Sunday, September 30, 2012

Passing Through

It Must Be Time For Lunch Now, 1979, by Francesca Woodman
Photo prompt courtesy of The Mag 137

a spurt of growth
a nudge, a grudge
in the wee hours of the night
a need for food, his only plight
so I get up with him
(a banana might
settle the unrest)--
 he throws up,
no more grudge just guilt
hours of upset, down
for the count
until it makes its way through
exhausted, but he's ready
for lunch

Saturday, September 29, 2012

(Some Things Will Never Be) Passé Composé

Photo by Susie Clevenger

Orange tape reflects
a line-up on County Lane;
yesterday's letters, hard to choose.
One stands with flap open
unwilling to wander away
from tangible SENTiments
like a parent waving arms,
"Come back to me,"
as the child walks down the road.


Prompt inspiration- Imaginary Gardens mini-Sunday challenge (tercet)

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

A Whispered Chill

"Poetry" by Alphonse Mucha

A chance in life as children, I see
years of choice in front of thee;
let not dark knights entice thy will,
savor the voice, a whispered chill.


Prompt inspirations:
3WW- chance, entice, savor
Poetry Jam- Arts Gonna Art

Sunday, September 23, 2012


Flying Down, 2006, by David Salle
Picture prompt: The Mag 136
A tumble, stumble
down swirls of
orange(E) tangy
I spiral through,
to hell;  
while you
glide away
in the plane
we once built. 

Friday, September 21, 2012

Friday, September 14, 2012

Bottlenecked Hope

Southern-Style Bottle Trees
photo by L. Kolp

brush the
skies, clank
rhythms  as  a
bottomed - out
drunk  on   the
dusty   streets
of hell exhales
exhaust - like
sighs.  Y o u
think his only
escape from
hope  is  to
shatter glass
into the air.

Prompt inspiration- Imaginary Garden's A Word with Laurie: Bottleneck

Saturday, September 8, 2012

If You Lose a Good Thing

If you lose a good thing,
don't expect me to sit on your pity pot
and watch you flush yourself like a dead goldfish.
If you lose a good thing,
don't blow bubbles in your Budweiser
or shove hot air down the throat of a stranger;
you might two-step your way straight to jail.
If you lose a good thing,
don't forget to take the tissues
out of your Wranglers before you do your laundry;
leave them out to dry on an old beat-up clothesline
like you did me.


Prompt inspiration: Imaginary Gardens music prompt w/ Marian- "it's better to have it" (Miss Barbara Lynn)

Friday, September 7, 2012

No more covering up behind blonde hair

Me, au natural- 9-7-12

Yesterday, I said goodbye to my last bit of blonde. I can't believe I did it, but I have finally gone back to my roots. It's taken me two years to get here and it hasn't always been easy with the two-tone hair color (which, thank goodness, is in style now) and the ponytail/baseball cap look (which is also in), but at last I've reached my goal. How does someone who has been blonde all of her life face the fact that she just isn't anymore? And on top of that, how does someone come to grips with those unwanted strays starting to pop up? I know I've earned them, but really? Those gray hairs are like spirals in an overused notebook- sticking up and out of control, forever reminding you they are there. Now if I have a piece of hair tickling my face or stuck in my eyelashes, I have to check if it's gray or not, because if it isn't I can't afford to pull it out. Anyway, I digress.

On June 21, 2010, I first told you about how damaged my hair was after I had started highlighting it myself (what a laugh... I was bleaching it with the "more-is-better" mentality I've battled my entire life). I didn't know what color to use at first, so my hair turned out a little like melted Neapolitan ice cream. When the next time rolled around, which was probably sooner than it should have been, I chose a lighter blonde color. With each botched-up box job, I became more daring until my hair turned almost white. I'm not sure if you remember, but I woke up one morning with a chunk of my hair missing. Had the hair fairy come in the night? I couldn't understand it. I knew I'd hit bottom. Something had to change.

Me, 2010- Covering up behind blonde hair
So I made a vow to stop coloring my hair. After all, I was sick of the upkeep. In fact, I was sick and tired of everything superficial in my life. I decided to make a fresh start, to learn to love myself for who I was on the inside, not for some image the mirror reflected in front of me.

It's taken a lot of work and I'm by no means finished, but better off than I used to be. Now all I have to do is avoid looking in the mirror and I'm just fine, thank you very much.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Regrettable, Gossip Overheard

Have you heard the banter of he said, she said, they said, what-
gossip in the vestibule; duty taken, final cut

as a wrestle match between butt out! and OMG, say what? 
I battle from within; and though I try to fight it, the second wins.

"No, this can't be true- John Boy really is a girl?"
The women in their element gasp aloud, their noses curl

as I hide behind the paper, headline news- another day;
"I guess that makes him unisex," I hear the women say

wishing I'd listened to my first internal hunch
to mind my own business, let the ignorant eat their lunch.

Prompt inspirations:
Imaginary Gardens- Kerry's Wednesday Challenge- Internal Monologue
3WW- banter, duty, element

Monday, September 3, 2012

Labor Day doesn't necessarily mean the end of summer

Summer is officially over, but not for me. I've been participating in a project called 100 Days of Summer and am only on Day 62. In this challenge, people from all over the globe are posting artwork of some kind, poems and prose, and sharing them with one another on a Facebook page created for this event. Apparently the group did the same thing last year, but this is my first time... and guess what? I love it.

I decided to use pictures, so I started a new blog, 100 Lazy Days, especially for this purpose. I've had so much fun going through all the photos that I wasn't doing anything with and sharing them with someone other than family. I've always been a picture taker, and although I'd never call myself a "photographer" per se, I do believe I have a good eye. I think poetry and photography are connected. You can read why here.

One of the group members, Dorothee Lang, asked us to take a moment and reflect upon what we've accomplished during the first fifty days (I know, I'm a little late but I've had three birthdays in August and back-to-school to prepare for). Here are her questions with my answers:

1) From your own works so far, which day is your personal favorite? That's hard, but I'd have to go with Day 33 because how many times would I catch a seagull eating bread out of Pete's hands at just the right moment? Which one is your favorite?

2) What approach/concept for the 100 days did you have at the start? Did it change, and if so, how? At first I had no idea what I'd do. I posted some with little ditties or explanations, but then decided to only share photos.

3) How do you feel about the 100 days of summer so far? I've really enjoyed honing in on this other artistic side of me. I regret not having the ample time to read through everyone's contributions on a daily basis, but I think we're all in the same boat and understand.

If you choose to visit 100 Lazy Days, please note the options at the top. These allow you to view my pictures different ways. My favorites are "snapshot" and "mosaic" because all the photos are laid out like a collage. You can also click the picture to see a bigger version of it.

Happy Labor Day

Long deserved rest for the working individual
Always willing to lend a hand despite data
Believed to be true; an unemployment stab
Omitting the fact most of us do our share, so
Remember to honor this day, remember

Dads, moms, sisters, brothers, friends; likened
Allies join together to unwind, relax on the sofa
You, yes you deserve a break from labor today

*This is a double acrostic poem. I wrote one for Memorial Day and posted it (here) on my other blog, Bird's-Eye Gemini.

Linking to Imaginary Gardens Open Link Monday

Sunday, September 2, 2012


Summer Night, 1913, by Albert Bloch
Picture prompt from The Mag 133 

A blue moon,
hands in pants
absurdity, obscure
(per)chance when
ghostly demons come
to play swirly, curly
pleasure points, a milky
dream-like cherry stance.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

A HURRication Paradise

Photo by L. Kolp
100 Lazy Days

My safe haven,
heaven in a backyard scene;
a white wrought-iron seat
between a green vine heart
connecting me to you.
As above the bluest blue,
bluer than Paul Newman's eyes,
a waterfall trickles
lucid thoughts a splash, a drop
of doubt
of fear
of what I left behind;
Ike's wrath the path to here,
a HURRication
one might have thought
they'd only find in movies.

This is a picture of where I stayed after Hurricane Ike. The whole family rode out the storm (BAD decision). The next day, a friend and I took the kids to her brother's house. This picture of his backyard is merely a snippet of this paradise where we stayed. After Hurricane Rita, we had stayed with family members in another beautiful part of Dallas. There have been so many evacuations in my children's memories that they have come to think of them as hurricane vacations, or HURRications. I pray we don't take one this year.


Prompt inspiration: Imaginary Gardens- Sunday Photo Prompt