"Ordinary life does not interest me. I seek only the high moments. I am in accord with the surrealists, searching for the marvelous." ~Anais Nin

27 July 2016

Poetry Wednesday #51

Evelyn Simak [CC BY-SA 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Three More Lunes

The myths of freedom
And romance
Forget poverty

Dreaming the wild,
The untamed, the constant movement–
Traveling the wind.

More is in this world
Than we know
We imagine dearth.

20 July 2016

Poetry Wednesday #50

湖南张家界国家森林公园 By chensiyuan [GFDL or CC BY-SA 4.0-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0], via Wikimedia Commons


At the height of summer I wish for the cool of mountains,
The deep shade of forests, and the wind that whispers through.
I want a life among the fingers of the earth,
A cottage shadowed by woodland canopy,
And the quiet cacophony of nature at dawn.
I want to breathe the oxygen-rich air with you,
And lounge in bed 'til noon's well past.
We'd eat fruit and laughter with equal avidity,
And need only each other for companionship.

13 July 2016

Poetry Wednesday #49

I found this photo on a Pinterest board.
The outfit is sold on Etsy.

Woman, 3 of many

She always wanted to travel against the status quo, and walk on paths less beaten,
But she was met with a resounding "No!" when she tried to dip her feet in.
In greater than ten thousand ways she was told she was worth zero—
For a girl is only good for lays and can never be a hero.
Her courage, once great and true and strong, could not stand against the constant pecking
And soon the disenchanted throng had her to do their becking.
By the time she'd grown she'd lost her joy, and her bravery, spirit, and brain.
All because she was not a boy, she lived her life in pain.

06 July 2016

Poetry Wednesday #48

By Jnn13 [CC BY-SA 3.0 or GFDL], via Wikimedia Commons

Independence Day, or thoughts on the 4th of July

We are the conquerors,
The conquered,
The slavers,
The enslaved,
The Privileged,
the poor.
We are the huddled masses,
and those who bar them from the door.
We range in color from the darkest browns
to palest pinks,
And our world is not colorblind.
We make up a nation that is less a melting pot,
and more a large tureen of stew
With the scraps thrown away—

The air tonight is thick with smoke,
Smelling an equal of gunpowder, barbecue, tobacco, and marijuana.
The pop! and BANG!
of celebratory bombs
Seems unending.
Someone tonight is going to lose a hand
Someone tonight is going to be shot by accident
Someone tonight is going to die
as even bullets obey the law of gravity
And being blasted into the air
by the careless and carefree
2nd Amendment loving
self-proclaimed "freedom fighters"
Or perhaps the simply drunken gun-owner
wishing to look badass in front of family and friends
Shoots his gun into the air
forgetting that the bullet must needs come down again.
It doesn't matter.
It won't come down on them,
But a block or two over,
An adjacent neighborhood,
Where they won't have to see the carnage.
Fireworks are pretty,
Barbecue is tasty,
And everyone feels a pinch of patriotic pride.
We celebrate.
And don't think of the consequences.