Click on photos to enlarge.
For the Monday Window prompt.
Monday Windows, Nov 9, 2020
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Category Archives: Uncategorized
Terrace Tour, FOTD, Nov 10, 2020
The light looked good yesterday, so I picked up my camera and took a little tour around the backyard terrace. If you want to come along, some of the photos are below. Others will crop up on Flower of the Day later on in the week. In the third photo, that’s Colima Volcano that you see in the distance.
Click on first photo and then the arrows to take the tour.
For Cee’s FOTD
Failure to Launch
Click on Photos to Enlarge.
Failure to Launch
When it comes to doing tasks promotional or clerical,
I find that I’m becoming increasingly hysterical.
It’s tough for me to concentrate. I would rather plot
the next word of a poem. A promoter I am not.
I find that my mind wanders when it comes to drafting
queries and proposals. I prefer to spend time crafting
poems, books or stories; but I find it tough
after creative efforts, doing that extra stuff
to place them or to sell them. Though I do not mind the working,
when it comes to the rest of it, I simply end up shirking.
Words pile up around me. My file drawers burst apart,
for when it comes to their dispersal, I find I’m weak of heart.
It’s not that I am hoarding words. I’d gladly send them out
into the world to find their place. That’s not what it’s about.
The fact that such acts bore me is a fact that’s inescapable.
I’d like to hand them over to a person who’s more capable.
I delight in going inwards and seeing what is there,
then putting it on paper for everyone to share.
It would be an equal triumph, I have not a single doubt,
if I could find a person I could pay to send it out;
but, alas, I’ve found a new way in which I am resistant,
as I keep putting off locating an assistant!
Word prompts today are tough, hysterical, capable and triumph.
Mantrap 101 (Grading on the Curve)
Mantrap 101
(Grading on the Curve)
What quantity of your allure
is due to a fine manicure?
What woman ever won a date
by means of being Latinate?
This tidbit I am drawn to share.
What guy was ever known to care
whether your purse matched your shoes?
No sane man has been known to cruise
shoe stores as a place to lure
a conquest, and you may be sure
that when he’s waiting at your gate,
no man is going to berate
the fact that you aren’t wearing Prada.
If your shape rates “Yadda yadda,”
I’d say that you will be successful,
and all the other stuff’s just stressful.
If you want to flummox him,
just skip the rest and hit the gym.
Photo by Engin Akyurt on Unsplash. Used with permission. Word prompts today are tidbit, berate, lure and quantity.
Sunrise in America
This short comment on the election by Jan Wilberg on Red’s Wrap sums up so well the current state of the nation that I had to share it.
We have been saved. By ourselves.
Maybe that’s all I need to say. But it feels like I need to say more.
We are changed by what has happened in our country. There are fine parts of us that have been worn away by the steady rasp of cruelty. We felt this happening. It was searing and painful at first, but soon we became numb, and then we were surprised to look at ourselves and see the fine parts gone.
There has been damage done, not just to us as a people, but to us as people. Each of us.
But there’s also been muscle built where before there was weakness. Millions of people, exhausted but made stronger by treading water in the bottomless, terrifying ocean of our country, found their way on to the life raft of the election.
Seventy-four million of us. We saved ourselves. We saved the…
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This is an amazing Primate Video!!!
Diversity
Diversity
The world’s based on diversity. If we were all the same,
we’d be the cause of our own problems. There’d be no one else to blame.
All of us would be prolific—equal in our fame.
We couldn’t tell our differences merely by our name.
We’d all be the same color and have the selfsame aims,
dance in the same manner and excel at the same games.
When we divulged our secrets, our friends would all be snoring,
for they’d all have the same ones which would make confession boring.
No beauty pageants, chess matches or battles of the bands.
No need to wander off to examine other lands.
If everyone were just the same, there’d be no competition.
Excellence would be extinct and no need for ambition.
There’d be no surprises, no extraordinary gifts.
No ups and downs in life. No depressions and no lifts.
Life would just be humdrum. How boring life would be
if nature hadn’t managed to create diversity!
Image by Jimmy Fermin on Unsplash. Used with permission. Word prompts today are prolific, divulge, count and diversity,When
Goin’ Fishin’: Answers to The Friday Four
For Rory’s Friday Four Questions
| Do you think society could survive without governmental authority or structure? No, but it might survive better with a better structure. I think the past four years have proven what happens when the wrong person is given authority and certainly pointed out the weaknesses in our governmental system in the U.S. It has been a shock to see just how bigoted and short-sighted approximately half of the American population is. I’d hate to see those people given free rein. We’ve already seen it, to a degree. |
| Do we really need all the technology we have? Clearly, we don’t, but we’ve become dependent upon it and it has become a game of sorts to see just how far we can go. Game urinals in Japan where you control the game action with your urine stream are a perfect example. |
| Everyone has a passion that can absorb them for hours and that includes talking about it with others for hours if left unchecked – do you have such a passion and if so – what is it? Art and writing. I get so engrossed that six hours can pass and seem like a half hour. I can’t imagine life without these compulsions. |
| What have you found yourself thinking a lot of late and that seemingly will not leave your brain alone? Death and how/who will deal with all my stuff. You can have no idea. Books that I’ve written and done nothing with.. sitting in files. The utter horror that so many people supported Trump. and still do. |
Number 9 Blues
Number 9 Blues
Those eyes,
that song,
a bird the color
of the moon
we met under.
The wind
a ribbon of sadness.
Cold hands,
broken heart—
all the hue
of a trumpet’s lonely staccato.
