46

image 'Purple Heaven' by Ryse95 courtesy Deviant Art



PURPLE EVER
I am never at the end of this journey
Merely a passer by in your time surely
Purple ever, the colour of snow and sky
One has only to nod and never to sigh
Shirring sounds echo, mimicking helicopters
Shhh, shhhh music is never to loud for ears
Inverted into exactly one million cells airs
Beautiful melodies for two-feet tapping
Loud is omitted from every word art mapping
Energy abounds and seasons flow in symmetry
© gillena cox




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

45

OF ANCESTORS
one of these days, i’ll write about that place,
of my ancestors; that place of clouds canopy,
gilded, tasselled, canopy of jewelled nectars;
here they call them stars, nectars flow forth,
from the tips of radiance, spilling forth gods,
whose shape and form, gods only know of;
humans have yet to discover beauty of eternity
a life time sphere; eternity exists for the pleasure
of the one they refer to as good, pleasure he
spelled from the breath of his vast milky way;
not the way we read a poem, oh no not like that
how then? dont ask me that, i cannot tell; will Alice?
who Alice? she doesn't hesitate, when to eat or follow;
i’ll follow him then; who? whom? will you follow when?
enough! when is enough? tis not for pondering, this;
tis for sheer fantasy this, so read on;
if only i did continue on to write, and write,
and write those thoughts, of ancestors. there
is no colour in this po..e...m there is only sparkle.


Written for the prompt today at
Poems In April DAY SEVEN - The Tuesday Platform, a prompt-free poem, today anything goes....

Monday WRites - 6

image from google


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 #6; whats your mood today ❧✿❧ my poem today is a cinquain; 2.4.6.8.2 syllable form ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites

the stars
are far away yes
my grand child told me so
she is just two going on three
sweetheart
© gillena cox

GRAB MY BUTTON
<br /> <a href="http://myblog-verses.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0C9WPzL5kFEY1gEitLn4bC5inZjfq2beowWitvrD3zLruIRMxxj1RyrHw6Xcd6SlmEASrTd6rLFn4mfF8D8XC5Mz4ASE8iblAAmc3uaKNuHtYgvzIWajyH64D6kzlwugaU8wP610yKLRq/s320/button2Monday+WRites.jpg" alt="verses" /></a><br />



I Wrote in response to the prompt today at
Poems In April Seeing Stars - Sixth Day of National Poetry Month


oh and i luvvvvv this, hope you enjoy ❧✿❧ HAPPY EASTER MONDAY

43

EMPTIED
ah yes a tomb, entombed, non too soon;
for words, presaged this death, divinely ordered;
love takes; well, as we know it;
so who gives of his only, hard to explain

she was struck not by a rock, words from winged ones;
“He is not here, he is risen, go tell Peter and the others”
© gillena cox 2015




Written for the prompt today at
Poems In April DAY FIVE

THE CHALLENGE
The rules for this prompt are simple: write a poem or piece of prose in precisely 55 words.
The optional extra for this challenge is to include a reference to any aspect of Easter in your poem.

42

ONIONS
What does it matter tears adding winks to the aromas; just adding more saltiness i suppose, a scenario of chopping and slicing, slicing and chopping, needs the empathy of wholesome joy, so yes let the tears flow before the hungers are appeased.
What matters then, if you wring your sadness like clothes wet, from the washing tub into the dross of daily menus, into bellies belied of gratitude.
The sauce of ungrudging toil, of course! not like a day at the mines in the earth’s dark womb to triumph the cause of sparkle, sparkling cut stoned diamante
Does it matter if mockery lures the smiles of tired hands and unassuming
gait, into accepting a bargain for a pledge, or a fledge or fledgling passion.
The weight of trump cards played like words at the gaming table, serves to
sweeten the delight of augur. Passion please take your seat to the left of the head table where the carrots cannot not be eaten.
© gillena cox 2015







Written for the prompt today at
Poems In April DAY FOUR - Caution: Tender Buttons

THE CHALLENGE
Read the excerpts from Tender Buttons given and write a short poem about an object, foods, or a room in the style of Stein. If you are one of the many readers who find Stein's work inaccessible or baffling or just not inspired by Tender Buttons???? then your challenge will be to write a poem without any gendered pronouns (she or he).

I CHOSE FOR MY INSPIRATION THIS EXCERPT FROM STEIN'S - ROOMS
Why is there more craving than there is in a mountain. This does not seem strange to one, it does not seem strange to an echo and more surely is in there not being a habit. Why is there so much useless suffering. Why is there.
Any wet weather means an open window, what is attaching eating, anything that is violent and cooking and shows weather is the same in the end and why is there more use in something than in all that.
The cases are made and books, back books are used to secure tears and church. They are even used to exchange black slippers. They can not be mended with wax. They show no need of any such occasion.

41

hummingbird and Barbados pride flower from google dot com



THE GARDEN: FIRST DELIGHT
A pretty garden in sunshine and in rain
Dahlias, Vanda orchids, Barbados pride
Lots more, single petalled and double
Hummingbirds, danced the backwards dance,
That no other bird did, or maybe could not;

The weeds grew unannounced, uninvited;
In lieu of a beating, children pulled these weeds,
To their benefit, venting anger for reproach;
The parents thought they won, let them think so,
Ha!

Children can win, at the game of: "do this, do so,"
Also;
The Pomerac tree, carpeted the sight of friends, and,
Visitors alike, with its very pink, yet delicate blossom fall;
A lovely transition to delicious mealy fruit
© gillena cox 2015



I'm blog hopping today at
Poems In April DAY TWO

40

Pink Poui - Queens Park Savannah; Yellow Poui - Woodford Square; Port of Spain, Trinidad



TIMELY DRILL
Igniting a fire to holiness remembreth,
The flame of Holy Week catches April,
As she slips past the faded edges of March;
Pinks and yellows of poui trees a timely drill

Setting aflame mountain and park
Awesome views of beauty stark
© gillena cox








Written in response to the prompt at Poetry Jam 'The Flame'