Had to include some photos of my favorite bat. Not scary, but delicious:
I couldn’t resist making a simple little retablo honoring my favorite bottle cap, and actually I’ve used this little bat in a number of my retablos.
And then, more in keeping with the Halloween theme, here are some more appropriate bats from the wrapper of a bag of candy I bought for trick or treaters:
https://jennifernicholewells.com/2016/10/13/jnws-halloween-challenge-batvampire/
Morning Protein
Each morning when I waken, I take a little pill;
but though it is to boost my health, today it made me ill.
Before I went to slumber, I poured a glass of Coke
so it would be there in the night if I began to choke.
I know it isn’t usual, but it works for me.
Somehow it works to clear my throat and leaves the passage free.
So when I took my pill this morning, feeling sort of hazy,
I didn’t go for water, but instead I was just lazy.
I lifted up the Coke cup, filled almost to the brim,
and only had a little sip before up to the rim
something solid floated that shouldn’t have been there.
I felt something that tickled––like very coarse stiff hair.
Later, I was glad I hadn’t taken bigger sips,
for as it was, just part of it made it past my lips.
I hurried to the bathroom and spit and spit and spit,
then emptied out the cup and didn’t look at it
as a big dead cockroach went swirling down the drain.
Will I drink without looking? No. Never again.
The prompt this morning was “Clumsy.”
Somehow, these apples just didn’t look all that fresh to me.
https://jennifernicholewells.com/2016/10/12/jnws-halloween-challenge-bobbing-for-apples/
I love the textural patterns left by ivy pulled from the front wall of my niece’s house.
https://narami.wordpress.com/2016/10/11/tuesdays-of-texture-week-42-of-2016/
Promises
When we first made our promises, our hearts were young and gay,
and all the things we had in life we thought we would parlay
from good fortune freely given for which we’d never pay.
But though the sun that lulls us with its warming ray
does not always scorch the earth, certainly, it may,
and all the tender shoots of spring by autumn turn to hay.
And so it is with promises, no matter what you say.
What I’ve noticed about promises is that they melt away,
for those who live by promising sometimes have feet of clay.
Promises lightly given sometimes start to weigh
upon the minds of those who have held their fears at bay.
Such things may cause the truest heart later to turn fey.
The lives we take for granted, sure we’ll always be okay,
in the end life complicates by answering with “Nay.”
So what you want to share with me, please share by end of day.
The prompt word today was “Promises.”
I love this lotus on the silk window panels of the Vietnamese restaurant where I met old friends Karen and Susan and Jay during my visit to St. Paul.
https://ceenphotography.com/2016/10/10/flower-of-the-day-october-11-2016/
As a fond mother, when the day is o’er,
Leads by the hand her little child to bed,
Half willing, half reluctant to be led,
And leave his broken playthings on the floor,
Still gazing at them through the open door,
Nor wholly reassured and comforted
By promises of others in their stead,
Which though more splendid, may not please him more;
So Nature deals with us, and takes away
Our playthings one by one, and by the hand
Leads us to rest so gently, that we go
Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay,
Being too full of sleep to understand
How far the unknown transcends the what we know.
Look Up!
She used to chase the shadows of birds across the ground
and dig where they disappeared
and never once thought to look up,
no matter how many times I tried to tell her to.
Chasing light across the pool, she’d pace
back and forth, along its further edge.
Her first playmates the cats,
she could not follow them up into the trees,
but stood instead, barking at the bark they clung to.
Thinking herself a cat, perhaps,
or all of them some new species in between,
she followed wherever it was possible to go.
Up the broad steps to the second floor,
across the terraza and just a small leap
to the ledge of the high sloping dome of the roof.
Up to its top to lie or stand and bark at all who trudged up our mountain
to intrude into her world.
She could see for blocks,
turning like a sundial with the sun
to change her focus, but usually starting at the point,
southward, that most invaders came from.
Neighbors led by unwelcome dogs on leashes
passed below her on their morning walks,
or farmers carrying hoes or machetes
up to the fields above.
Lines of burros plodding beneath her, facing uphill,
small herds of cattle
flooding down to the lake for water—
none escaped the attention of this reina,
who would bark directions to be on their way, fast,
and not to loiter.
No creature had greater staying power than she.
The cats, bored with the high view,
moved to the bushes and trees to hunt possums, squirrels and salamanders.
Only she stayed true to her original position
as she looked ever down from that high dome,
only deserting it a year ago,
when I locked the gate that blocked her progress up—
not because I judged it unsafe for a dog grown arthritic and less sure of her step,
but because of the new puppy,
untrained by cats and with feet less experienced than hers.
Feeling punished, perhaps, she traded her high domain
for a place beneath the terrace table
from which she watched the two upstarts
speed by to cavort in the lower garden
where she once chased bird shadows in the grass.
She exercised her staying power one last time
as, looking down on a world reduced to only me,
never once blinking, she stared into my eyes
as I crouched beside the vet’s high table,
and looked straight back up into them,
the closest I’d ever been to her.
That table’s surface, straight and gleaming stainless steel,
was where she lay with her front legs spread-eagled
for the long hour it took to finally climb up that high dome again.
I wonder if she heard me as,
“Good girl,” I told her a hundred times that final hour, and meant it.
“Good, good girl. Look up now. And go on.
You were always such a good, good girl, watching out for us.
But now, look up. Go on.”
The prompt word today is “Original.”
Flat
Like a phony love letter not influenced by Cupid,
flattery will get you somewhere only with the stupid.
For if praise is unwarranted, it leaves us feeling flat.
When so falsely offered, it falls down with a splat.
While flattery may be offered by those without a clue,
praise and adulation are not flattery if they’re true.
Praise is a beloved pet, but flattery’s a zoo.
While you’re curious to view it, you don’t take it home with you.
The prompt word today is “Flattery.”
https://ceenphotography.com/2016/10/05/cees-which-way-photo-challenge-october-5-2016/
