Click on photos to enlarge. Go fast and you’ll see him move!
This was the final act in a local Lip-sync Show. I was too engaged to take many photos, but the temptation to bring out my phone for this one was not to be resisted. The flashy dancer here is Roy Haynes who is also the choreographer for “Jesus Christ Superstar” that is playing in our Lakeside Little Theater later this season.
These photos are from the Lip-sync Show which has staged its last performance, but In case you are curious about upcoming LLT productions this year HERE is a link.
Cold Truth
Those tasks she once squeezed in between the events of a real life consisting of job, social events, wifely duties and mom stuff, now filled out her day. The bare essentials of staying fed, clean and alive exhausted her. How had she ever fit all the rest in?
When she was just starting out on her career and teaching Native American Literature, she had balked at the cruelty of the tribes that set their elderly out to freeze in the cold winter air. It was the selfishness then that affected her— their unwillingness to feed, shelter and tend to their elderly.
She had never thought of it from the point of view of the ones being given these relatively kind deaths. What would she do when she was incapable of even the easiest tasks? Now she understood. Snow would be the easy way out.
For The dVerse Poets Pub “Snow would be the easy way out”
To see other responses to the prompt go HERE.
When I look in the mirror, I sometimes feel like I’m becoming my mother, but when I look at my arms, it is also revealed that I am becoming my grandmother. By the time she passed away at age 96, any effort to assist her in rising or sitting up by grasping her lower arms could result in the skin actually tearing off in pieces like tissue paper, and although not quite at this stage, At 76, I have grown fragile. My skin has become translucent, showing off deep blue or purple bruises from below given birth to by slight bumps or scrapings against even smooth surfaces—the edge of a table or a door. Small beads of blood flow out from tears of skin caught in a cat’s claw or a dog’s questing paw, and the skin of my lower arms is dappled with these signs of affection left by even the most furtive advances of the smallest of my dogs.
At night, in bed, I am a highway for dogs jumping into bed to snuggle down for the night and likewise for the same dogs springing from the bed to investigate the slightest noise in the backyard or the street. One bound, using me as trampoline, propels them to the floor, and one more, in a flash, shoots them out the door. Any stray possum or other late night intruder into their domain not driven off by their initial loud growls and following barks is dealt with in a snap of the jaw. No furtive ingress into my nighttime garden goes unnoticed. Then, the intruders dealt with, back into bed they bound, usually landing on one arm or the other, leaving yet another mark of their affection. They are my protective angels, these small warriors of the night, but I fear they are loving me to pieces, as one glimpse of my arms will attest to.
The words for Sunday Whirl Wordle 627 are: caught pieces snap flash angel stray furtive dappled flow skin translucent blue
I know. I have to stop publishing photos of these yellow hibiscuses, but they just keep putting out new blooms and I succumb. See the bud on this one, taken yesterday? It is probably in bloom today.
For Cee’s FOTD
For Cee’s FOTD
For the Lens Artists Challenge #274: Asymmetry
Meat Market Surprise
Her low-cut dress clearly bespoke
her dire need to meet a bloke.
When she removed her swathing cloak,
a dozen men at once awoke
from barroom reveries to choke
on swallows of their Rum and Coke
or beer or whisky. “Okeedoke!”
their eyes said, as they shared the joke.
Which one would have the night’s best poke?
One chugged his drink, as if to stoke
his courage. One more took a toke.
They circled round, craving the yoke
of one night’s spree–perhaps a soak
in penthouse hot tub most Baroque?
Then, as though wishes could invoke
more luck, a mini-skirt and toque-
clad example of fine womanfolk
appeared , more passions to provoke—
another goddess made to evoke
a duel, heart attack or stroke!
But then, alas, their bubbles broke
as she sauntered up and pulled an oak
stool to the bar and spoke.
Her voice was sultry—fire and smoke—
as she killed their dreams in one fell stroke.
“Darling,” she said to the other miss,
enfolding her in an ardent kiss.
For #SOCS: Meat (This is a reblog of a 2019 poem, but since all of my writing is stream of consciousness, I figure it meets the prompt.)
Here are the questions for Fibbing Friday, along with my answers:
1. Whose home planet is Skaro? Practitioners of the predecessors of reggae. This planet better known as Earth, their region as Jamaica.
2. What would you expect to find in Dinotopia? Really good fifties type food. Hamburgers and fries, hot beef sandwiches, strawberry malts.
3. Who was born on Krypton? Spawn of the living dead. In addition to being zombies, his folks were really bad spellers.
4. Where can you find Plutonium ? In comic books and cartoons along with Bugs and Porky.
5. What colour blood would a Martian have? This is a trick question. Martians (little green men) do not have blood but rather liquid chlorophyl coursing through their veins, thus their color.
6. Who’s home planet is Gallifrey? “In Gallifrey did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree!”
7. Who’s home world is Eternia? Home planet of the Kardashians…nature’s guarantee that we will never be rid of them.
8. What was the Hyborian Age? The present age of the hibernation of dinosaurs. In a few hundred years it will be over and they will re-emerge to take over the planet.
9. Where would you find Pellucidar? Let me be perfectly clear that such a planet is illusory and fictional.
10. What is Thedas? Anything that Theda wants!!!
For Fibbing Friday Image by Nsey Benajah on Unsplash
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 