The cool of this August morning hints at the fires of September yellow leaves drifting on icy air patches. Terry cloth robe feels bulky, but soon it will be a warm friend. Poems chatter in a cacophony of painted words laced in pumpkin's and squash. Gardens soon will be tucked into straw. Just this morning, I feel it snapping, like the slap of laundry in the wind. A new season stirs.
Poet Tongue records history paints words word paints tells secrets speaks lies caresses your senses and leaves you senseless knows all the names of all the flowers says nothing at all to everybody writing only to self insist the world hear how bleached bones sit on sand while blood runs thick everywhere poet tongue knows art is life
A re post for Maggie who needs a garden poem today.
Saints In the Garden
I envy Saints in the garden serenely watching Rose hips and Nightshade Stone monks never break vows of silence Madonna weeps eternal frozen doves teeter upon the marble fingertips of Jesus
Our garden; home to cracked glazing balls, stunted gnomes, and crumbling gargoyles never weeps nor sleeps tender plants colored by rusted tin cans like ghetto alley Morning Glories, wild women of the night, blush a quick bloom before sleeping away the day fence lovers battle for space corn soldiers line up for marching orders Mint, Moon flower, and wild mustard begin the invasion!
But low, there, at the old cats grave, One lone stone Angel watches.
Good morning luvs! There was a time when I wondered~ would I ever walk again? Not true that. I never wondered, others did. I always always knew~ I'd climb that mountain again! So, I have amazed those who know, I stood up and proclaimed my place in the world! WOW. It's beautiful here, open those eyes peeps! Today is my second day at my new full time job. It's a very low paying job. It's a hard job. I kinda have to drive a ways to get to the job. You have no idea. None. How lucky I feel to be able to work. Have a good day at work today. Life happens fast. Take a minute today~ and just be thankful! For all of it friends. Life on earth. Damn! It's a beautiful thing. Love from the mountain, Virginia.
Summers back when skinned knees were a sign of courage ( I was not a girly girl too many brothers ) we'd line up with our little pails the early morning dew held rainbow worlds we were young so young
waiting for Uncle to say go we could already taste raspberries wild and tangled with the thick blackberries and brambles be damned we were young so young
the game was to see who could gather the most both berries and scratches who's lips would run darkest with the sweet of those plump kisses of God we were young so young
all these years later ( with grandchildren of my own ) I remember raspberries wild my garden, I carefully tend future games my blood will play dreaming stained mouths, the laughter, the love, the passage of youth.
The fabulous picture was taken by Willie Boy, I needed some inspiration this morning, so he sent it to me. The picture has inspired other poets also. Thanks Willie.
black crows watching stark as steam trains running magik believers and poets hear river cry white water rapid blue sky eye of god animals come to listen river cry my crimson mouth full of thorns and roses cannot explain this river cry sound tumbles time thunder rumble bells tinkle sirens sing to this rhythm river cry immortal waters run swift and deep grandfather could hear my river cry this word of ages language immersed ancient voice speaks to me of gods river cry
The mountain will teach you fire awaken your passionate self drop your age to youth and steal your youth leaving you standing alone like some forgotten valentine good luck with that The mountain will teach you three kinds of fish the power of hawks quiet of bats look closely, mountain mermaid, rainbow trout, frolic with minnows a world all it's own sneaking ever so stealthy into my heart.
This mountain will challenge even the very tough swallow the weak with no trace but if you wake one day to find you have become one with the mountain Dance! Dance with the bones of the dead beneath living trees.
One with the mountain set my soul free others go back to school I go back to the earth tumbled by mountain washed by rain kissed by death and still my heart beats to the drum of my creator Dance.
Week 23 Topic-Good Luck With That Bonus points hard- incorporate forgotten valentine Bonus point easy- include three kinds of fish.
Steal These Shoes!/Blogophilia 22
Category: Blogging
If I were a pirate my high seas booty would be cargo ships with shoes on the them. A ship from Italy would be a favorite target, and women around the world would worship me and hide me from mine enemies! I'd high jack me some Jimmy Choos and I'd steal me some of those Santana's, ohhhh I'm excited just thinking about it. A friend of mine recently did a tacky blog complete with very tacky and some down right ugly shoes, so I just knew we needed a tasteful shoe blog once again. She shrewdly chooses showy shoes shoes I'll never wear shoes worn only in the air some I wear without a care others just to watch him stare Maryjane's, pumps, and spats stiletto heels, wedgies, flats bedroom slippers look like cats stripes, plaids, and polka dats Showy shoes she shrewdly choose! I'll go anywhere to show off my cool footwear, even Karaoke Night. A good pair of shoes will "shiver me timbers". They make climbing, skipping, and jump rope shoes. Some shoes are simply for the sake of art. So without further ado, and barely in time for my deadline, I leave you with the following pictures of some truly delightful foot decor.
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This will take you to Blogophilia planet. OK Marv, think I got this weeks, I'll go see next weeks now. XO
this is the rain that is woman it falls from the eyes that are heaven called forth from the heart housed by the soul that gives birth to mankind this is the rain that grows roses the holy drop that falls upon eye pennies of the dead this is the joy of communion the quiet grief of birth of loss the salty rivers that feed the oceans of all mankind falling from the eyes that are heaven woman's tears
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