I’ll verify a dozen ways that I’m in the pink, but I’m not as together as some folks may think. The course I plod is littered by words I’ve thrown away, hoping that I’ll come across some better ones some day.
I use no means nefarious to prod words into being. My syllabic yield is rather based on what I’m seeing. And so I am a plagiarist of wind and rain and flowers, recording what is sweet in life and also much that sours.
I can magnify with optics or reduce with diet pills, but there is no solution to another of my ills. When I’m feeling challenged by a flurry of activity, overwhelmed and harried due to my proclivity to stave off any tedium by means of overbooking, with one too many bubbling pots on my stovetop cooking, there is one solution that is valid and concrete. I need to find a method to turn down the heat!
A wayward duck up on a hill. He don’t come down and never will. He invents reasons to stay up. Comes down to buy his food to sup. Recharges rum, then up he goes to computerize and then to doze. Seeks neither censure nor promotion. Tries to fend off gross emotion. Keeps himself up on a shelf. Communes with no one but himself except online where he comports with on-air folks of different sorts. For though he might seem misbegotten, here on air he’s not forgotten.
Mighty sol’s ubiquitous in regions that are tropical, but when it comes to sunlight, I have news that is more topical. I’m evidence empirical that all folks aren’t created to lie out in the sun’s rays until their lust is sated for skin transposed to honey brown from a whitish hue. For folks like me, such practices simply will not do.
Unlike my lucky college chums, my best friends and my sister, when I’m exposed to sunlight, I am more prone to blister. I see them put their swimsuits on and take turns rubbing oil on, anxious to go greet the sun to get their bake and boil on, but once they’re spread out on their towels with all adjustments made, I’ll be covered up instead, sitting in the shade.
*Vitiligo is a chronic autoimmune disorder that causes patches of skin to lose pigment or color. This happens when melanocytes – skin cells that make pigment – are attacked and destroyed, causing the skin to turn a milky-white color. People with vitiligo have no natural protection from the sun.
Finicky lovers inspect water glasses, ask if you’re vaxed before they make passes. Chuckle at jokes, but only the funny ones, eat hard-boiled eggs, but balk at the runny ones.
They run the gamut of each picky habit. See every spot and are certain to dab it. Do not buy on clearance, for things are picked over. Will lie in the grass, but only in clover.
They sweep off your driveway before they can park, but first cover their tires so they’ll leave no mark. If you think this is odd, when they remove their pants, they must make a crisp fold before they advance!
He’s an agent of enchantment, the guru of his flock— a professor who can mesmerize with ordinary talk. A master of expression, his descriptions weave their spells that hold students in their thrall through the stories that he tells.
They copy down in notebooks each word that he has shared, humbled by the wisdom of the heart that he has bared. They will never know that their stunning visionary
is inspired by Wikipedia as well as Wiktionary.
Have you heard the allegory of enchanted mountain with its chocolate boulders and raspberry soda fountain? Snow on the top is ice cream, but beware, for it’s precipitous and only accessible to the most felicitous children who the lessons of politeness have well-learned. Children who are naughty and selfish will be spurned. If you think this is impossible and just a silly story, remember that I told you that it is an allegory. The wisdom that it teaches is good manners are rewarded, and though there is no list in life where they are all recorded, still life tends to give back to us exactly what we give. If you desire sweet things, that’s what you have to give.
With her instinct for mischief, my puppy is remarkable. Every falling leaf to her is an occasion barkable. Her sister and her brother and sometimes even me are all her dupes as any looker-on can clearly see.
She steals her brother’s food and he just lets her be, his look displaying an expression of futility. She steals Yolanda’s dusting rags to stage a tug-of-war, then drags her mop when she’s not looking, clear across the floor.
She must reconnoiter each bare ankle that walks by. First she licks it wet , but if you wait, she’ll lick it dry. Then she’ll tug your pants cuff or masticate your shoe, investigating with her tongue each tasty part of you.
She’s ripped to shreds four pairs of pants, my duvet and my tote,
my tarahumara basket, a two-hundred peso note,
the corners of two cabinets and my poetic papers.
No exposed object’s sacrosanct from her destructive capers.
But when I lock her in her pen for moments of reflection, she greets her isolation with such whines of pure dejection, It’s lucky for my puppy that she is so gol-darn cute that each threatened sentence I’ve chosen to commute.
Bad puppy videos below. Unfortunately, Youtube will try to take you off in a different direction after each one so you’ll need to come back to this post to see each of the others.
The imminent future seems iffy at best. The door to tomorrow reveals a dark test. Have we rationed our resources, saved for tomorrow? Will deviations from reason cause future sorrow? Spatially crowded, our cities all choke in the fumes of their progress—nature’s cruel joke.
We write words like ECOLOGY large, in italics,
hope it will protect like the arms of a calyx,
think it will create a healing reaction,
and yet it will not, ’til we put it in action.
Simple Inspiration
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 