Monday, August 29, 2016

Monday WRites 72


[internet image]

AN ELEPHANT INVITED TO TEA
Steaming hot let lava be poured
Like some molten treasure offered
From Gods in fashioning a ceremony
To humans appealing returned satiety

An elephant at tea; tusks of ivory, see?

Or we turn the tables on free will
Let gravity pardon the outflow still
This soothing poured from generous spout
Sipping mercy at the grail of avid doubt

An elephant, heavy-hoofed; squeals at a mouse.

Hush then the cry of children's blood
Wanting a little more of earth to bud
Before sustenance of heaven to taste
Four-score-and-ten at least retrace
AN ELEPHANT INVITED TO TEA © gillena cox 2016




You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #72, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites



verses



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Blog hopping at the
The Tuesday Platform
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads



Saturday, August 27, 2016

274


TO WALK MORNINGS
Sweat nestles between my breast,
Drips down from hair to ear.
A crisp cut is hidden on the breeze,
Before the heat, sizzles brain cells.

Thinking expands: to clouds shared,
By me, by you, by everyone of us;
Whether we are out in the new sun,
Walking in old sneakers, or,

Planning to buy new ones.
So another day, when the car
Is parked at the mall,
Looking down on the scenic view,

Trying to click a photo,
Of the then setting sun,
Oh, but there's nor enough space
On the phone, too much data.

New sneakers have been bought
Nonetheless, for walking
In the crisp morning air.
And the sweat will nestle

Between my breast, and drip
From hair down to ear.
TO WALK MORNINGS © gillena cox 2016


Blog hopping today at
Prompt Nights – A photograph is but a memory in raw format – [26]


“Whether he is an artist or not, the photographer is a joyous sensualist, for the simple reason that the eye traffics in feelings, not in thoughts.” – Walker Evans

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[my song choice for your listening enjoyment today]

Thursday, August 25, 2016

273

Morning Sun haiga 2006


MORNING SUN ENSEMBLE[2016]
Clouds take on yellow hue
Hope bright at daybreak true
Burnish underbelly of kiskadee
Winging songs that morning may be
Gentle on hearts of so sorrowing
Bees to nectar bring thy buzzing
Providence map, care divine
Greed mist out, love reassign.
MORNING SUN ENSEMBLE © gillena cox 2016


Blog hopping today at
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
In response to Marian's prompt Little Tiny



Monday, August 22, 2016

Monday WRites #71


WHAT'S IN A NAME
I sound my name, sound my name, sound my name
Again and again
But who cares for my worthless repeat,
My aim? my aim?
Toward the targets of wanton mischief lame
On you, oh shame! shame!
Know this, he who is, knows me by name
He reigns, he reigns
I sound my name, again and again
He reigns! he knows me by name.
WHAT'S IN A NAME © gillena cox 2016



You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #71, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites



verses




Blog hopping at the
The Tuesday Platform
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads




Sunday, August 21, 2016

271


The Scream by Edvard Munch(1868-1944)
courtesy Wikipedia

A SCREAMING
The clop clop of horses hooves
Sounds through dawning reproves

Space gapes through empty tomb
Void of conclusions now to subsume

Then pinched Pilate, the great Caeasar
To quiet this screaming non-Balthasar

This is not what we came to see
A SCREAMING © gillena cox 2016

Blog hopping in response to Kerry's prompt
Not What We came To See ~ Micro Poetry
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

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The Projectionist’s Nightmare

This is the projectionist’s nightmare:
A bird finds its way into the cinema,
Finds the beam, flies down it,
smashes into a screen depicting a garden,
a sunset and two people being nice to each other.
Real blood, intestines, slither down
the likeness of a tree.
“This is no good,” screams the audience,
“This is not what we came to see.”

Brian Patten
Liverpool, UK

Friday, August 19, 2016

270


[image 'blame it on the moon' from google dot com]

NIGHT ROMPS
Sing sweetly so for prithee tis night
Where such of dark shadows ply thee
Susurrations eerie stay thy trade
For fading light and sighing might
Appear adventurers apples be offered
From unseen hands clear ethereal sight
NIGHT ROMPS © gillena cox 20160819

Blog hopping to Sanaa's prompt
On Popular Demand – Lets gather around for some ghost stories – [8]



[my video of choice]



269


[aboriginal art from google dot com]

TOPSY TURVY TURNING TALES
Music screeched to crescendos with tentacles
Wrapping spider's webs in diaphanous songs
The aliens had landed

Mother ship pods shaking giant red bean heads
Chattered verso lilting verbs in naming things
The beginning was near

Partying dog-eared dorks, hot lava like gyrations
Moved eager wallflowers to early Autumnal wilts
Heavens gates were closing
TOPSY TURVY TURNING TALES © gillena cox 2016


Blog hopping today in response to Fireblossom's prompt
Perchance To Dream
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads


[My video for choice today]