….why paisley???

photo by: me 5/12/2008

i hung a hummingbird feeder
right outside my window
from here i can watch
as the one hummingbird
i have come to call “rupee”
guards it.
he hides in the branches
of the tulip tree
and when any other hummingbirds approach it
he swoops in and drives them away..
in its sweet syrupy confection,,
he is rich
but at the same time he is starving..
his entire existence has become a war
waged, as much against himself
as those that seek to share it with him-
as in his drive to control
that which has been so freely given to him
he has been made to sacrifice
his ability to partake in the glory of its sweetness..
in the end
he may very well percieve
himself the victor..
but i will know,
that he died
without ever having tasted
the true sweetness
of this simple gift of love…

this is a photo of one of the outbuildings, on the property, commonly referred to as “uncle alvin’s cabin”.. it is called uncle alvin’s cabin,, in gracious memory of ben’s uncle alvin,, who not only built it, but lived out his days nestled away, in her sturdy redwood embrace….

photo of “uncle alvin’s cabin”, taken by me 5/9/2008

the bright red paint
of her glory days
embedded deep
in her fine redwood
has been bourne away
with the breath of age
in a well worn spot or two

her floors and roof
have long since seen
their last, loving repair
but neither termites feast
nor natures tongue
can consume the
tales she has yet to tell

with outstretched arms
she draws me in
her breast warm
with long dead souls
as with labored breath
she resurrects,, all those
nurtured in her womb

and on many a
sultry summer day
as she sits alone
in the afternoon sun
she silently inscribes
the scrolls of her heart
with my life,, as we watch it unfold

this post is courtesy of three word wednesday

there is a back story to this,, and the poem may not mean anything unless you know what that back story is,, and why the things i have seen,, are weighing so heavily on my mind as the date june, 20th draws ever closer… and no.. i haven’t told anyone but you…..

if you would like to view the story behind this you may read the back story, here: (mis)information …

maybe june 20th
will come and go-
without incident.
maybe no one will die
or be seriously injured
and i will never have to feel
like i should have said something
maybe,, it was a dream…
maybe, i am not
a human portal after all..
maybe i cannot see the things
i think i have seen,
and i am being overly cautious.
for no reason at all…

but maybe,,
just maybe…
i will be right again….

photo:

http://fc01.deviantart.com/images3/i/2004/166/f/5/Fear.jpg

seeing as how i have a built in aversion to anything sci-fi,, i had to take the prompt for read write poem in a bit of a different direction this week…..

twas me mother who told it
and she wouldn’t lie
she would rather cut out
her heart - or an eye
than spread the non truth
and so i decree
i me-self,, am the spawn
of the screamin’ banshee!!!

as me sweet mother told it
twas a quiet,, dark night
the candles was lit
and the fire was bright
they was havin’ a sip
of the irish whiskey,
when outta the mist
come the screamin’ banshee!

they heard her a comin’
but no one did run
as they was tippin’ a bit
and havin’ great fun
and no one was about to
abandon the bottle
yet there she was-
comin’ at ‘em full throttle!!!!

the menfolk they coward
behind the women’s full skirts
not a brass ball among ‘em
the no good irish flirts
and as she approached
it became clear to see
she had a wee babe in her arms…
and that wee babe was me!!!!

“quit your whinin’ ye wankers
you’ve nothin’ to fear
i am here to give, and not take
you got lucky this year!
i can’t find a sitter
me old mans on a drunk
and there’s no one to mind
this, my wee little punk!!”

then she handed me off
and she fled into the wood
not screamin’ at all
rather laughin’,, but good!!!
they stood there all quite
each not quite believin’
the rare piece of luck
they’d been blessed with this ev’nin

that luck gave out quick
it went straight to ye midden
as they lifted the blanket
to see what they’d been given
twas the face of an angel
all pink skinned and red haired
” a little piece of irish heaven!!”
me auntie rosie declared…

and just at that moment
for no reason at all
me face wrinkled up
and i started to bawl
and let out a scream
heard from here to the sea
and erased any doubt
as me own sweet mother will tell ye-

that i am the spawn of the screamin’ banshee!!

photo:

http://plim-chan.deviantart.com/art/The-scream-64789938

i called her today.. i called her because i wanted to tell her how much i loved her,,
how much she means to me.. how she had once been the very center of my world…
and no one had ever been able to take her place…

but instead we talked about the weather,, and her class reunion
and the way that age had of making things that once seemed all important
bleed and fade like the ink on the unpreserved page….

i called her today,, i wanted to remind her that she was my first love
that i had never loved anyone as much as i loved her,,
that it was her love that had made all other loves possible..
and against which they would all forever be judged

but instead i told her about the the poem i had written,, and the book i think i may well never finish,,
we talked about the garden and the dogs and the man who said he would come to cut the grass,,
but never did…

i called her today my heart so full of love,, my mind overflowing with memories
of the times we spent in each others arms,, the tender goodnight kisses,, the loving glances
that stripped me of my insecurities and made me feel as if i could conquer the world….

but instead i told her that i would talk to her later,, as this long distance was costing me a fortune…..
and anyway,, i should be feeding the cat,, and getting the dogs in for dinner,, or folding the clothes
that finished drying an hour or so ago….

i called her today,, with every intention of making today the day i told her
all the things that have been weighing so heavily on my heart,,
all the things i have wanted to say for so long but had never garnered the courage to do so,,
all the things i don’t want either of us to ever leave this world without me having said…

but instead i waited until after we had said our good byes,, and added,, almost as an after thought,, “mama… i love you…”

photo:

http://fc07.deviantart.com/fs7/i/2005/203/8/5/a_phone____by_Gazo.jpg

this is a combination of the words found on 3ww, easystreet prompts and two for tuesdays…..

predestinations paradox
generic spawn of egg and seed
the empty essence of vanilla
spoon fed domesticity…
submissive scions through out history
sired to propagate the breed-
lessons learned and loves extracted
deviation, all but foreseen…

insurgent adolescence
hormones screaming freedoms name
the road less traveled
becomes a highway
paved, in smoldering apron strings..
enter a generation of inebriates
drunk,, on youths immortal wine
navigating life, under the influence-
all destinations, lost in time…

yet when the propencity toward age
has dulled the appitite for indulgence,
and even the stolen dew of youth,
has lost it’s glow…
when intoxication, can no longer lessen,,
that which is not willing to be ignored..
even the road less traveled
can circle around, and bring you home….

photo:

http://kayceeus.deviantart.com/art/Coming-Home-29748837

this is loosely based on poefusions challenge to write in a form called via negativa.… the subject matter is comprised of my thoughts as i read a post entitled,, without desire,, by tom,, over at fallen verses….

i have been given to think,,
that love -
really doesn’t exist..
there is passion..
there is acceptance..
there is indifference…
and i think
what we have come to call love,,
is merely the mortar
that fills in the cracks,
strengthens the joints,
and smooths over
the rough spots
on the journey
between the three…

photo:

http://fc03.deviantart.com/fs8/i/2005/363/7/5/Heat_Shine_by_DonCox.jpg

prompt courtesy of writers island

painting: nanda by: rick mobbs

i used to believe, that i would find him..
the other half of me. the man, that would
fill in all the blanks.. that would make me feel,
complete.. that would take all the little broken pieces
of me,, and mix them with all the little fragments
of himself,, and together,, we would finally
be whole…

i used to believe that he and i, would
know each other, at first glance.. that we would
be on fire, in each others arms. that we would
know each others thoughts, and complete
each others sentances,, and we would instinctively
understand each others intermost fears,
and longings, and desires.. without ever having
to say a word…

i used to think that there was nothing
that could take that man from me,, but death-
once i found him.. that i would love him forever,,
and he me,, and we would walk off into the light
holding each others hand,, or calling out
each others name,, had one, or the other,
gone before…

and for a short time in this life,, i truly believed,
that i had found him.. the man that i would love
till the end of time. that i would be willing to
sacrifice, everything for…. the man, i would give,,
my life for..

and tho i proved time and time again
that i was willing to sacrifice, everything-
all that i had,, to have him, to hold him,
to love him, to call him mine,, in the end,,
i was unwilling to give my life.. and now sometimes,,
i wish that i had not been so selfish.. i wish i
had not thought more of myself than i
was worthy of..

i wish i had not allowed my desire
to be something we could never be together
(and that i never became on my own)
lure me away,, keep me from following thru,
on my vow to love him,, to be there for him,,
to never leave him,, to complete him,, as he,
completed me..

as had i.. had i done just that,, i would not
be sitting here knowing that i will never again-
be whole.. that i will never again feel complete..
that i will never again, know what it feels like
to love,, with my whole mind, and body, and soul..
…and being alive,, without those things,,
is meaningless…

please check out intropolis’ poem entitled nanda,, which was inspired by the same painting…

courtesy of friday 5 at poefusion….

“aint no such thing
as the calm of the evenin’
an that quiet you hear
is a trick..”
as the words disappear
and the sirens set to screamin’
they splinter the silence
right quick..

on the corner, the new crop
the young ‘gits is slangin’
they dope or they bitches
or both..
as they mamas light votive’s
and pray their gods have forgiven
their freshly dead son’s
bloody oath..

as neighborhoods molder
under trash and addiction
punctuated by a bullets
loud pop..
we busy ourselves
with designer distractions
going green,, and how local
we shop….

photo:

http://mchasesteely.deviantart.com/art/Resident-of-the-3rd-Ward-2-61961954

as i reflected, yet again
on the picture of
unrest in the world today,,
i realized,,,
the source for all of our
most pressing concerns
can be summed up
in two words…

..money and pussy..

you may think me crude
for having
brought life down
to this,, its simplest form.
after all- we are intelligent,
civilized, human beings.
are we not??

we have evolved
far past the point where
monetary gratification
and carnal knowledge
are the root cause
(of all evil)
have we not??

stop and think about it
war
crime
abuse
hunger
disease
pollution

oversimplification??

perhaps… but
which of the above
is not the direct result of:
the lack of…
the desire for…
or the exploitation of…
either money or sex???

photo:

http://fc02.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/049/7/1/Sins_of_Greed___Wicked_Day_11_by_MicrophoneMistress.jpg