
It took me a while to notice the little visitor on this bougainvillea branch.
See Cee’s lovely bud HERE.

It took me a while to notice the little visitor on this bougainvillea branch.
See Cee’s lovely bud HERE.
My bloodline’s scattered here and there—
a genealogist’s nightmare.
Racially, I’m broadly mixed.
The KKK would have me fixed.
My lineage being under-par,
I cannot join the D.A.R.
I have no claims to royalty,
so my name is title-free.
Who I am is merely me.
For this I need no pedigree!
The prompt word today is pedigree.
Every so often, nosy Cee wants to know what we’ve been up to. I often forget to play, but here are my answers for this week along with some extra info:
Complete this sentence: This sandwich could really use some …teeth in it.
What is your least favorite candy? Licorice
What sign are you? Do you believe in astrology? Cancer. I have the same attitude toward astrology as I do toward religion. I would like to believe in it and at times behave as though I do but I am skeptical. I would still always read my horoscope if I subscribed to a paper, as I occasionally pray when in an extremely harrowing situation. I am a great believer in synchronicity and the interconnectedness of the universe. Perhaps they are all one and the same thing.
What did you appreciate or what made you smile this past week? So, my week has been a time of dinner out with friends complete with Mexican dancers, Mexican train, film nights at my house, swims in the pool between rainstorms, trees blooming all over town, smashed fingers, cut fingers, burned fingers, roof repairs, hurricane-strength winds, trees down, electrical outages, picking up after hurricane-strength winds, rainfall, towels and bowls under leaks, cats in every corner of the house escaping the rain, broken fingernails and removing the domed clear skylight (which is cracked in two places and leaking during rainstorms) in the middle of my 18 foot high dome. After they removed the frosted skylight, the sky shone bright blue through the opening and clouds drifted by. All too soon, however, they’d covered it with a clear piece of plastic and tarps which plunged the room into a gloomy darkness. It will be this way until they return with a new domed skylight custom-crafted to fit exactly as the old one did.
I had always known how responsible that skylight was for the light in the room, but I was surprised at the degree to which it served as a sun for my world. In spite of glass walls on 1 ½ sides, the otherwise cheerful room developed shadows and an all-over sort of gloominess that had me turning on every light available. Still, I feel the gloom of my shadowed world as I type this. Here are a few photos to illustrate:
Click on any photo to enlarge all, read captions and see slide series.
One question, though. Why do I keep hurting my fingers????
For: https://ceenphotography.com/2018/05/14/share-your-world-may-14-2018/

Chocolate
You’re being good and I am not.
I broke my diet and got caught.
I’d have resisted if I could,
but chocolate cake just looked so good.
I bought a piece, not a whole cake.
I thought a meal of it I’d make.
But now you feel you must rebut
my obvious need for chocolate.
Will you soon go? It’s getting late,
and there’s this chocolate on my plate.
And though I know it’s impolite,
the chances that I’ll share are slight.
Of your smug lecture I’ve had enough
and now it’s my turn to be tough.
If you must fall from your high throne
and dine on cake, go buy your own!
The prompt word today is slight.
Pen and Ink
The pen that stands, clipped and inert
in the pocket of your shirt
has no power on its own
so long as it is left alone,
but once held upright in your grip,
free of cap and free of clip,
it forms a partnership of sorts
that spews out pithy, smart retorts.
It snaps the present into line
with words that, effortless, combine
in sentences that, once unfurled,
have the power to change the world.
I ask you, who would ever think
that two joined objects—pen and ink—
could form a perfect synergy
to spew out jokes or tragedy?
Guided by a hand like yours,
a pen can open many doors.
A simple point, an ink-trailed line,
could link your heart with one like mine.
Unclip it now. Uncap its point.
Let paper now that ink anoint.
Let words turn somersaults and caper.
Let words flow from your heart to paper.
Let ink flow rampant from its cage
to dance across the naked page.
No telling what it might report
as words go wild and cavort.
“I” and “love” and “you” might do
a sort of line-dance or soft-shoe.
Words just might and words just may
leak out and give your heart away.
The prompt word for Tourmaline’s One Word Photo Challenge is pen.

Still struggling to try to get all the flower photos from my phone to my computer. In the meantime, here are some flowers made from cornhusks by the ladies on the other side of the lake. I love them!
See Cee’s raindropped iris HERE.

Core Identity
Whoever really gets to see
what is at the core of me?
Neither my mother nor my lover
gets to see beneath my cover.
No surgery has extracted it.
It’s not exposed in ire or wit.
It’s in a corner still unlit,
buried in identity’s pit.
Even I have not exhumed it, for
I’ve never found my very core.
Some say it’s found in meditation,
prayer or true love’s exaltation,
but I have journeyed into each
merely to wind up on the beach
of what I know must be the sea
of my soul’s identity.
Perhaps it is the world’s distractions––
all its toys and fine abstractions,
its petty jealousies and fears
regarding family and careers
that get me lost while searching for
that ladder, passageway or door
that will lead me to the root of me––
that seed of my identity.
Perhaps in death we’re rejoined with
the part of us that is our pith.
Could it be what life is for—
this striving toward identity’s core?
Perhaps the lonely death I fear
will finally serve to bring me near,
away from all those things I’m not
to that whole self I’ve always sought
The WordPress prompt today is core.

Skewed Liberty
Everything is tilted. Slightly unaligned.
The constitution set askew. Liberty maligned.
Some of the well-heeled citizens think that this is fine.
They cannot see that everything is slightly out of line.
All the pretty Philistines queue up at their tees
while their flunky lawyers determine what to seize.
Contracts with the Russians. Schemes to sell off national land.
Cronies helping cronies. Off-shore drilling by demand.
Rivers being sullied and oceans compromised
while insuring rights to bear arms are exercised.
Certain pious preachers line up behind the svelte,
proclaiming to the masses that they know what Jesus felt.
Indeed, the smallest sparrow no longer matters much
so long as all the mighty increase their greedy clutch––
all the moneychangers, corrupt to the core,
filling all their pockets with the money of the poor.
Surely it is clear that at ruling they’re inept,
and if he was watching, surely Jesus wept
as all the pearls of liberty were cast before the swine
with each self-serving libertine declaring what is “mine.”
What is true no longer matters. What “they” say is now what now counts.
They say it’s holy scripture as they settle their accounts.
People, take off your blinders. Consider what is real.
One nation, under God, was not set up for them to steal!
The WordPress prompt today was skewed.