Voyage
Each day, do you set out once more
on a voyage of discovery—
following a horizon you’ve been told
bends to itself with wonders in between?
Or do you trace a well-worn path,
fitting your feet to yesterday’s footsteps—
unfolding that map of yourself
that ventures deeper with each step?
How old are you now?
Old enough to know
both courses can take you
in the same direction?
The prompt word today was “discover.”
Tree of Faith
Please click on the first photo below to enlarge and read captions that explain the pieces.
For any of these creations, I could be beheaded in Saudi Arabia. Then crucified for the poem. This holy examination of self is not tolerated in some countries, or by certain factions of our own. This is what we are trying to guard against in a democracy, but its guarantee in our constitution is not, evidently, a given. It must be fought for over and over again. That open eye of the Madonna was never more called for in our country.
This poem and these retablos are dedicated to Ashraf Fayadh. Please click on the below link if you doubt the veracity of what I say above or if you want to see an example of why it is so important for us to continue to embrace diversity in thought , faith and culture:
https://thegadabouttown.com/2016/12/10/speak-out-for-ashraf-fayadh/
The prompt word today was “mystical.”
Lately I’ve had the feeling that my entire life is chaotic, but nothing this year has been the equal of having my whole life uprooted and moved to obscure corners and cupboards while they tile all of the floors in my house in one fell swoop. Nine men descended en masse a few days ago, took off all my doors (13 in all) and started turning my entire property into a workshop. Bags of adhesive form a wall between my street gate and front door. The pathways are paved my empty cardboard tile boxes. Men cut tile in my back yard, creating clouds of porcelain dust. Young men carry metal containers full of mixed adhesive and stacks of heavy porcelain tiles. Old men measure, spread adhesive and lay the tiles. Other men arrive to cut off the doors. Meanwhile, I am living in one small room and attached bathroom piled with assorted art objects, clothes and bathroom supplies, trying to find my way to the kitchen through the construction process. Not to mention keeping the dogs contained with every part of the house and yard being used. Here are some of the posts I’ve done over the past few days:
It couldn’t be more appropriate to my life that the daily prompt word is “Chaotic“
BP and Me
Cook a bowl of oatmeal and throw some apples in.
Cinnamon and cranberries and walnuts are no sin.
Gotta get the pressure down––of both my life and blood.
So no more salting French fries or pies of chocolate mud.
I exercise enough, I think, nighttimes in the pool;
but midnight trips out to the fridge brand me as a fool.
So a giant bowl of oatmeal with milk that is nonfat
and a bit more exercising where I once just sat
will guarantee I’ll live at least to one hundred twenty.
I’ll have lower blood pressure and zip I’ll have aplenty.
There is no secret to long life and staying young and burlier.
The answer lies in giving up life’s pleasures a bit earlier.
The prompt word today is “Giant.” (It’s not too obvious what this poem has to do with the prompt word until the second stanza, but originally, I had “giant bowl of oatmeal” in the first line. Alas, no rhyme presented itself, so “giant” got relegated to a bit further down in the poem and became less relevant. Oh well. Main purpose of the prompts is to get us started, anyway.)
Unhitched
I’ll slog through the mud and slog through the rain,
but I’ll never slog back to you, ever again.
If ever again I work fingers to bone,
I will be doing it here on my own—
not chasing your dreams or plowing your furrow
like a mule in a trace or a poor laden burro.
Life was a hard slog, dear, trudging with thee—
much more of a grind than just being me.
So I’ll point my gaze forward, not back where I’ve been
without pulling you with me, ever again.
As Groucho would say, “The secret woid today was ‘Slog!’
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Right to Brag.” Tell us about something you (or a person close to you) have done recently (or not so recently) that has made you really, unabashedly proud.
Acclaim
Those who seek to elevate
their fame with words too profligate
often find that others balk
at such narcissistic talk.
One heard tooting his own horn
is often lonely and forlorn.
When it comes to charity,
many have reached parity
who do not need to try to flout it,
let alone to shout about it.
Others have performed great acts
without broadcasting the facts
of honors won or feats achieved,
and one who boasts is oft believed
to be exaggerating––or,
is simply thought to be a bore
So, even though you’re justly proud,
please don’t voice that fact out loud.
If your act is worth a plaudit,
best leave it to another to laud it!
Heart of a Small Pueblo
I wrote to this question for an article in “Mexico Insights” (a now defunct magazine) a few years ago–long before I started blogging; and although I’ve printed the story once before on my blog, I think it warrants a second retelling. Go HERE to read a story about a remarkable man. Since I wrote this piece, he has gone on to found a 150 piece children’s orchestra and a children’s chorus that I talked about in another story. His is the restaurant where we staged the week-long Camp Estrella and where I’ll have 160 children decorate sugar skulls for Dia de los Muertos next week. His restaurant is the hub and heart of our little town.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “FAQ.” Interview someone — a friend, another blogger, your mother, the mailman — and write a post based on their responses.
Means of Expression
I have two means of telling a story–words and art. Here are a few of my retablos :
Jugetes (Toys) 
Santa Cecilia (Patron Saint of Poets and Musicians)
Self Portrait
Hidden Kiss 
Sunrise Madonna 
The Circus
Our Lady of Notions
Ganesha
Homage to Picasso
Rainy Season
H
Macho
The Prompt: Express Yourself!!! Do you love to dance, sing, write, sculpt, paint, or debate? What’s your favorite way to express yourself, creatively?
Change, Change, Change
The main change I wanted to happen when I started writing a blog was to dedicate myself to writing every day––to make writing top priority. That has happened over the past 19 months, when I have written every single day, no matter what. The biggest change came about because I started writing first thing in the morning rather than putting writing off until I found a convenient time. Now I put other things off in favor of writing.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Singular Sensation.” If one experience or life change results from you writing your blog, what would you like it to be?
No News is Bad News
As I eat my morning toast,
I like to read the Morning Post.
But often, once my toast is browned,
The Morning Post’s not to be found.
I brew the coffee and have a cup,
willing the newsboy to show up.As I eat my morning eggs,
my husband sputters, nags and begs
until I fantasize a muzzle.
He wants his morning crossword puzzle!
Yet that newsboy still delays
as breakfast passes without a phrase.We leave for work sad and bereft,
looking to the right and left.
My husband prods and pokes and pushes
in case the news lies in the bushes,
but only finds an errant bee
and a missing front door key.All day that sense of loss still lingers
as I crave newsprint on my fingers.
Somehow the day just isn’t nice
when it passes without advice.
No comics page? No horoscope?
All day I sit alone and mope.Others ‘round me may be seen
watching news upon a screen.
But it isn’t quite the same,
so please excuse me while I blame
my bad mood once more on the kid
who brings the news––but never did!By evening when I arrive home,
that rolled up, backless, coverless tome
has finally shown up by our door;
but day-old news is just a bore,
and comics read to a setting sun
somehow do not seem so fun.As our puppy greets me, paws and muzzle,
I extract the crossword puzzle,
then smooth the rest and scoop it up
to place it under our wiggly pup
who lifts his leg and pees upon it.
News is not made to sup on it!In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Connect the Dots.” ––Scour the news for an entirely uninteresting story. Consider how it connects to your life. Write about that.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 