155

image below my Paranderos 2009 haiga reposted

PARADEROS
He is aged, like the mountains surrounding green valleys
His teeth, what's left of them, stained with aguinaldos
Announcements; from maracas shaking, mandolin strumming
Men, chanting of the king born in a manger to Mary
El Senor, they call him
Ah those women, in frilly skirts like swaying bougainvillea
On branch tips, espadrilles embedded, on dancing feet
The rum, free and hot, gushes through blood-heated veins
Here passion flows to warm already hots days, when gypsy like
They stray from their homes, to carry the spirit of Christmas days.
This vintage energy still lives,in the young ones, singing
The strains of the parang today
PARADEROS © gillena cox 2015


Written for Susan's prompt

Energy, Vitality

154

image from google dot com


THE WAITING
I wait behind a curtain
Veiled in hope for certain
Fairy winds blow such whimsies
Dusting pleas to far away galaxies
A king is to come in glory
He returns for sure who knew me
As a thought stirred in creation
As a breath whispered in oration
A host of angels
For rightful destiny assembles
He is coming again
This king, creation to regain
I wait behind a curtain
Veiled in hope for certain
THE WAITING © gillena cox 2015


Written for Bjorn's prompt
Waiting for something good... or not

Will link also to The Tuesday Platform

153

photos of me dread

DREAD
Square pegs are not for round craters
That is if you want a fitted match
Apples are fruit and so are tomatoes
Sometimes distance is minuscule
Not like stars or dreams
I'm always in dread of being lumped in goo
Like not too nicely done oatmeal
How many times have i said to my children
"Well i'm not such and such's mum, so NO!!!"
Oh and; this is a good one - " i'm not You women
I am A woman"
On a sandy beach no one dares counting particles
yet, how lovely the layout
Square pegs can fill a round basket
I used to be dread (smiles)
No, no no
Not evil scary dread; dread.
DREAD © gillena cox


Written for

Fireblossom Friday: Dread
I choose to write a fun piece; lightheartedness is what i do best

152

image from google dot com

SPELLED
One dress worn to sunlight, worn to sunset
Then the song of wind repeated through the week
Counting days one two three four five six seven
One dress worn to sunlight, worn to sunset
Whispers and smirks, scrawled manila folders
Yet, office talk never, never questioned, Why?
That was before cell era, children had no voices
Outside of playground squeals of fun, voices
Of children were for loud laughter and nothing else.
The kind you said SHUT UP, SHHH, to
So who wants to hear the woes of a sixteen year old
Fondled in-ap-pro-pri-ate-ly
Breasts grow to tempt, its what girls do
So just shove them out into the street
Banishment makes such things right
And for-get about every-thing
One dress worn to sunlight, worn to sunset
The keys were given, the rent was paid
He brought his smiles, his innocence and companionship
With unwritten invitation, the fittest kind
Did he know why this apart-ment now housed me
Our smiles meshed into kisses into comfort
Into freedom into ap-pro-pri-ate
We ate pao, he bought from the corner chinese shop
Between mouthfuls we kissed ap-pro-pri-ate-ly
Never talking of scoundrels spelled fa-ther
One dress worn to sunlight, worn to sunset
We bought our own house, where our kisses
From room, to room to room, painting swoons spread
Fairy umbrellas are called mushrooms
Some are edible some are not
We loved the ones bought at the grocery store
Edible, nutritious, nourishing
One dress worn to sunlight, worn to sunset
We spelled the world l-o-v-e
It rolled off our tongues into more delightful kisses
French rolls, and Swiss rolls all in the bread section
Daily amassing kids, stoves, chairs, walks in the evenings
Not everything fits in a grocery cart
One dress worn to sunlight, worn to sunset
He had to leave, had to spread his man-wings
My love, my saviour, my hero, spelled hus-band
Wretched women who want whatever wives worship
Who would-have-thought
Now withered and weather-beaten, he's still my only hero
Life begins in the arms of the hero, not so?
One dress worn to sunlight, worn to sunset
I never wear one dress throughout any one day
Just like i never understood, why i, had to be capitalized
Nah!
Not anymore!!!
SPELLED © gillena cox 2015


Written for Susan's prompt
Midweek Motif ~ Survival


Today is the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women. Breaking the cycle of violence against women and girls. Stopping violence altogether.
CHALLENGE: Speak about survival so that others may listen. Write a new poem because that is what we do.

151

JUST BECAUSE
That time of year once more
When the bracts turn red
On the poinsettia
When every one want
To be merry and bright
So they sing about
This boy child
The Aguinaldos
Will announce

The joy of His coming
Into the world
Emmanuel is He
And the children wait
With excitement
For the visit of ole Saint Nich
Bringing gifts to all
Good or bad
Just because
Its Christmas
JUST BECAUSE © gillena cox
first published at Poemhumter 2011

#Aguinaldo - a parang song
#Parang - a music tradition of Trinidad and Tobago



Blog hopping today at Tuesday Platform

Monday WRites 39

TIS THE SEASON
Ribbons and bows tangle
Gift-listed in a harangue
No audience is present
To witness, Scrooge-like
Sentiments dissolved, misty
In morning waning a moon
Waxing sunlight and song
Malls adorned, pockets loosened
Magic of a season cradled
From manger hay, swaddling
Gullibility excusable.
TIS THE SEASON © gillena cox 2015



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 #39, ❧✿❧ 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 />

149

Peacock photo from my visit to The Wild Fowl Trust, Point a Pierre, Trinidad in March 2012

CRUNCH COLOUR AND LACE
In a crunch of dried leaves he stood there looking at us
A group of curious passersby wearing the click
On our cell phones

I wonder if his plumes are wide open today displaying
The arrogance of a male Narcissus carrying
His colours in radiance

Maybe he will give his white queen some of his plumage
To paints her sons dazzling jewels in the sunny roost, maybe
White lace if daughters
© gillena cox 2015



Written for Kerry's Play It Again Toads #23
i choose Brudberg's Time Travel