Internal Lies

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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

 

 

 

 

 

Poems of the Heart

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.

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On the flip side is the first stanza of my favorite poem.

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Here is the beautiful poem by Emily Dickinson:

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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

The spider and the fly

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Trap me! (Yes, I dare you)

in deceptive woven lace

woo me with your splendor

inside that dark, confining space

 

Sing me love songs, buy me jewels

rubies, silver, gold

make your smile seem bona fide

and all the truth? Withhold!

 

But know this

 

Just when you thought you’ve caught me

in luring ropes, beware!

look closer in your tangled web

You’ll find it’s empty there

 

(Photo and poetry by C. Dennis-Willingham)

 

Judgment in disguise

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If told to cast the first stone

do you think that I’d obey?

Scar another person

just to please the crowd’s melee?

Those who dress in daily judgement

long in tongue, they criticize

and peel the souls of others,

while cloaked in self-disguise.

Is there any single person

who has never romped astray?

No, I did not think so.

And no, I won’t obey.

A creek with flowing water,

harmonic overtones

a place to sit beneath the Oaks

A better use of stones.

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Author’s note: Photos taken and words written while waiting for my husband to come out of eye surgery. (He’s fine) 🙂

 

daily prompt: Disobey

top photo credit

 

Will You Come?

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Will you row beside me on a lake layered blue

To glide past the mountains in calm solitude

Through ripples of water, a quiet bouquet

just thoughts, without words in a silent buffet

Where worry dissolves with each stroke of the oar

And Nature brings peace, and the soul it restores

— by C. Dennis-Willingham

 

photo credit

 

One-upping the pretentious- Priceless

Miss Pompous puffed out her chest and said,  braying,

“My Chanel suit and shoes are all new!!!”

I lifted my chin at her neighing,

saying,

“You should buy a kazoo.

Or a kangaroo.

‘Cause THIS woman you CANNOT outdo!”

And with the last word, I showed her the bird-

Not a finger, you silly,

My emu!

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 (painting by C. Dennis-Willingham)

daily word prompt: Priceless

 

The Emigrant’s Legacy

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Strong hands once built a structure

in 1889

Ancestors who worked endlessly

in an old, unsettled time.

 

And now, tis I who benefits

a creation made of stone

this house, a loving bounty

and a place I call “my own”.

 

Author’s note: The “homestead” was built by my great-great grandparents after they immigrated from Germany in the 1840’s. This house is shared with the appreciating many.

 

Can you feel Her? Can you see Her in the stone?

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photo taken in Cabo San Lucus, Mexico by C. Dennis-Willingham

She is an old, old woman

full of grace but wisdom more

She rocks within her sinewed arms

a child from long before.

She serves as a reminder

(Through an image made of stone)

those passed are not forgotten, thus

we never are alone.

Love in the Dustbowl

Lyrics from one of my favorite songs.

Baby I know that we’ve got trouble in the fields
When the bankers swarm like locust out there turning away our yield
The trains roll by our silos, silver in the rain
They leave our pockets full of nothing
But our dreams and the golden grain
Have you seen the folks in line downtown at the station
They’re all buying their ticket out and talking the great depression
Our parents had their hard times fifty years ago
When they stood out in these empty fields in dust as deep as snow

[Chorus:]
And all this trouble in our fields
If this rain can fall, these wounds can heal
They’ll never take our native soil
But if we sell that new John Deere
And then we’ll work these crops with sweat and tears
You’ll be the mule I’ll be the plow
Come harvest time we’ll work it out
There’s still a lot of love, here in these troubled fields

There’s a book up on the shelf about the dust bowl days
And there’s a little bit of you and a little bit of me
In the photos on every page
Now our children live in the city and they rest upon our shoulders
They never want the rain to fall or the weather to get colder
[Chorus]

You’ll be the mule I’ll be the plow
Come harvest time we’ll work it out
There’s still a lot of love, here in these troubled fields

 

From Nanci Griffith’s CD: Dustbowl Symphony

       Nanci Griffith – Trouble In The Fields     

What Grandma Says

(I left out some pictures to tickle your imagination)

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Grandma says she visits Mollybird land.

But Grandma is silly.

She plays in the sand.

She hops in a chair,

I see her eyes glisten

She tells me to sit down

and carefully listen.

“There’s a place,” she says, “where

popsicles grow sideways,

where Lollipop trees

sprout only on Sundays.

Where cows milk the garden

The doggy yells, ‘Moo,’

And the carrot pops up

and says, ‘Howdy Do!’

 

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The dragon blows fire

to light up the coals

so miniture rhinos

can climb from their holes.

At lunchtime,

oh, we’re too busy to eat.

We paint with the squirrels

and then take our seats.

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We sit by the ocean

and blow seahorse bubbles

Our thoughts disappear

but our vision, it doubles!

If Tina the Tiger finds you,

don’t worry.

She’ll tickle you fast

then run off in a hurry!

Old Peter Parrot

doesn’t like peace and quiet

He prefers to squawk loudly

and dress like a pirate.

Then, when it’s time,

the Queen steps on her chair,

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and the bicycling frog

is the first to be there.

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Everyone cheers

and why would they not?

She makes them remember

the fun they forgot.

Now, if you don’t believe me,

of course it’s just fine.

But my unicorn’s here

and I must leave on time.

How I get home?

It’s the best thing, no doubt!

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Oh, don’t forget.

If you whistle real loud.

My silly hippo

will float down from the clouds.”

I take hold of the whistle.

I blow super hard.

A hippo? Really?

Will land in her yard?

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© Carolyn Dennis-Willingham, CDW Creations

Lollipop- daily word prompt