29 Friday Dec 2017
Posted in Flash Poesy, Uncategorized
Tags
damaged, endurance, experience, Flash Poesy, flaws, human, imperfections, learning, mediocre, strengths, vulnerability, weaknesses, wishes
Wishes
I wish I were taller
wish I were stronger
but I’m not
sometimes I lack the strength
mediocre, vulnerable, and weak
I rise from the shards of my psyche
damaged, cracked and chipped along the edges
but not defeated, yet-
only human,
with my imperfections.
21 Thursday Dec 2017
Posted in Flash Poesy, Uncategorized
Tags
awareness, Flash Poesy, new year, oneness, poetry, pomegranate tree, prosperity, Season's Greetings
Something from the past!
The Pomegranate Tree
The crimson blossoms of
the pomegranate tree in springtime,
turn into magical red globes during summer,
giving us ample fruit with sparkling ruby seeds inside.
A treasure within a treasure,
a chest within a chest,
one that contains many,
each seed from the heavens,
a sacred gift of Mother Nature,
heralding prosperity, nourishment, and health.
Let’s tie many coloured ribbons on the tree of plenty
and make wishes for happiness, peace and oneness.
Although Saint Nicholas has his home in these lands,
he’s busy carrying gifts to other children around the world,
but will be here on the 31st to celebrate
New Year’s Eve.
Let’s hope our tree will attract
the birds and creatures upon Gaia and
when the gathering is complete,
with a full audience,
we’ll crack the pomegranates on the ground,
spreading prosperity around the globe,
to all the children and people of the world.
22 Sunday Oct 2017
Posted in Flash Poesy, Uncategorized
Tags
art, bar, Can Can, Dance, Dress, Flash Poesy, La Belle Epoque, music, Paris, time-travel
Something from the past as I’m editing, re-editing, revising my stories …
The theme of the dinner party was La Belle Époque,
In the vintage shop, I found a dress befitting Jane Avril.
Took it home, put it on a hanger and began imagining…
The urge was great, so I slipped into it.
The lights dimmed for a moment and
I was transported to a busy bar in Paris.
Champagne flowing, cigarette smoke hanging in the air,
as the pianist accompanied the sad song the soloist sang.
Toulouse came to say “Bonne soirée, ma chérie”,
but my eye was on the young Picasso, surrounded by alluring ladies.
Hiding in the corner with Zola was Pierre Currie,
having left Marie at the laboratory with her radiation tests.
Lumiére was looking up and down my gown,
to decide on my next role in his film,
as Picasso approached and bought me drink.
Moulin Rouge, he said, or Casino de Paris or maybe even La Tour…
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