. Whether we agree with the way it does so or not, the only thing we do have control over is our attitude, so I simply celebrate every holiday the way I want to celebrate it. This year, I’m at the beach for Christmas. For the past month, I’ve been collecting wonderful finds on the beach and putting together an altar that is comprised of a palm fruiting stem, flowers I’ve made out of egg cartons and all of the heart-shaped rocks that seem to have cropped up more frequently than ever before. I now have 60 or more of them that decorate both the fruiting stem “tree” and the altar around it. Then, I started seeing rocks in the shape of characters from a nativity Creche and constructed 15 creches which may be seen on my facebook page. You can connect with it here.
Contrary to what you might think from these pictures, I am not religious. I do hope that something exists outside of our physical realm, but I don’t comprehend exactly what it is. We all find the beliefs that get us through our lives, and I love the Christmas story (be it fact or myth), the Xmas memories, communion with family and friends, the decorations and celebrations.
It started with a palm fruiting stem washed ashore. I added flowers I made of cutouts from egg cartons, painted and glued together, then added pelican feathers and various heart-shaped shells and small stones found on beach walks.
Detail from tree.
I then covered a flowerpot with shell finds and cemented the “tree” into it.
Although I wanted the tree to be all natural, I quickly decided an Xmas tree without lights was not going to be enough! The mural behind the tree came with the rental house!
Details from the altar.
I’ve started sleeping on the futon in the living room to enjoy the tree by light strings and candlelight.
The Prompt: Hindsight is 20-20—What if you had the power to rewrite history? You do.
One of 15 creches I’ve made using material I’ve found on the beach
would have married the girl and had children
and been less overt with his teachings
of peace and love too radical
for a world immersed in their opposite.
He would then not have changed the world, perhaps,
but only lived in contrast
to that power popular among those who needed it
and effective in keeping those adverse to it quiet.
If he had married the girl, the world would probably have ended up
pretty much how it has anyway, but he might have had a different ending.
Grown old, had his cronies over to talk about the good old days,
converted water into wine and served them loaves and fishes.
Mary Magdalene would have danced for them in their memories,
and all of his grandchildren would have listened in awe
to hear the tales of how he walked on the water,
bade Lazarus to rise from the grave.
He would shush his cronies as they started in
with tales of how he smashed the souvenir stands
and threw the money changers out of the temple.
Not stories for young ears not quite ready to learn revolution.
And all of the ill done in his name might have happened anyway,
but at least he would have had a good life. Would have suffered less.
And some other savior might have found a way to save the world
that would have worked.
Note: It has been so long since I’ve been able to pingback that I’m posting this even though I wrote to the weekly prompt today instead of this one!
For a more remarkable poem that might have been the prequel to this one, but was actually written first, go here.
To celebrate my 400th posting, I am going to follow the “Poets and Writers” prompt instead of the WordPress one. To see their weekly prose and poetry prompts, go here: http://www.pw.org/writing-prompts-exercises
McPeevish McPue on a good day
The Prompt: Whimsical Creature—This week, write a whimsical, nonsensical poem about a creature you’ve dreamt up. Try to let go of the meanings associated with the words you use every day when describing this creature. Instead, use words as springboards for weird associations, as colors in a vast mural. Let your mind run wild and hang on for the ride.
Shooing with Tongue on the Tongue of a Shoe
There once was a grouch named McPeevish McPue
who spent his whole life on the tongue of a shoe
where he shooed away flintocks* and floogles* and stuff.
As a matter of fact, he would get downright rough.
He would beat them with bagels and flog them with floggles
from the foot of their feet to the top of their toggles.
Then he bopped them again every minute or two
till those flintocks and floogles were beat black and blue.
But they just wouldn’t leave until McPue had sung
a rock-a-bye ballad with only one lung.
Then they leapt and they lithered until they were gung.
Now McPeevish McPue only shoos with his tongue!
*Floogles: fairy folk who get even with grouches by spraying foot odor into their shoes daily.
*Flintocks: I’m not completely sure what flintocks are, other than the fact that they drive McPeevish McPue crazy. I’m counting on my readers to tell me more about them.
