1150

 [photo courtesy Michelle Beauchamp at dVerse Poets Pub]

Everyday A Possibility

Life without regret

Opens the living to better futures;

Hope is not a resting place,

but a starting point - a cactus,

not a cushion, which encourages couch potatoes to rest on laurels;

No! hope can take wings

In flights of imagination,

Acting out hunches 

Much like the poet, molding words

Into tangible responses to

Everyday possibilities 

© gillenacox2024

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Open Link Night # 357

Today's mini prompt

Consider these lines of wisdom by American author, H. Jackson Brown Jr.

“Be a cactus in a world of delicate flowers.”

“Hope is not a resting place but a starting point – a cactus, not a cushion.”

1149

 [Bing AI generated image]

Just A Leaping Nonsense

A frog leaps into a pond

There is a splash

Significant enough to found

A poem so small in a flash

Haiku of Basho

Oh oh oh

Oh oh oh

When it is hot so

Hot you really want to make a dash

Save a notebook that was found

Or make potatoes into a mash

A poem leaps into a pond

gillenacox2024

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

dVerse Poetics Tuesday — 2024 Poets Leaping

REVISIT TO READ

20190227

20170227

1148

 [image from google]

We here in Trinidad and Tobago are experiencing our Dry Season one of the two climatic seasons prescribed to us.

Dry Season is a boon for the carnival minded. All that sun adds sparkle to glitter and shimmer of costumes. And gives valid excuse to peel down and revel on carnival days.

And after the carnival bacchanal the cool-down on beaches, but preferably under a beach umbrella.

While the more penitent fast and abstain in Lenten style.

Yesterday it rained and rained. A sudden outburst from a cumulus happy sky. Happens.

from rain-soaked sky

February moon sails in -

before night lamps light

© gillena cox 2024

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Haibun Monday 2-26-24: Snow Moon)  

REVISIT TO READ

Monday WRites 431

20160226
MUST BE THE MOON

THIS IS MONDAY WRITES 432

1147

image from pinterest

 A touch of sunshine

A dash of azure

This poem wanders into

A bright day

Eyes are viewing

The same scenes as yesterday

Only one bird led the chorus

At daybreak shrill and right 

What of sunset

Will there be a touch of gold

© gillena cox 2024

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Quadrille #195 – Don’t Touch that Dial! (Stay and Write a Poem)  

the prompt is touch

REVISIT TO READ

Monday WRites 430

20160219
20180219

THIS IS MONDAY WRITES 431

HAPPY FEBRUARY TO ALL

1146

[google dot com image]

 

This is what i read at the live meeting this Saturday  

 If you want to read it at the blog GO HERE

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Open Link Night #356(With little edition)

1145

 I used a grackle image from google to compose this image at picsart ©gillenacox2024

the carnival is over

loud music

no longer harangues

the  neighbourhood

no lilacs here but 

a grackle  on my wall has its say

gillenacox2024

##TODAY'S POEM IS A CHERITA...no title, verses: i line .3 lines. 2lines. .presented in lowercase.

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Open Link Night #356 (with Live edition)

REVISIT TO READ

20230215

20210215
20180215

1144

 Words On A Wall At A Ruins

Once; when the world danced

In riots joy

A feathered headdress lurked

Waiting to hurl a signal

The way a drum throbs

Life into meaningful dreams

gillenacox2024

#fiction #ficticious place

© gillena cox 2024

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Poetics: It’s Written in Stone

REVISIT TO READ

20230213

20190213
20180213

1143

[a jouvert band 2024 here in St James🇹🇹]

It is hot and bright after the jouvert mud mas, there is wild abandonment in the streets. This will shock only first-time observers.

This is sun season, dry season carnival season. This is February, with Valentine's Day easing in with roses and hopefully no thorns.

Soon The Wet Season to follow. But when the city lilacs release their sweet, wild perfume then bow down, heavy with rain; the yellow poui on the mountains will light up any overcast day.

gillenacox2024

[yellow poui on the mountain]

NOTE: 

Jouvert is the opening of the 2day adult masquerade through the streets. It is usually quite a dirty event. Traditionally the revellers are covered  or splashed in mud. It all starts as early as 3: 00AM.

Poui a flowering tree

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Prosery: City Lilacs 

ASKED TO USE THE LINES‘

…city lilacs release their sweet, wild perfume then bow down, heavy with rain.’ 

in a prose writing not more than 133 words

AND

Mosaic Monday#70

REVISIT TO READ

Monday WRites 429

20200212
20180212

THIS IS MONDAY WRITES 430

HAPPY FEBRUARY TO ALL

1142

 HOT DRY HEAT

The flowers bloom,

Obvlious of the heat,

The hardy ones;

Like bougainvillea,

And ixora.

The sky is bright,

A blue sky for sure,

Cumulus; like bagged

Cotton candy at a fair,

The flowers bloom.

Some with thorns,

Some without,

Isn't life like that,

For those pretty ones?

The sky is bright.

You just have to look up;

What is it about azure,

The colour of wonder,

And of blooms,

Some with thorns.

Like barbed wire,

Keeping out,

And sometimes keeping in

Screams, even when

You just have to look up.

Those fearless birds,

Tired of chirping,

Sit and rest;

Some even preen on lines,

Like barbed wire 

© gillena cox 2024

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

MTB: Cascading in Fives;

REVISIT TO READ

20220208

20210208
20160208

1141

The following is but a tiny sampling of children masquerade along The Western 

Main Road in St James yesterday

Image: a quadrille

Wrought from imagination

A dragon

Or princess

Is creative business

Bringing much fun

In the sun

And great joy

To both girl and boy

There is wire bending

And attention spending

Sequins to stick on

The list goes on and on

Then the parades

 ©gillenacox2024

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Mosaic Monday#69

AND

Come play with me 

REVISIT TO READ

Monday WRites 428

20180205
20170205

THIS IS MONDAY WRITES 429

HAPPY FEBRUARY TO ALL

1140

image credit HERE

  Fo'day Morning Expletives

Anger finds itself impaled upon a 

spike like capon thus designed to naught

Obscenities reward excessive way

Locked in cursive verbal longings sought

Tis wee hours of morning arriving  

Dawn to yawning  loud stories be told

Tired stars see all as useless striving

Shadows carry restless drunks so bold 

 © gillena cox 2024

NOTE: Fo'day Morning; a Trini idiom, is that time between dawn and morning light

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Open Link 355

my poem is a Todaid and links back to

  MTB: Toddaid

REVISIT
20210201
20180201
20210201