180

image from google dot com


NIGHTMARE
Between the toothless gums of the screamer
The waters of the ocean are held tight
There is no gushing forth of wave or ripple
Yet the silence of night sparkle, but
From fiery embers, without passion for sleep
Here sound falls deeper and deeper
Into echoes of void
And breath
At last, gasps before the measure
Of abyss is exhausted
NIGHTMARE © gillena cox 2016


written for Bjorn's prompt
Sunday Mini Challenge: How about the nightly visits?

179

image from google dot com


SHORT VISIT
Protest peeks through the keyhole
For a view of larger 'why didn't they answer'
Why did't they let me in
See now, no one is about
Wait! is that laughter shelved on the mantelpiece?
I searched and searched a long time for this
See now, there it is
Yet, no one is about
Laughter will warm their hearts, when they return
My footsteps retrace to another pace
Where solitude taps its name on the keyboard
And words toss back and forth like ebb tide
When the song of the ocean soothes the soul.
SHORT VISIT © gillena cox 2016


Blog hopping today at
Prompt Nights – A Cup of Nostalgia [4]


AND

Bits of Inspiration ~ Keyhole

178

image from google dot com

Courage and continue are C words
Not meant just for the service of the smile
When the caterpillars are finished eating
Then the chrysalis hangs from the branch
The door to flight are wings of courtesy
Whispering wishes which court the light
Then comes the emerging a curtsy to life
Dynamic and oft times cruel
Onward and further into caverns unexplored
© gillena cox 2016


Written for Sumana's prompt
Courage




#Process Note. In looking for a nice video to compliment or supplement, after posting my poem today, i came across this one and read about the person Henriette DeLille for the first time. Hope you too enjoy this find

Monday WRites 45

a Joe Rao, SPACE.com image

MOON
The moon is a luminous creature
She calls you away from twinkling stars
She is so much like a silent preacher
Telling telling of ways divine
Here, no blizzards blow for this luminous creature
Silent and watchful, today she is round
Slowly she'll etch herself, to a sickle feature
Or morph into shadowy moods as she pleases
Ah, but we know her wiles, we know her nature
We chart manipulations of, her waxing, her waning
We watch closely this luminous creature
MOON © gillena cox 2016

See the Full Moon Names of 2016



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 #45, ❧✿❧ Today's moon poem is a Fold ❧✿❧ whats your mood today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites

176

ON KARMA
A tiny ixora floret drops to the ground
It is neither Winter Fall nor Spring here
It is what the wind does without a sound
It calls to me after the deed is done
Look there, an ixora on the ground
Stalk to petal, tips painted, same colour
Which act was first? colour, fall, wind-bound
Which one started it? Where will it end?
Ah! there it is fragile, found
Maybe at the tip of some poet's pen
Is there kharma in an ixora lain on the ground
ON KARMA © gillena cox 2016


written for prompt #3 at Prompt Nights
Nothing haunts quite like Karma

175

[mountain and cloudscape West Moorings Trinidad 2007]

MOUNTAIN
Face to the mountain, a sunset for sure
Now a contest of lights ensue
In shades of fading grey is night's allure
Clearing a path for bird songs is the mist
In a short span, again, a sunset for sure
But on foggy groggy rain-filled days, she hides
Then returns to seek a smile on faces demure
Who steals a mountain? not even a Grinch
For fear of those voluminous seated cloud secure
In the midst of an evening reverie
Standing again to ponder, a sunset for sure
MOUNTAIN © gillena cox 2016


VISIT TO READ
a mountain haiku


Written for Susan's prompt
Mountain


Listen to Trinidadian Kurt Allen's 'Mountain' Soca

Monday WRites 44

BUBBLES
I watch her fly her bubbles in the backyard

Light and its lightness captured in spaces diaphanous

I drew a picture once, on a postcard

And held a thousand memories in a rosebud sensuous

She, is my grandchild, child of my son

He of my husband, this son of mine, one

So she lets fly her bubbles, this child of my heart

While i hold on to my memories, and we both revel in delight
BUBBLES © gillena cox 2016



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





Back Linking to
Sunday Mini-Challenge Flying From Orlando to Picasso

173

image from google dot com


SILENCE
Where is this place called silence?
Where no bombs blast, and no mother's heart
Laments a son or daughter lost in the wink
Of a moon, hiding behind shadowed clouds?
Ants busy along a wall, caught in side-glimpses
Cause heads to turn
Stars shooting with lustrous tails,
Imprinted in inky black skies, enough
To turn a mermaid's soul green
Out of ear shot, these stars they twinkle,
Yet, Linked to heart and mind;
Is there ever a place called silence?
Shhhh...
SILENCE © gillena cox 2016


Written for Sanaa's Prompt Nights -
Silence

172

RESPOND
Dried stalks, how they talk and talk
And the wind dances, thinking its their song
Then my feet, trample on fallen ones
In conversation, in response
RESPOND © gillena cox 2016



blog hopping today at
Artistic Interpretations with Margaret - Maria Wulf's Visual Poems II


Margaret challenges us with a set of short video clips :listen to the sounds of what you don't see, live in the moment, feel the emotions (or memories). Write in any poetic form you choose. I chose the clip ;Cut corn stalks in the wind'

171

image courtesy Poets United

SOCA LAND is written for the prompt today at
Midweek Motif ~ Food


...
Twelfth Night - William Shakespeare [excerpt]
ACT I SCENE I. DUKE ORSINO's palace.

Enter DUKE ORSINO, CURIO, and other Lords; Musicians attending
DUKE ORSINO
If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die...

❧✿❧

[Exit all - Enter : A New Day]
SCENE II SOCA LAND aka T&T

Soca, is my name
No one can call me tame

I feed on the hips of the young
Not so young, and think young

Carnival is my meal
Sumptuous hearty yield

I know how to make dem whine
Without grapes, i make dem whine

[Exit A New Day: Enter Bacchanalia]
SCENE III: The Road Monday and Tuesday

Party all day all night
Feathers and plumes, plumed feathers
days of Carnival --
fun in the sun, hot hot dust
in yuh face, but who? who cares

[Exit Bacchanalia: Enter incense and ashes]
SCENE IV: Sobriety

Ash Wednesday comes
Pigeon peas pelau left overs
from Tuesday?
the family meal is served
with ashes on the fore head

food for thought -
on the high voltage wires
piece of a costume
SOCA LAND © gillena cox 2016



Process Note
Soca - genre of songs born in Trinidad and Tobago, a mix of Soul and Calypso; sung and also played by Steelbands
T&T -Trinidad and Tobago
dem - them
yuh - your
pelau - a rice and pigeon peas cook up can be done with or without meat
ashes - on the Wednesday, starting the Lenten season for Catholics, ashes is applied to the forehead of the congregation, by the priest, or appointed ministers; at Holy Mass.

170

I imagine a star, rising, much like dandelion puffs in the lightness of an ethereal breeze, spun on the threads of wanderlust and bohemian trysts, the core of vanishing, the sparks of genius, reaching higher higher higher; travelling at the speed of esoteric.

sun beams and moon rays -
in the rhythm of silence
he David fleeing
© gillena cox 2016


## Process Note. I used an image from google dot com, of Bowie clothed in black and white; manipulaled the image using Pic Monkey, to get the present image and added text for a haiga



blog hopping today at
The Tuesday Platform

Monday WRites 43

SPONTANEITY
Her yes, an ever abiding affirmative
Never wondered, never pondered
Just an answer, ready, assertive
Spoken about by prophets before her
Reporting, long before, her abiding affirmative
She who veered the course back to eternity
Life in light, life in the way that is relative
To uncharted waters deserts and paths
Days and nights of faith, to a reward palliative
Where numbers tally blessings unimaginable
Acknowledging, the Christ, of abiding affirmative
SPONTANEITY © gillena cox 2016




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 #43, ❧✿❧ Christmas Season is over, yet, this is one for the road ❧✿❧ whats your mood today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites




Blog hopping at
Prompt Nights 2

168

cant remember where i got this image, had it in my files a long time


THE ISLAND
Blue as the zen of reflection
Sky mimics emeralds ocean
Ripples of dust as walls crumble
And new words like bricks tumble
Because now, everyone sees a tree
And another one, clear as can be
A person, an inhabitant hand waves
Waves to greetings of surprise
Shimmering on the waters, moonrise
This is the Island of Retirement
Banana fronds sway in contentment
As shadows settle in coolness
Ixora blossoms retain openness
THE ISLAND © gillena cox 2016


witten in response to Brendan's prompt
Sunday Mini-Challenge: Islands

Monday WRites 42

HAPPY NEW YEAR
Stop, count to four, for the corners of roundness
Pulling strands of a past, ebbed away in sparks
Shapes our globe to a calendar, rife with newness
Adventure, the toy of daring, store bought, sits
Steady now, sit still, for the corners of roundness
Fuzzy in parts, mists a den of caged breaths
Here hope and joy play dice to the tune of likeness
Like when no one knows where wheat field grow
Sing hearts sing, to guitar strings, plucked happiness
All things created of dirt, and water, to ripple light
A word spoken in echoes, for the corners of roundness
HAPPY NEW YEAR © gillena cox 2016




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 #42, ❧✿❧HAPPY NEW YEAR 2016❧✿❧❧✿❧ whats your mood today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites



Will link to
The Tuesday Platform open mic

166

image from google dot com


PERFECTION
thankfulness
processing the perfection
of human spirit
a new year dawns festive
blasts of firecrackers sound
© gillena cox 2016


Linked to Prompt Nights