Happy May Day!! No Maypoles in Mexico. Here it is celebrated as Labor Day which means no one works. Ha. I, however, will not use that as an excuse to shirk my duty. Here is a shot of Morrie and Diego enjoying the pleasures of the back yard. Diego sips from the biggest water dish in the world as Morrie seems to be in the act of sitting down, rather awkwardly, I might add. In the foreground, the last of the poinsettias, in the middle, a plumeria/frangipani tree in full bloom, cactus, various bougainvillea, Virginia creeper and palms. This is the view from my writing desk. Not my usual flower closeup..
And the jungle side of the view.
I always love Cee’s peonies. You can see one HERE.
Fandango’s provocative question is whether the U.S. is open to electing an openly gay presidential candidate.
If you had asked me in 2016 if the U.S. was open to a bigoted, sexist, totally incompetent, traitorous braggart and fool, I would have said, “No.” So, I guess I’m not the person to ask. That disclaimer stated, I have to regretfully say no again and hope, again, that I am wrong. I must say that I would love it if we could take one more giant leap away from bigotry. I will also say that much as I’d like to see a gay person or a woman in the presidency, I hope that everyone remains solid in finding a candidate who can beat Trump. That is the most important issue right now. Yes, there is a need to change the Democratic party but that is something to do after we have presented a solid unified front to overcome this huge shame of the past 4 years. Our country and the world may depend on it. Now is not the time for divisiveness. There has been enough of that over the past 4 years, and the campaign year before that. Let’s get hypocrisy and elitism out of the White House, then out of the Senate and House. And our of our own hearts, as well.
I was very affected by this piece by poet/performance artist Ron Stock when he read it at a La Manzanilla reading earlier this year. Today he sent me the video of the piece, in which he rails against those who make use of religion as an excuse for genocide and prejudice. I want to stress again that I have no issue with those who maintain the true tenets of religion: peace, love, charity and attendance to making things better for others in this world., but in light of the recent attack of the synagogue near San Diego, the suicide bombings against churches in Sri Lanka, and the man who, on his way to church, drove his car into a crowd in Sunnyvale, CA, because he thought he saw people who looked like Muslims, I have to support Ron in railing against those who and have instituted and supported the rash of Holy Wars around our planet.
Rain on Mosaic
Drop.
Flat.
Rain
is
sad.
Dropping
straight.
Falling
sure.
Into
a
world
of
blue
mosaics.
Glide on smooth.
Slide off easy.
Straight.
Sure.
Rain
is
sad.
Our assignment today was to write a minimalist poem. Last day of NaPoWriMo!!!!
After Seventy
Is it gain or loss to feel contentment—
no wild surges of emotion,
no bodily electricity,
no need for thrill or wild abandon?
Is this not the time for settling, for thrusting all
those wild venturings back to a safe place
on a back self of memory?
The universe is built on repetition
and change. This last stage, a sinking back into.
Communion with birds and dogs.
A return to the careful watching of childhood.
Of discussions with self as though you were
two people—one listening
as that inner person does all the talking.
Wisdom melding into sleep in the afternoon
in hammocks or on sofas.
Trying to distill wisdom from the flight of birds
or the observed quizzical reasoning of a small dog.
Old age, with one stiff arm I hold you at a distance.
I am studying up for you by reading books and by observation.
By reading myself for long otherwise empty afternoons.
Pinned in a backyard hammock by a small dog and by lethargy,
one foot on the ground, I steer us side to side—
A pendulum sweeping my life away, into corners,
fueled by the hovering of hummingbirds,
the quick flutter of butterflies
from throat to throat of the tabachine.
That seesaw of mind between the inner and the outer
as though practicing for that time when the one will claim me
and I will spiral forward or backward
with that wise knowing, perhaps, at last,
that they are precisely the same thing.
The NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem that was a meditation.
This is the intricately beaded cape of a voladore or “flier.” More about this incredible Mexican ritual later. For now, let’s concentrate on the flowers.
I couldn’t resist slipping this delicious mango flower into my FOTD post!
For Cee’s Flower of the Day prompt.
Dinner Party Snafu
That tiny jar of olives on the shelf
called out to me to add them to my list
carefully planned by no one but myself
and yet, it’s true that I could not resist.
To add to salad, plotted from the first
to blend so perfectly into the meal
to whet the appetite and prompt the thirst
for my perfect wine-soaked succulent veal.
Who knew that bottle would be so well sealed
that it would remain steadfast to my grip?
meanwhile, the veal course cooled and congealed
as I used armpit, hand and tooth and lip
to try to budge those olives from their jar,
to spill them onto salad quickly wilting.
My guests called out for dinner from afar,
their hunger-weakened voices softly lilting.
Thus do dinner plans oft turn out Hellish
due to starter courses we can’t relish!
For 
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 