Wednesday, April 27, 2011

I Have been enjoying:

Several Poetry/ Essay books, by Roger Housden.
"Ten Poems to change your life " 2001 Harmony Books, NY
"Ten poems to change your life again and again" 2007 Harmony Books, NY

If you decide to buy one, be advised they are different!
I took the latter out of the library- and then ended up ordering the first one
from a second hand shop-Dumbly not realizing it was separate collection.
-Now I am glad because I get the pleasure of 20 !

Monday, April 25, 2011

Poetry Bus: EASTER BASH:

Excess Drenching of colored POSSIBILITIES-
landing south, with Family!

Eager for ART, Photo's, Statuary-
anything Spring: in the city of NYC !!!

Addiction to walking, listening, GREED-
of Food and Mood- come along, WITH ME....

Let's GO, Lets GO! my youngster SCREAMS
Tugging Onward, Follow, LEAD-

Easter ,Tulips, Parks AND GREEN
We're OFF, WE'RE OFF -
To find some SCENES!

On the Train and off at last,
CROWDS of People
Bright and FAST...

Talking LOUD-
All Languages not understood-
No matter, no matter

It's All GOOD!

Fashion,BRIGHT, Flowers Bundled
Daylight, Puddles, Weaving to:

a Fabulous Play, On BROADWAY
WHOo-Hoo-

Famous: Elvis, Carl Perkins
 Jerry Lee Lewis & Johnny Cash!

Songs with Piano, GEETARs,
Cello, BRASS-
All with Drums, to make Us CLAP!

Rompin', Stompin
Million Dollar SPLASH-

'Til Hours later, wandering home,
Finally winding down: TO CRASH...

Monday, April 18, 2011

Poetry Bus, 4/18/11

"...Bursting, exploding, restarting, getting it in gear, waking up"


" Bring, Bring,"
"Hello?"

" Spring calling"
" Youth speaking."

" Dowse the fire, come outside!"


" Shrung-     Damper shut.
Brish-   Brish,     - Window's open;

-Here we come! "

Monday, April 11, 2011

Magpie, 4/11/11














Spatterings of  paint,
blood , wine;
with three candles
and a knife
underneath the tablecloth,behind.

Poetry Bus, 4/11/11

I am a crooked line,
the turn and spiral of wool
through fingers, folding onto skeins.
An edge or saturated colors
sailing along a broad horizon
Ink firmly shaping letters 
for expression or signing names
Bold exacting strike of humor
rioting tension by
thunder, rolling on and on.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Flash fiction 55, 4/8/11; "It is only Money"

The teens inside of me
have been Rebelling!
Yelling at the top of their rebel lungs,
about all that I have been shedding!

I do not blame them -not at all-
Let go of beer and other alcohol.
Let go of Horses, cut down on coffee-
Let go of smokes-
-So? We'll bring back horses-

Monday, April 4, 2011

Magpie, 4/4/11











You can pull the drops
together,
though they will not
run forever
you can draw them in
upon each other;
so they are stronger
going forward
where they can do their best
together- quench a thirst ?

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Poetry Bus 4/4/11











The wonderful prompt and picture from Titus the dog,
this week. Then- a choice- from a list of creatures.
and because of their looong twisty, aloft and banded
tails- I was off following a promise of mischief...

Following amusement,
from thin and black
or grey and banded-
a flag aloft
and chittering.


It must be vocal too ?
Ahh Yes- sound and movement
often go together
wether tis a cat, or otter sliding down a bank,
a ring tailed Lemur marching,
or a mongoose hunting Cobra.

The streak walks a very fine line.
Well paced as if
paws were held aloft
in considered suspension-

Then sudden turning
passion  is up a notch:
reddening of an eye
twitch of ear,
or nose.

Funny playful has run
from sunny side
on with hum and rumble;
Does it matter who does the warning?
If it is followed by
a pounce or leap

caught mid air,
mischief has gone on
beyond play
to land in full color wild.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Flash fiction 55, 4/1/11

Nasty, nasty !- reminding us
of "Pop Quiz-"
O.k.G-man, once again
see where this goes...

The only tests I ever did
halfway right, Fridays Spelling Bee
Or, My Times tables!
Seems to me they got sprung
on Monday once or twice-  
                   

Then got tangled up terribly;
Because  you see-it was in conflict
with memorizing of Poetry-
"The Pasture" or The Runaway"
by Robert Frost  
I fought all Sunday to recite.