Image/ Klaus Enrique Gerdes
MANY THANKS to Tess...at...Magpie Tales.
PLENTY
I am the I am,
a plentiful god
whose blood may flow
in the vein of a peach.
A green apple
splits within me,
beats like the heart of Eve.
I'm on the bee's journey,
adrift on air,
gathering honey
to drip from my lips.
Spit out the stone
that plants itself
within you
like an evil eye,
know yourself
to be a bouquet of spirit.
Do you want to be me?
You are.
Copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2012
http://www.minblu.blogspot.com
http://twitter.com/lynxny
HOUSE AT DUSK/ 1935/ Edward Hopper
THANKS TO TESS at Magpie Tales....
RENTERS
Shades are pulled up
to welcome the night.
Birds flutter
against the glass,
but halt,
seeing a cage
I prepared long ago.
Telltale hearts
are beating next door,
dancers in the dusk
inhale each others breath,
ice cubes melt in amber,
other callers
with hungry voices
plead, "Do it again".
Put the money on the dresser, hon.
See you next month.
By the way,
how are your kids?
Really?
Time flies.
Copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2012
http://www.minblu.blogspot.com
http://twitter.com/lynxny
The Circus With Yellow Clown/ 1967/ Marc Chagall
THANKS TO TESS, at Magpie Tales. Another intriguing challenge!
THE MIDNIGHT CLOWN
I did it well,
play the fool
in your wit's grasp,
mistook that pale aura
for gold.
Just because
you had a winning grin,
I assumed tender roots
entwined your heart.
But even children fear
the midnight clown,
pinch their eyes shut,
against the wicked jig
that sways a hip.
Not honey on the tongue
but gritty sand.
You prance,
come dance with me,
let's have some fun.
copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2012
http://www.minblu.blogspot.com
http://twitter/lynxny
The Meal/ 1891/ Paul Gauguin
Thank you Tess, for this tasty Magpie Tales....
RECIPE/ Enchiladas For Lunch
Chop an onion,
let the tears flow,
place the cilantro to the side.
I mean garlic,
when I say garlic,
let it perform
its breathless way.
Shake that Salsa Verde
as if you're doing the cha-cha.
Then tear a chicken
to smithereens,
but first let it cool its bones.
Roll that tortilla
over and back,
stuff it
with the kitchen sink.
Fill it chock full,
of red chili flakes,
kiss that chicken good-bye,
then top it all
with a gooey queso,
make sure that
it's very fresco.
Turn the heat to soaring.
Lick a lime,
it could be your last.
Let the devil
pass the pizzazz.
copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2012
http://www.minblu.blogspot.com
http://www.twitter/lynxny
River Irwell/ R.A.D. Stainforth
Lovely river...thank you Tess for the inspiration...Magpie Tales...
AFLOAT
Ashes, spilled last week,
float by,
recalling some one's grief.
In those shadows
along the green shore,
a breath of darkness,
the black wind itself,
pushes a wave to break
and wash me downstream.
A ripple fondles your skin.
I lick blue points of chill
from your arms,
and choose to float
within your shell,
a model Venus
rising in your river,
waiting to be buoyant.
copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2012
http://www.minblu.blogspot.com
http://www.twitter/lynxny
Image/ Alex Stoddard
ACTING OUT
It didn't make any difference to me what the image would be. I knew that I was going to write this anyway. I had my own prompt to deal with. Fate and synchronicity dance along their own paths, and wasn't I the foolish one to forget about the doppelganger who tiptoes through my life.
A concussion is an odd circumstance. It doesn't necessarily show up on a Cat Scan. Because I couldn't really be trusted to remember details, I was handed a sheet of pink paper when I was dismissed from the hospital, that listed symptoms that would ring a bell if I had a concussion.
Ding-a-ling...nausea, blurring of vision, vertigo, forgetfulness, pain in head,(as opposed to just plain headache). And so sleepy...Bingo!
Okay...let's go back a bit. I fell out of bed and got a severe injury. Well, not exactly fell, this sleepwalker must have been running from something monstrous, or perhaps running to open a door to...what?
The physical world disowned my somnambulistic mind. The physical world bruised both knees, my right elbow, my forehead, and slammed my right temple and cheekbone, (still nips a bit when I chomp down).
It was a terrible pain, and Milo, the cat, joined me in crying. I had the presence of mind to gather my stuff, call for an ambulance and get admitted to the hospital at 1:00 AM.
Cat scan and pink slip allowed me to go home at 6:00 AM. Five days later I went back to emergency when the world was still tipping at a weird angle. Another Cat Scan, and my descriptive powers proved that I had a concussion. They emphasized that I not do anything strenuous. Cancelled my high wire act. Doing things like molasses now. Plan to be my old self again. Will I never learn?
And now Tess presents this picture for Magpie Tales. Just the state I've been living in for the last 2 weeks. Why am I surprised by this coincidence?
copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2012
http://www.minblu.blogspot.com
http://www.twitter/lynxny
Egg Island/ by djajakarta
THANKS, TESS, for Magpie Tales......
BREAK a L'EGG
Once I was a hatchling,
dreaming to be
a tuffetted
Miss Muffet,
with golden curls
dripping down my bosom,
like Rose Red's blood,
so now again
comes
an opening for enchantment.
All fall down,
Jack tumbles
and I come after,
running from the sweep
of a goosey Mother,
striving to move up
to fairy tale importance.
A brocaded prince
did bite my drowsy lips,
frozen in dew a hundred years.
Dwarfs and elves
had closet desires
and lived
on Mother's gatherings.
What good is magic
if it doesn't go
beyond mortal dreams?
copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2012
http://www.minblu.blogspot.com
http://twitter.com/lynxny
Image/ ParkeHarrison
BACK FROM around the world in 8 days...glad to slide into MAGPIE TALES once again!
TURNAROUND
I will pull my feathers closer,
as if not yet born.
Enough of seeing and thinking,
hard edges and snake bites
and every sound a thud.
No tunnels of illumination
that lead me to heaven.
My tongue hovers for a moment,
hoping to impress with my lexicon.
Only breath leaves,
then takes wing to a dark nether.
No clemency,
so I choose turnaround.
Perfect primal architecture,
seal me back in,
nestle me on a cutting edge.
Over easy.
Copyright/all rights reserved/ 2012
http://www.minblu.blogspot.com
http://twitter.com/lynxny
Image/ Robert and Shana ParkeHarrison
THANK YOU, Tess, for Magpie #109, at Magpie Tales.
THE KEEPER
The world,
not
what
you think, (maybe)
swept under the cover
of cheap goods.
A couple of gears,
a twist to tighten,
another year goes by,
and all that vanity,
a birthright?
The preening,
imagining
that one is a leader,
one is a slave.
Wait.
Surprised, won't you be,
to see a musical comedy,
fa la la,
when you awaken.
These are the jokes, folks,
and God roiling
with a belly laugh as usual.
What about me,
Sisyphus kid brother,
your daily double,
pushing aside the tarp,
turning the screw once more?
What about me,
bad back and all?
Bloody hell!
copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2012
http://www.minblu.blogspot.com
http://twitter.com/lynxny
Image/ Uzengia Aleksander Nedic
THANK YOU, TESS, for Magpie Tales, #108.
LIGHT
And then I died and went to heaven,
turned back,
to come back?
A girl again,
lost in the surprise of death,
I saw the murky place
over my left shoulder,
the world of languish.
Or would I rise
to be tickled
by the light of angels
wrapped in flutter?
Prayers in my heart
float up like butterflies.
Sound is color,
words are music.
Soul writes itself,
bounces off a temple bell,
flirts with Gods and Goddesses,
a code deciphered at last.
So life's a chrysalis after all,
give me your hand,
be a fool no longer,
take the gift, fly.
copyright/all rights reserved/ 2012
http://www.minblu.blogspot.com
http://www.twitter.com//lynxny
