O, That Moon!

I wake, wide awake.
Everything black and white:
Night, moon, clouds, night, moon...  ~Marion

Late October by Dorianne Laux

A butterfly's delight

Godlight...

I am this woman, have been this woman, will probably always be this woman...thankfully.  My favorite October poem.  I haven't posted it in two years, so enjoy! xo


Late October
By Dorianne Laux

Midnight.  The cats under the open window,
their guttural, territorial yowls.

Crouched in the neighbor's driveway with a broom,
I jab at them with the bristle end,

chasing their raised tails as they scramble
from bush to bush, intent on killing each other.

I shout and kick until they finally
give it up; one shimmies beneath the fence,

the other under a car.  I stand in my underwear
in the trembling quiet, remembering my dream.

Something had been stolen from me, valueless
and irreplaceable.  Grease and grass blades

were stuck to the bottoms of my feet.
I was shaking and sweating.  I had wanted

to kill them.  The moon was a white dinner plate
broken exactly in half.  I saw myself as I was:

forty-one years old, standing on a slab
of cold concrete, a broom handle slipping

from my hands, my breasts bare, my hair
on end, afraid of what I might do next.

From:  "What We Carry", page 11

-------------------------------------------------

Nothing [everything] left to say, the poem says it all.  ~Marion

Psalms: Carnegie Hall Rush Seats by Mary Karr

By:  Katerina Evgenieva

X.  Psalms:  Carnegie Hall Rush Seats

By Mary Karr, from:  Tropic of Squalor", page 54

Whatever else the orchestra says,
the cello insists, You’re dying.
It speaks from the core

of the tree’s hacked-out heart,
shaped and smoothed like a woman.
Be glad you are not hard wood

yourself and can hear it.
Every day the cello is taken
into someone’s arms, taken between

spread legs and lured into
its shivering. The arm saws and
saws and all the sacred cries of saints

and demons issue from the carved cleft holes.
Like all of us, it aches, sending up moans
from the pit we balance on the edge of.

Lodged by Robert Frost

For my many fellow chronic pain sufferers out there...

.

Perspective, loves... Hold on for dear life...

A rare photo of moi, Princess Dragonfly...

Pain makes me NOT want to move...

Dying Dinner Plate Hibiscus...

~×~×~×~×~

Lodged by Robert Frost

The rain to the wind said,
'You push and I'll pelt.'
They so smote the garden bed
that the flowers actually knelt,
and lay lodged--though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.

Be Inspiration

My Moon; My Sky

Be Inspiration
Every stick and leaf speaks:
I give you the sky.   ~Marion

.

My clouds, my trees, my sky.

inspiration

 noun

in·spi·ra·tion | \ˌin(t)-spə-ˈrā-shən,  -(ˌ)spi-\

Definition of inspiration 

1a: a divine influence or action on a person believed to qualify him or her to receive and communicate sacred revelation

b: the action or power of moving the intellect or emotions

c: the act of influencing or suggesting opinions

2: the act of drawing inspecifically : the drawing of air into the lungs

3a: the quality or state of being inspired

b: something that is inspireda scheme that was pure inspiration

4: an inspiring agent or influence

Senescence

Senescence

Crocodiles never
die?  They could live forever---
We are predators.

~Marion

Let Your Freak Flags Fly!

 My Zooey & Zibby Blythe dolls dressed as "Wednesday" from Adam's Family.

First sign of Autumn:  rust-colored Cypress trees.  Letting my freak flags fly.

Cat fam:  Boots, Debbie & Garfield.

Autumn Haiku

Autumn leaves falling

Mindlessly free, letting go.

Blackbirds caw:  seasons...