To think another irrelevant
are thoughts from someone arrogant
slow in their development
lacking in their etiquette
don’t let them set a precedent
of how others should be treated.
I much prefer the elephant
obviously more intelligent
and not nearly as conceited!
Photo credit
Daily word prompt; Irrelevant
Twas’ too soon for me to go
an empty vessel still in tow
the darkness loomed, but glowed, that room
the crowd all dapper-dressed.
The iron box of elevation
took us to that destination
the couple smiles, no hesitation
“Congrats on baby quest.”
“Guess it’s not to be,” repeated
words I’d learn, still felt defeated
empty arms I had conceded
A promised heart betrayed of grants
Glasses clinking, lighting winking
champagne fountains made for drinking
my soul betrayed continued sinking
yet how the people danced.
Oh, how those people danced.
photo credit
Why, the mighty serpent,
lay coiled beneath the sea?
Malicious, angry, frightened
of an aimless destiny.
That breath of ire, that binding twist
all internal lies
The whip of tongue, the slash of swords –
veiled in mocked disguise.
How then, perchance, to come alive
in apathetic scales
To lighter states, to softer heart –
what happiness entails.
Unleash the truth and let it soar
to surface, past the churning
through honest waves of grace be found
a myriad of yearning.
daily post prompt: Mighty
photo credit
Before I gift you with my favorite poem (and I DO believe it to be a worthy present) I want to share something with you.
My mother loved birds. She loved watching them eat from their feeders and poke their beaks at her sliding glass door. And, she watched them as she became weaker with age.
I knew of this poem but, after Mom died, it took on a greater significance. As a gift, my sister had this necklace made for me.
On the flip side is the first stanza of my favorite poem.
Here is the beautiful poem by Emily Dickinson:
A big thank you to Ms. Dickinson for creating this poem and to my sister for gifting me with this reminder.
And especially to Mom who, kept warm my soul.
Hope is the thing with feathers.
Daily Word Prompt: Crumb
Great ideas for poetry writers!
We finish our meal and Mother takes all the empty plates off the table and replaces them with the little ones made especially for slices of apple pie.
I take my first bite. The crust is the perfect cover for the apples that melt like butter in my mouth. I eat every single bit of my piece. I even lick my pointer finger and use it like a fork just so I can pick up any stray crumbs.
Ike’s pie is still sitting there, untouched of course. Everybody knows Ike would just as soon be chewing on a piece of mesquite bark than to eat pie. He says he prefers to get his sugar from a whiskey bottle.
I stare at his piece and see that it’s bigger than mine was. The sweet apples ooze out the sides between the top and bottom crust. It’s calling me forward, challenging me to come and get it.
I slowly reach over and pull Ike’s pie in front of me. I stare down at it and wonder if Ike’s piece is gonna taste as good as my first.
Dad says nary a word when he reaches across the table and slowly pulls that slice of pie back over to Ike like we’re playing a game of checkers. I concentrate thinking that the next move is mine. I smile and slowly pull that pie towards me thinking I should be kinged.
The hard slap across my face surprises me and drives me halfway out of my chair.
What the hell just happened?
I stand up knocking my chair over, grab a knife off the table, and swing it under Dad’s chin, wanting to cut his head plumb off.
I’ve made a big mistake. I missed.
Dad runs around to my side of the table holding a craze of fire where his eyes used to be. He grabs me by my shirt collar, and kicks a table leg that snaps off. Dishes crash to the floor. He drags me to the door. I hear it slam shut. We’re outside. He’s not finished.
Although I feel the fast blows to my head and face, they seem to come at me in slow motion. I curl up into a ball on the ground.
“Protect yourself at all times!”
Who’s saying that? Who’s saying that? There’s no one else out here!
“Put your arms around your head! Protect yourself!”
I do as the voice tells me. I wrap my elbows over my ears, my hands on top of my head. Okay, that’s better. It doesn’t hurt as much. My eyes are stinging from the sandstorm. No, it’s a hail storm. I can feel big clumps of ice hammering my body.
My ears ring. Somewhere close to me Pooch is barking his head off. There’s so much noise in my ears, I can’t tell where he is. Then I scream really loud, “The first chance I get, I’m gonna kill you!”, the words that only I can hear.
Excerpt from No Hill for a Stepper by C. Dennis-Willingham, my father’s story
Author’s note: After this event in my father’s life, he later became a boxer in the Army.
Daily word prompt: Crumb
A month ago, I didn’t have to read the fast-food menu.
I already knew what my husband wanted.
I prepared myself to say “a four piece chicken basket, please.”
I pulled up to the speaker.
Why wasn’t Microphone Person saying, “Welcome to Wally’s. May I take your order?” ??
Instead, no one said anything. Not even a snarky, “what would you like?”
“Hello,” I said. “Hello?”
That’s when I realized my mistake.
Had anyone watched me talk into the trash receptacle?
Last Sunday, on the fast food run, I decided not to make the same mistake. Instead, I chuckled and snapped this photo as a reminder.
Of course the world teases and laughs at us at times. How else would Mother Earth spin?
My editor has sent me his comments and the first 100 pages of edits.
Why am I hesitant to get started? Do I need a nudge?
Please hand me some floaties before you push me in.
Daily Word Prompt: Tentative
Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 