Day 21
Screaming into the wind
screaming into the wind
the sailing boats
carried our ancestors
in chains from afar
a recalcitrant lot
not deferential
irreverent
known for giving their betters
the aussie salute
the legacy still lingers
Day 22
broken pieces
the japanese
fill the cracks with gold
to restore broken bowls
kintsugi
the recyclists
use discarded beer and wine bottles
to make beautiful windows
kashikoi
Day 23
Fur Babies
an endless source of comfort
affection and squidgy cuddles
marmalade boy purrs loudly like a steam engine
sprawled out diagonally across the queen size bed
dreaming of fresh salmon and shrimp
oblivious to the fact that lady bountiful
provider of his lavish sybaritic life style
panderer to his every whim
is unable to get into her own bed
Day 24
BREATHING
her passion was as important
as breathing to her
she spent years of hard work
dedicated to achieving her goal
thought of nothing else
it was at the forefront of her existence
the idea
of not continuing
of giving up her dream
was unthinkable
she came so close
to getting what she wanted
she faltered briefly
that's all it took
she lost everything
she didn't die
it just felt that way for a while
she still keeps on breathing
Day 25
White
Cinquain
snow white
has a wild side
not all sweetness and light
hanging out with the 7 dwarves
bad move
Day 26
What has been unspoken
what has been unspoken
between us will remain so
it serves no purpose to speak now
after so long a silence
time to go our separate ways
time to let go
A piece of history speaks in those lines.
ReplyDeleteLoved this poem. I nearly wrote today's post about the Rajah Quilt. Instead, here's your poem with that classic, 'in your face' drawing of the women at Cascades, which, I think, historians deny ever happening. One of my novels, Years of Stone, is set in 1840's Tasmania, and I felt as if I lived then.
ReplyDeleteOoooo ...would like to read that one. I have not been to Tasmania since I was a child but I still remember it, particulary Port Arthur. I think the historians could be right ...it would be an unlikely scenario that all the women prisoners would bare arse to the vicar but it's a nice thought though:)
ReplyDeleteThank you. My research about the women at Cascades suggests this story is more wish than reality. But the women at Cascades were rebellious. Here's the link to Amazon in Australia for Years of Stone -- or I could send you a review copy! Best, Beth
Deletehttps://www.amazon.com.au/Years-Stone-Book-McDonnell-Clan-ebook/dp/B00LF3FY4S or bluebethley@yahoo.com
Day-22 Loved your two short poems :)
ReplyDeleteWish I could fill my "broken pieces" with Gold. That would surely be a whole new improvement
ReplyDeleteAww...your fur baby is so cute. Yes, one has to make space for them :)
ReplyDeleteVery nice. Yes, they are bed hogs.
ReplyDeleteI AM NOT buying a king size bed. Marmalade boy has to understand that a lot of humans have to manage with a Q S bed and keep to their side:)
DeleteHe is so adorable! 😍
ReplyDeleteOh my, I really relate to the piece for today (October 24th.) Now, I never entirely gave up my dream of working in literature or the arts in some capacity, but there was a lot of pain and disappointment in getting to where I am now, and it left internal scars.
ReplyDeleteIndeed! Despite all the hard knocks, we keep breathing.
ReplyDeleteOh, your Snow White poem made me think about one I wrote called Snorting Beauty. She sure let her hair hang down in that one :)
ReplyDeleteGreat reading, all of them.
I liked the twist of snow white !!
ReplyDeleteOr was it? 😉
ReplyDeleteBreathing though our broken pieces can be challenging. Love what you're doing here.
ReplyDeleteI really dig the Aussie salute. :)
Time to LET IT GO....Indeed!
ReplyDeleteYes, let it go.
ReplyDeleteThat picture of the beach with its scrawled message in the sand . . . and your poem, is a beautifully balanced reminder to embrace nature and let go when it's time.
ReplyDelete