Tuesday, September 27, 2016

time-out

won't take a minute
sharpening my pencil
how vast is our sky

pencil shavings curl
into ribbons of craft
delicate as a butterfly's wing

craft a paper boat
on a rainy day
turn it upside down for a hat

day broods a blank notepad
urging it to speak
its name or sing its song
© gillena cox 2016

in the meantime; enjoy!!!

Paper Windmill Jigsaw PuzzlePaper Windmill Jigsaw Puzzle

Monday, September 26, 2016

Monday WRites 76


[image from google dot com]

SWAP
Ennui falls, thump! into my basket
Who will carry this leaden load
Or, swap gloom for roses
Grey of an overcast for whimsy and magic
Prana for sighs
Life for limbo
SWAP © 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 #76, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites ❧✿❧



verses


Saturday, September 24, 2016

289


[image courtesy yahoo dot com]

ANGELS BUSY GOSSIPING
Doused in fallen blossoms
Each sweep of broom
Tugs at heart cords,
No sound emits -
Not even sob of tears
Peeled from eyeballs
For this day of dried resolve
Some leaves are curled
In rigor, stayed to returning
Earth, hungry for humus
Compost heap earns -
Another timespan of reasoning
Growth becomes fertilizing
Denouement of new blossoms
Labeled to providence and cycles
ANGELS BUSY GOSSIPING © gillena cox 2016

“Believe me, every heart has its secret sorrows, which the world knows not, and oftentimes we call a man cold, when he is only sad.” – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Revisit
rusted sails threaten
they call him a crazy guy
behind his back...
FOLLOWING THE LEADER

He’s the madman, slicing off an ear,
Spoiling his metaphor,
Charts a sentence through the valley...
PROCESS SURREAL

Mouth-watering promise, thin, wafer like
Fleeting, yet satisfying, cloud like
Seemingly angelic words, emit light
Or light emitting words...
TASTE AND SEE


Blog hopping today at
Prompt Nights When shades of loss weave with pattern of madness [29]


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[my video choice of today - 'Continuando' by Jehro]

Thursday, September 22, 2016

288


[image from yahoo dot com]

FOLLOWING THE LEADER
Sancho this Sancho that
Who fights with windmills
Who does that

squark squark
a knight in shinning armour
scattering chickens

is he serious
is this any life for a grown man
thrusting spears

rusted sails threaten
they call him a crazy guy
behind his back

pah! on my trusty ass i
Sancho Panza follow him
FOLLOWING THE LEADER © gillena cox 2016


Sancho Panza quotes
[Sancho: Dying is such a waste of good health.

Sancho: They say one madman makes a hundred and love makes a thousand.
Aldonza: What does that mean?
Sancho: I'm not sure. ]


blog hopping today at
Sidekicks in the Spotlight
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
Rommy is prompting

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[my video choice of today]

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

287


[a pinterest image]

SPHERICAL IDEAS
Take thee half this day for sunshine,
Then be thee not overcast, as mirth steps forward,
For her envy of joy, is boundless.
SPHERICAL IDEAS © gillena cox 2016

Susan has prompted us to write a new poem for Midweek Motif on the theme Equinox, Equator


Where i am, there are only The Wet and The Dry Seasons, so the phenomenon of equinox, would mean more or less equal hours of sunlight and dark for us.

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Equinoxes
As the Earth moves around its orbit, it reaches two points during the year where the tilt of its axis causes it to be straight relative to the Sun. These days are known as equinoxes. During these equinoxes the rays of the Sun shine directly on the equator. This happens on approximately March 20th and September 22nd

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[my video choice today]

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

286


[image from google dot com]

IDENTITY
Inner feelings come to the fore
Destiny allows curve in the road
Eager to solve new mysteries to wit
Nose to fragrant roses, tears of thorns
Truth is the path called to walk
Introspection leads to prayerful faith
Toed to kindness gift of mercy
Yeah!! for motherhood joyfully blessed
IDENTITY © gillena cox 2016

Revisit
You open the window to grackle songs
The smooth gaze of velvet stings

You shut the cords of angels eyes...
OPEN AND SHUT SURGES


I sound my name, sound my name, sound my name
Again and again
But who cares for my worthless repeat...
WHAT'S IN A NAME


She wasn't about to let this moment pass, no way not this diva. See, she was a witch. She had the power, she had the panache...
DIVA WITCH


Written for Sanaa's prompt That which we seek; deep within will find – “IDENTITY” [9]


[my video choice for

Monday, September 19, 2016

Monday WRites 75


[image from google dot com]

SEPTEMBER MUSINGS
Through bars of engine roars, a tiny chirp;
The early breath of day, slowly haled within usurp;
Even more than a physical hunger have we,
Poets to sate the inner gnawings become thee;
Silent watchful ones in searching introspection,
Like flowers innately beautiful from creation;
A song sings of the dawn, to a sleep muted cloud;
Resonating in spurts of motor vehicles loud;
Autumn winds of the warm Atlantic storm,
As the season deepens becomes the norm;
The turbulent swing of terrorism too, remember;
As the flames of candle light outlive the ember;
Healing willed in life cycles, the loss and the pain;
Respect for life in peace to gain
Morning dew crafts a jewel on the leaf of life,
Promised to an end of strife;
Tease for an appetite of life anew;
But din of callous disrespects eschew,
A kind of man, a species he,
Determined not to live in harmony;
For to love, is to yield power unto another;
From a field vast and wide an in coming zephyr,
Tosses and tumbles from a soundless bundle,
Of experiences drafted like a Milky Way trundle,
Willed to the spirit of motion without rhythm;
Life without love, without yielding, without a lesser;
Without colour, without a poem, without a flower;
Motion, movement, sway, wind, debris
A musical score; engine roar and chirpy chirpy.
SEPTEMBER MUSINGS © 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 #75, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites ❧✿❧ Today i'm sharing an old poem This is a 2009 write. Those days i was not writing in response to prompts. I was at that time, just sitting down to write as my muse dictated. September Musings was first shared at PoemHunter dot com



verses




Blog hopping at the
Tuesday Platform
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Sunday, September 18, 2016

284


[image from yahoo dot com]

HALF N HALF
One of the old photos, fixed to the wood,
In my living room, it's stare is good,
Its aura is benign, it speaks of love,
I just smile and nod, cause i'll have none of
Its quiet verbose boast, in telling,
There is too much abstracting,
In its sublime stating,
I prefer what i've read of love;
Patient, kind, and responsible, that's love;
See why i smile,
And don't reply,
If he is my better half
Pity me! left, with the worst half
HALF N HALF © gillena cox 2016


Blog hopping today at
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
in response to Outlawyer's prompt
Following a Thread - Weekend MIni Challenge

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my video of choice today


Thursday, September 15, 2016

283


[image - cloud queen, from google dot com]

OF LADY DEATH - HER SONNET
She is, who knows the notes of feelings,
The crescendo of rising into an ether,
That wondrous lilthing defrocking,
Soaring into chorus of Allelulias above

She is, who knows the scent of joyous,
Colour of nebulos, and taste of arise
That flight sensous, sonorous magical
Redirecting into curtesy of applause

She is who knows the mystery of victory
The emblems of infinity in counted curves
That first step into belonging, becoming
Vanishing into distance of textured clouds

Lady death a visionary, a shadow of thoughts
To a book already written in a scribe's hand.
OF LADY DEATH - HER SONNET © gillena cox 2016


Blog hopping at
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
Written for Susie's prompt Bits Of Inspiration ~ If Death Were A Woman

Susie shared with us this excerpt from
If Death Were A Woman by Ellen Kort
I'd want her to come for me
smelling of cinnamon  wearing
bright cotton purple maybe  hot
pink a red bandana in her hair
She'd bring good coffee papaya juice
bouquet of sea grass  saltine crackers
and a lottery ticket  We'd dip
our fingers into moist pouches
of lady's slippers crouch down to see
how cabbages feel when wind bumps
against them in the garden


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[my video of choice today]

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

282


[Chivalry - image from google dot com]

PERCHANCE TO BE SWAYED
The quill dips, into chocolate covered wordiness,
Lightly, tracing breath on soft furls of mist,
And a kiss sprouts to bloom in morning sunshine

How did this spell mutter itself into daisy petals
Plucked, incensing he loves me, or not
A drizzle of inexorable sighs, lubricates awareness,
Where trust, appreciates the worth of weaving love
Into tantrums of giving wrapped in ribbons silver

A pendant adorns the sky by night, dangling stars,
Myriads of sparkling spectrums, wishing genuflections,
Knees bent, knights to princesses swooning hoops.
PERCHANCE TO BE SWAYED © gillena cox 2016


Blog hopping today at
in response toMidweek Motif ~ Appreciation

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[my video choice of today]

Monday, September 12, 2016

281


[dove from yahoo.com image search]

PRECIOUS GIFT
I read of a beloved son,
Who, so pleased his father,
In the flight of a dove,
Heaven thus, blessed the world;
In word, deed, in spirit.
Today and tomorrow his love
Stays, as of yesterday.
But;
We must claim this gift,
Let us then unwrap it.
PRECIOUS GIFT © gillena cox 2016

Written for and linking to
Sunday Mini-Challenge: Charms
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Monday Writes 74



MORE WINE
They had heard about him,
Those days, who hadn't,
Small town talk, everyone knew,
So there he was,
At the wedding party,
And the wine ran out.

Just like nowadays, no different,
With every strike of terrorism,
Every nail of unkindness,
Scourge of misunderstanding,
Sword of greed out of its scabbard
Our wine of hope runs out.

So his mother, a woman - wise and blessed,
She said
Do whatever he tells you
This puzzled them,
However, alarmed, and confused,
They did,
And the wine flowed.

On reflection, perhaps,
We may still drink of that wine,
Of wedding bliss, of joy,
In celebrating another's happiness,
And in turn making ourselves happy.

Hmmm,
Do whatever he tells you
She said
MORE WINE © 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 #74, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites



verses




Blog hopping at the
Tuesday Platform
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

AND


Prompt Nights
– To travel is to take a journey into Yourself – [28]

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“I soon realized that no journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within.”  – Lillian Smith

Saturday, September 10, 2016

279


['Purple Unicorn wallpaper from yahoo dot com]

EMBERS EVER PRESENT EVER SUSTAINED
consumed by ragged reds,
oval oranges from sloping arcs,
under bridges purple in rainbow
gardens; let me paint you
a moon, slyly hidden
in the shadows of night,
where dreams are unicorns -
jeweled of every
carved stone, burnished
to an easel, etched in
the soul of a syllable
sight
vision
ardor
transporting rhythms of light
EMBERS EVER PRESENT EVER SUSTAINED © gillena cox 2016


Blog hopping today at
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
Out of Standard Fire from a Different Sun


[my video choice for today]

Monday, September 5, 2016

Monday WRites 73


[image from google dot com]

GROCERY QUESTIONS AND SMILES
Fruit and vegetables, plastic wrappings,
Pointy fingers of ochroes,
Bulbous curved cloves of garlic,
Bags of apples from trees overseas,
And the lane goes on, in listing choices

Cans of tuna, mackerel too,
Tomato soup, and garbanzo beans,
I'm stocking all this with awe;
Some with wonder too;
Then shes asks - the lady,
A stranger to me

Excuse me; What is a garbanzo?
So i smiled, and answered
"We call them channa
Some folks say chick pea too."
GROCERY QUESTIONS AND SMILES © gillena cox 2016

❧✿❧

Glossary
Channa - chick pea garbanzo bean; here in Trinidad, it is used as a filling in one of our street foods called doubles





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 #73, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites



verses



Blog hopping today at

Prompt Nights – We tend to smile in the exact same language – [27]
❧✿❧
“What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. These are but trifles, to be sure; but scattered along life’s pathway, the good they do is inconceivable.” – Joseph Addison

AND

The Tuesday Platform
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads


Sunday, September 4, 2016

277


RHYTHMS IN ZEPHYR
To my space in the garden,
I assign my chair, to watch
The breeze play the puppet master
As i sit in my prescribed seat,
I envy her charm, she can
Choreograph, with swan-like grace
If she so wills,
Or if she so wills, with firey tang
Of the flamenco,
She's gentle today, bordering zephyr.
RHYTHMS IN ZEPHYR © gillena cox 2016


Blog hopping today at
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
Flash 55 PLUS!
+++++++++
[my video of choice today: Trinidadian panist Andy Narell - we kinda music]

Thursday, September 1, 2016

276


[image from google dot com]

MEDITATION TAUS
mesmerizing mosaics
milling around in minuscule
mobiles
music so magnetic
making mind's eye mandate
a mantra
a matrix
a meandering of spirit
MEDITATION TAUS © gillena cox



[image courtesy The imaginary garden]


Blog hopping today at
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
Artistic Interpretations with Margaret
- The Met's Musical Instruments Exhibit


[my video choice today, featured at The imaginary garden]