22

image courtesy Mag Pie Tales


MS ME
she's the one, who clears my thoughts...
of mundane vagaries, and lifts me aught
to the sighs of angels tripping words over
tumbling from shelves as at a grocer;
Ms Me:
i purchase my soul, for a plastic worth
of chocolate hearts, and wager the dearth...
of love lost in a matrix of clever excuses;
stepping up to the dais, of world wide recluses
Ms Me:
i shout from a podium mysterious
voices, shattering mirror mirror of fastidious...
mirror mirror of lookers Look!!!...Seers!!! see
the toy-maker's coils shaping the you and the me
© gillena cox



written in response to the photo prompt The Mag 257

21

image courtesy imaginary garden with real toads


IN LOVELY GRENADA
the lashes of my eyes flicker with thoughts of hot sand
hot sand scorching my mind to savour the insoles of feet
of feet trending from a skimpy bikini, its string tying my navel
tying my navel to the gentle rippling waves of Grand Anse
Grand Anse beach where i'll sit under a big hat
a big hat which hides my birth scar when i visit on vacation
© gillena cox



Written in response to 'Your Poetic Eye: Kumulipo'

Ella's challenge for us today - to take the place where you were born-the state, the providence, the country-whatever you prefer and add the richness of this area to your poem.

“The “Kumulipo” is an old Hawaiian prayer chant that poetically describes the creation of the world. The word literally means “beginning-in-deep-darkness.” Here darkness doesn’t connote gloom and evil. Rather, it’s about the inscrutability of the embryonic state; the obscure chaos that reigns before germination.”

O ke au i kahuli wela ka honua
O ke au i kahuli lole ka lani
O ke au i kukaʻiaka ka la
O ke au o Makali'i ka po...


In English:

At the time when the earth became hot
At the time when the heavens turned about
At the time when the sun was darkened
To cause the moon to shine...

20

image from google dot com


ST GEORGES TO PORT OF SPAIN

I remember the scent of lime,
Not a flower, a fruit; citrus, like the acid passage of time;
Wave upon wave of Caribbean salt in a hazy vast,
Not seeing, just understanding, feelings of gast;

The scent of lime, would settle the stomach
Not withstanding, and however, some will vomit
This i later came to know
Hearing grown-ups talk, "this and that and so and so..."

Not withstanding, age and status, how come?
Ha!!! the march to the adult's drum
No one told me of this before, me and my mother
To be womb-ed at sea, in a boat, going further

Than the market place, down Market Hill.
St Georges to Port of Spain; i'm still
Age about four or five. I remember the scent of lime.
In my contemplation..... like the acid passage of time;
© gillena cox



Written in response to the prompt at Poetry Jam 'Journey'

19

image courtesy imaginary garden with real toads



LAVENDER - LOOKING BACK

Days of sunshine glow -
The June sun, hot on the threshold
Of healing pain, and aspirins with awakening;
Like a beloved teddy bear,
Stitches bear the marks of closure;
Those fibrous cells, harmful unnatural settlers,
Have been gorged out;
Eviction through the surgeon's blade;
Now restful, sleep filled days regain,
Doused in splashes of lavender cologne
The mandate of life renewed;
Its Y2K1, a millennium, still young, progresses.
© gillena cox




Written in response to Transforming Thursday/Friday with Nature's Wonders - 'Lavender Fields'

18

THE STAGE - QUEENS PARK SAVANNAH

Someday; and maybe
when the rains pour in torrents,
A river will be sated;
All the colours and hues of ever,
A rainbow curved in splendor,
Of the masquerade; to trample
The stage of The Queen's Park Savannah,
That other-world,
Where the bacchanalia chants,
Rhythms of the consenting soul;
Who will choreographs the tongues of
Ribald and risque?



Only the essential player ethos will;
Miles and miles of road
Untraveled by the traveled
Not a bird on a branch
All feathers been donned, in this costuming process,
This river of rainbow sating wrecked consciousness;
A spell of madness,contained joviality,
Bacchanal season !!!
All ripe with the mode of gyrations.



His pantaloons jingle...jingle ...jingle...
The whip of the jab jab cracks Carnival Monday stage
He's a hopeless one the ‘ole mas’ who drifts from the band
To the giggle of two young girls

Come Tuesday more sun !!! more sun to scorch, already heated,
The masquerade spirit
© gillena cox


2015 February 16th and 17th - Carnival Monday and Tuesday in Trinidad and Tobago

Trinidad Carnival images from google dot com


Written in response to THE TUESDAY PLATFORM


...

And linked to the prompt at Poetry Jam Tis the Season

17

image courtesy Magpie Tales



Perched, in the glimpse of a moth;
Your eyes, sooty black with shadows,
Of countless sleeping stars;
Refusing to twinkle, for night carries,
Its own radiance, its own cadence.
© gillena cox 2015



written in response to the photo prompt The Mag 225

16

hibiscus flower opening up from google dot com



TOMORROWS
In breath, slowly.... slowly....
Awaken the pink clouds of morning dew
The eyelids of those sleepers
Those buds of adventures
Sheltered in sleep of ancient patternings
The fabric of colour fragrance and shape
Hungry for the light of solar rays
Supernova shinning day star - Sun
Pour your warm breath of life giving
Hope to the fires of tomorrows
Consume the void of night
© gillena cox

[64 words title included]

Written in response to
Words Count With Mama Zen...challenge - What are you hungry for? Tell me in 60 words or less . . . but take an extra ten if you can make me blush.



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