146

WANTON DESTRUCTION SPELLS GRIEF

A learning curve to selfish squander
Cravings and covetousness
Hair grown silver
Dyed golden strands of wrath
Tresses of Rapunzel
Let glory down the chapel stairs one step at a time
Rosary beads, hail the peace of a planet
Dwindling blue in blessedness
Aching in love less ness
Harsh unyielding meals of bombs fried
While sticking devilish forkfuls
Of anguish into the throats of
Screams in no way theatrical
In every way real
© gillena cox 2015

[deepest condolences to the people of Paris and of France. In the wake of these terrible attacks]

Written for Weekend Mini Challenge- Blocking Writer's Block

The Challenge: write for seven minutes uninterrupted. At the end of 7 minutes, Then take that piece or take the place you are in and and use it as a springboard for your poem.

145

animation from google dot com


BLUE MORPHO
With the silent passing of the waters
A blue morpho, flits across to a leaf

The river meandering around huge rocks

There are children, clad in bathing suits
Swirling the water, testing first, with their toes
BLUE MORPHO © gillena cox 2015



Written for Susan's prompt
Midweek Motif ~ River

144

Today's image, a photo of my pillow pal
Leo the lion cub.


FLIPPED PAGES
In the lady's garden the elephant eats cabbages,
There among the tomatoes are also some radishes
He stops and he smiles
When his vet comes by
Fetching his naughty behind to bread and circuses
FLIPPED PAGES © gillena cox

Written for The Tuesday Platform

# The Cambridge Dictionaries Online defines the phrase 'bread and circuses' as ​activities or ​official ​plans that are ​intended to ​keep ​people ​happy and to ​stop them from ​noticing or ​complaining about ​problems.
I used the phrase in this poem, pun intended.
I am presently reading with my book club, Water For Elephants by Sara Gruen.
FLIPPED PAGES, comments on a funny scene from the book
Although The Tuesday Platform is open mic,
Marian's introduction influenced my poem today.

Monday WRites 37

Divali animation from google.com


DIVALI LIGHTS
Tall and sturdy, the bamboo yields
To the cutter’s whims, at the festival of lights
The potter’s hands stand their pride
These lamps hold the flame, at the festival of lights
Notched in the bamboo’s knots
Tiny deyas sit their places, at the festival of lights
A slightest breeze, blows in the shadows
Flicker and dance, flames, at the festival of lights
For Sita and Ram, for love and life
Peace and harmony sings, at the festival of lights
DIVALI LIGHTS © gillena cox 2015

Divali lights on the street where i live; 2007




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 #37, ❧✿❧ whats your mood today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites




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 />

142

everything disney animation from google dot com


SILLY ALICE
Dark night,
I mean really dark night,
Tree silhouettes whisper her presence
"November breeze"
A blanket of sky looms quiet and calm
Translating the timing of hours;
Remember where it said “eat me”?
And then, she grew and grew and grew;
I am sure, by the light of the moon
She ate the stars;
Every point, glitter, and stem
That wonderland tramp
Silly Alice!
SILLY ALICE © gillena cox

Written for Isadora Gruye 's prompt
Out of Standard - Remember, Remember

... on the evening of November 5, 1605, a small group of rebels attempted to assassinate King James and his advisors by placing a cache of explosives under the House of Lords. The plot was not successful, and the man caught guarding the explosives , Guy Fawkes, was immediately arrested and soon executed. Ever since England, and other countries across the globe have celebrated November 5 as Guy Fawkes Night. Sometimes thought as a precursor to Thanksgiving, bonfires are lit on the evening of November 5 and effigies of Fawkes are burned as a way to celebrate all the things that never happened.

The challenge: In the spirit of Guy Fawkes Night, to write a poem which celebrates something that never happened.

141

image from google dot com


TRANQUILITY
Then, after breakfast, we walk beside the ocean
There, to savour the sweet saltiness of a special occasion
We bond anew, a special time put aside to share

Joy and sadness into the wet sand compressed
Firm tiny grains, the weight of days travelled to impress
A horizon, unwilling to lift off, staying to care

But the mist is rising, with a breeze for sculpting
Trees into willow wisps, strong, flexible and all yielding
Like a kiss, unspoken, shared with one so dear
TRANQUILITY© gillena cox

Written for Susan's prompt
Midweek Motif ~ Tranquility

140

Pink pumpkins from google dot com


THE BEWITCHING NIGHT IS OVER
I stand on the steps of evasion
Moonpie ascending
A scent lures of baked fog
Misted over the wiles of witchy ways
Bones of children to boil, from wander
Landed on unbeaten paths in howled woods

An un-hooted owl through one sided glimpses
Wary of the tap tap tap of woodpeckers treats
Now rests unruffled
Branch clawed-in for retreat

Pirates earn their plunder from oceans
Vast and wide, deep and muted
In parrot squarks and monkey tales
Curled into fables and eye patches

Thus the night is stretched across galactic spans
Who owns the shadows, the clouded clumps
The silhouettes of stars tipped
To capsize galleys
So Charon may row the oars of souls
Across invisibility, or plead the task to another

Alas for night!
Pink hues of dreamers flutter
Like eyelids awakening to the bleat
Of sweet grass marauded in autumnal crunch

Crushed to reds oranges and gold
You are but a bitter awakening
A whirling whirligig of heaps and mounds
Then words shot through the mesh of day
Happening to clocked hours in minute waltzes
For time dances a ballroom fantasy
Soup anyone?
Two dashes, three pinches, a sprinkle of phrases.
THE BEWITCHING NIGHT IS OVER © gillena cox

Written for Kerry O'Connor's
The Tuesday Platform its open mic