Blog

I am very excited to learn that my essay, My Uncle the Fisherman has been accepted for publication in The Bangalore Review! Unknown publishing date at this time. Whoo hoo!

It’s right here in The Dummies 101.0 Book of Raising Humans! I have read this so many times, I can quote it backwards. Not only that, I have taught it in the herd’s puppy-school class every Sunday for the past nine years!

Look, come here and I’ll prove it to you. See, it’s even within the ten paw-prints laid out on the inside front cover, this is how we control them.

“Choose the most foul, corrupt, immoral, unintelligent, evil human among them and make him their leader and they will all fall.”

You see Princess, all we have to do is wait, and it really will be a dog’s world!

And so it begins
the third and final
reign of terror
the ultimate battle
between good and evil

Civil rights revoked
against the non-majorities
False charges against
accused aliens
not of this country

Assignations with past mortal enemies
assassination’s of those who do not agree
and those who do not adhere
massive open graves and falsified reports

Destruction of earth
for money and power
destruction of society
allowing their will to conquer freedom

The most evil has risen
exalted there by the most evil among us
by the hopeful poor swayed
by promises of wealth and health

By the less than common man
corrupted by the brash speech
and unfiltered tongue of the
vile creature soon to be called president

Women who should have been most afraid
voting for a user, an abuser and adulterer
with no other reason except he might change
or he will make change or girls like bad boys

Abusers never change
maliciousness never dissipates
Vulgarity can not be stemmed
and evil is evil – the beast has been freed

Ravaged by indistinguishable masks
misunderstood meanings tangled
within a weave of sighs and untruths
leaving ashes to soak in tears on the floor

Fire burns skin to blue
a soul to emerge and flip
into the timeless void
happiness permeates the grief

Sorrow to joy
anger to love
pain to relief
agony to ecstasy

In a realm ghoulish and cold
dead witches of old
wait all year for this night

An eve when wicked tricks
they weave from within their crypt
to cast a spell into the wind

They spin it and twist it
then wrap it around
all witches buried underground

As one they all rise on broomsticks as one
seeking the innocent
to wreck Halloween Fun!

Masts that stretch into the sky
reaching heavenward
to catch the sea’s breeze
and fly

Motors idle warming up
diesel’s fume and gasoline burns
searching through oceans depths
for shrimp pink and plump

Mother Nature tempts the sailor man
with morsels and tidbits
found neath her skirts
left there by her nurturing hand

Mud slides and great tsunami’s
does she wield
when her children mistreat
and go against her policies

Madness reigns upon her surface
man against man
and man against woman
to control her uterus

Mothers and daughters
forced to choose sides
fathers resigned
to worship green fodder

Morning arises in full glory
landscape littered
with leaves of the fallen
Mother Nature ends another story

Why must I always be different,
from everyone around me?
A Green Witch in Spring,
tending my garden loves.

A Siren in Summer,
swimming from shore to shore.
Fall brings Mabon to the woods,
I am the Autumn Equinox.

The fierce winds of Winter whirl,
My breath blows as Cailleach Bheur.
Although harsh and sometimes haggard,
I hold new life beneath the frozen stone.

To be a regular girl in life,
no omens portending an ominous sign,
No witchcraft to aid the metamorphosis of life,
but then I could not fly a circle in the sky.

In response to Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge – Mainly Orange
Posted by Sue W – nansfarm.net  
and Gerry C – themainaisle.com

I can not help it
I can only see
A great orange pumpkin
when he speaks on tv

His head is topped
with a rug dyed pumpkin orange
His skin it’s tinted to match
as if he’s had the scourge

Just like the one carved for treats
his pumpkin head you see
it’s very empty and quite void
A pumpkin king is he

The same as that big holiday fruit
his mouth is wide
his eyes are blank
there’s nothing left inside

He speaks with mindless thought
of course to what he’s going to say
words of nonsense spill on out
Not a single thought does he convey

Watch out for scary pumpkin heads
especially when they gain in power
When Halloween’s gone and he’s installed
our country he will devour!

My piece titled “A Shadow” has been accepted for publication in the “Ghost Echoes and Shadows Anthology,” published by Local Gems Press! The publication may be preordered here:

Thank you Local Gems Press for your continued support!!

In response to Bartholomew Barker’s, Living Poetry Monday Poetry Prompt – Silhouette

The woman in that silhouette,
that is certainly, definitely not me.
I can stand straight and tall,
that woman’s stance is stooped and small.

That wooden cane she wields there,
does not belong to me at all.
My daily exercise keeps my curves just fine,
that pudgy shape there, is definitely not mine.

It seems that she is wracked with age,
her gate is slow and filled with pain.
Her hair is short and curled so tight,
my hair is long and shines quite bright.

The shoes on her feet are flat and demure,
on my feet, only cowboy boots will do.
She totters along, her feet a mere scuffle,
I love to dance to old Cupid’s Shuffle.

The woman in that silhouette,
that is certainly, definitely not me.
I look away from the image,
that is lying to me.