Plain or Pretty – we can all relate to this

A reminder about the challenges of growing into ourselves.

Unknown
I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth
And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say “come dance with me”
And murmured vague obscenities
It isn’t all it seems at seventeen
A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
Said: “pity please the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve”
The rich relationed hometown queen
Marries into what she needs
With a guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly
So remember those who win the game
Lose the love they sought to gain
In debitures of quality and dubious integrity
Their small-town eyes will gape at you
In dull surprise when payment due
Exceeds accounts received at seventeen
To those of us who knew the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
The world was younger than today
When dreams were all they gave for free
To ugly duckling girls like me…
We all play the game, and when we dare
We cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
That call and say: “come on, dance with me”
And murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me, at seventeen
                    by Janis Ian
photo credit
daily post prompt: Dubious

It Began as a Stroll

It began as a stroll

both hand in hand

until she said no,

taking a stand

 

He turned to her face

and yelled some rude words

She knew right away

the man was absurd

 

Confident now

about the division

she strutted away

and praised her decision

 

IMG_2800 2

 

Painting by CD-W

daily word prompt: Strut

Critter Clocks

He sat and pondered on his couch

engrossed by such a  day

the clock forgot to set itself

and the shadows ran astray

 

He’d sat enthralled much earlier

inside a chicken coop

grew feathers on his arms and legs

and hollered out a “whoop!”

 

No chicken soup tonight, he thought

those birds might yell at me

gingerly, of course they would,

but not a guarantee

 

The plumes were gone but there he sat

in room with critter clocks

Ben was clever, and Ben was glad

to live outside a box.

IMG_2853

Painting by CD-W (1 of 3 in my Ben series)

 

daily word prompt: Gingerly

Nothing to Fear

 

Don’t be afraid

open the window

let in the air

Take a peek inside, see

hearts and ire

candles and daggers

roses and soot

monuments and ruins

a fortress and a tennament

a marauder and a Nobel

thunderstorms and clear skies

an anchor and a lifeboat

You are all of these

Open your window

let in the air

see you faults and graces,

your discord and harmony

Learn

Feel

Accept

And when you do

There is nothing to fear

on Armistice Day.

IMG_2749 (1)

 

painting by CD-W

 

Weekly Photo Prompt: Peek

I Heard But Couldn’t See

I heard but couldn’t see

blurred

vacant

distorted eyes

a loss of vision

in living life

my flawed decision

a deception

 a perception

distorted

I heard but couldn’t see

Three times

the clock chimed,

“revise”

“revise”

“revise”

tick tock – mind blocked

tick tock – unlock

And then I saw

eyes can shift

with temerity

into clarity

from the surreal

to reality

by making a change

 

IMG_2732 2

painting by CD-W

 

daily post prompt: Surreal

Don’t Take My Mad

I like my mad

it suits me just fine

Don’t try to take it, or break it

 it’s mine.

 

I’m Tarzan on a swing

Foreman in the ring

my ire shoots out

like a natural spring

 

I like my mad

it keeps me sane

Don’t try to grab it, can’t have it

That plain?

 

I’m the big Head Cheese

master of the seas

call me Poseidon, Zeus

or Hercules

 

I like my mad

it’s something to do

not bored, this chord

strikes a charge or two

 

I’m a fine deal breaker

head dough maker

truth be told,

an emotion faker

 

I like my mad

what’s wrong with a vent?

Just bent not knowing

where everyone went.

2864316-MQHNEAZA-7

photo credit

 

To Plant Again

A meager end of one’s desires

Helpless, falls within the fires

Softly heard the silent pleas

For targets reached with greater ease.

Bemoan the loss of relinquished goals

That lay defeated upon the coals

As sparks take flight and seconds clash

They cruelly wither and turn to ash.

Rising yet above the flame

Release of who or what to blame

To plant again a seed accrued

From hopes of life and dreams renewed.

journal plans

(My poetry made into a painting)

 

Daily Prompt: Release

White Girl Dancin’

Small town Mississippi

visitin’  a friend

 stayin’ in a shotgun house

tilted on one end

Main Street short

railroad long

light’nin’ bugs flicker

with their own torch song

Blues man playin’

me ‘an cook staff laughin’

 holding’ our bellies

at this white girl dancin’

White girl dancin’

White folk glarin’

Happy don’t care

 jus’ keep on starin’

visiting Miss“Mississippi’n Me”

 

 

 

 

The Nestling

I woke to morn, mouth open wide

yet not in feathered bed

but in a nest atop a tree

and reaching toward the sky

 

Perched high from ground to take the fruit

wearing but my skin of birth

abrupt and swiftly wisdom flowed

awareness taking root

 

I wake to morn and wonder meaning

of a message kindly sent

by some wise spirit who had appeared

while I lay deftly dreaming.

enlightenment

(I sketched this the morning after so I would not forget)