Frustration and a Talking Tale

Another selection from my teenage journal.

Frustration

Frustration looked down the path with eyes of anxious fire. She, like the muskrat, embedded herself into the ground. A grin of one-hundred teeth repulsively staring. Her scent left no space untouched. Always, Frustration an unworthy creature, attacking from the back. Shadows cast beneath the fold. Frustration, like the starving animal, unsatisfied and hungry for the lagging one.

Blue Tale

Blue Tale

May you dream of happy memories…

Free verse written 1977, Blue Lion created in 2014 published with another post a few months back (I still like this guy, he makes me smile. I hope he makes you smile too.)

 

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A Red Rhyme at Blue 14

I adored when the 4:30 movie featured Vincent Price playing characters straight out of Edgar Allen Poe stories. Images of men strapped to tables – sharp pendulums making slow descents – are forever sliced into my brain. Remarkably, my young teenage journal from those influential Poe Days, has withstood the test of time. Here’s a piece from my 14-year-old, drama-infused self.

If I should die in silence
what reason would there be
to have no other hands
share in my misery
so I shall ne’er expire
’cause I can’t cry for me

Paper Shadow

Paper Shadow

May you dream of pristine poetry in rhythmic lines of slumber…and if there are teens in your life, may they be happy and drama-free. 🙂

Poem written in 1977, graphic created with Prisma pencil in 2014 🙂

Those Were the Days, My Friend

you and I once sang
all the time
your knees were knobby, mine round
we sang out
those were the days, my friend
we loved that song
remember
singing for nana and papa
our little voices were bigger back then
before time pushed notes down our throats
and set us to rhythms
for a while
we fought the changes
when our little voices were bold
and we sang
those were the days, my friend
I think about you often
hoping you remember
those unabashed girls
sisters
friends
whose little voices
rang out
those were the days, my friend


Me and Do littleMay you dream of your sisters and hold them tight…
Photo of me and my sis way back when we never changed our shirts or cared 🙂 and below, my tea for 2 lady created with Prisma a few months back.
And a big thank you to my friend, Deb Levy who provided me with – Deb for Dummies – step-by-step instructions on how to embed a video – this is my very first and I couldn’t wait ’til Monday!

Tea Cap

Tea Cap

Peace to the families and friends of the Germanwings jet tragedy

Smile Everlasting

illuminating the atmosphere
she leaves a room
her brightness remains
how blessed are those
sharing the light of her company
I’d love to believe
moments live on forever
I’d like to be remembered
for my mother’s breathtaking smile
millie's smileMay you dream of all selfless mothers everlasting…

Photos taken from two entertainment shows my mom’s community center put on. In both pics she (I think) lip syncing Peggy Lee. In real life my mom has lovely brown hair and doesn’t wear plastered makeup, but she gets a kick out of these pics. I hope you do too. In the top photo (most recent) she is 79 years old, photo below she is 78.
Below is one of my kooky graphics from a few months back. Done in Prisma pencil.

Aged Smile

Aged Smile

Sails of Feather

a boat floating on sunshine
its sails fashioned from feather
the shape was light blue, like the urgent eyes of a young Husky
beneath the hull
the sun’s rays rippled like ocean water
casting a scarlet sheen
the sea rose and fell like soft ice cream spilling into a Dixie cup
and there I sat
my legs crossed, humming along when a salty old albatross named Virgil alighted
Virgil was unwilling to hum as he was in a bad bird mood
he told me my vessel was destined to sink
unless I gifted my ship’s feathered sails to him
it was the only way to save us both
I didn’t want sinking to be my last memory
using golden hemp rope clipped at the bow
I tied the plumed sails to Virgil’s grey stooped shoulders
the old albatross twisted his head to preen his new sailing wings
Virgil nodded his craggy head in approval
I climbed aboard his great avian back, my legs crossing like a Gyptian Princess.
The air sung between my painted toes
Virgil’s old voice rang out like it might have when his feathers were white
I woke
and remembered
the albatross is in peril
Virgil does need help
woodcraneMay you dream for all bird species continued survival

The above image is that of an American Woodstork and like the albatross they are also endangered, recently the woodstork’s survival has been downgraded to threatened in some areas. He was drawn a few weeks ago with marker and paint

19 of 22 albatross species have been threatened with extinction. Albatross populations initially declined due to harvesting for feathers.Today, albatrosses are threatened by introduced species as well.

Tarzan No More…

Where is my inner-tomboy when I need her most
Why didn’t she make the call
No, she made me do it
I was a hedgehog rolling up in a ball to protect myself
I squeezed my eyes like a poor-sighted wombat
tears streaming down my face
My inner-tomboy is a wolverine
she takes down prey ten-times her size
She is a bottle-nosed dolphin
playful but oh, so very smart
I wish she would’ve been there for me
My Tarzan-holler would’ve wrested her
back from the jungle
but maybe I’ve become Jane
I did wear a sequinned shirt on New Year’s

Is Jane so bad?
Perhaps at 51, I’ve become girlie
So, I guess I’ll have to make the tough calls
inner-tomboyless
Apparently, I’m Jane now
but
those pink sparkly Sketchers will hug home plate
’cause come hell or high water
I’ll swing that baseball bat ’til the day I die

wombatMay you dream of your inner-jungle human…

Wombat (endangered) created last week 
I remain Mac-less, on a PC and fumbling with image feature – this is blurry – my apologies.

Fortune Hand over Fist

Little men in top hats doling out pink money
belts out pretty lady with giant check
mate found with no strings
attached garage and two bath
room for much growth
sector of population healthy
start to end
results in good weather
or knots of strained gold from cowboy kettle
bells ring for sailors lost at sea returned
lost dogs to desperate owners
home open to desperate soul
mate found for lonely single
income enables family shelter
the homeless during the cold
cash won in lottery
ticketed for reduced sailing
ship has come in
the most difficult hours
is yours
yours is
mine of diamonds are
girls best friends in life
everlasting
peace on earthly
possessions of love
ever after
noon tea
leaves the world
game of chance won
time for a fortune
teller told to me bank future
stock up on soup
up cars for the ride
of a lifetime

SImon Says Peace

SImon Says Peace

May you dream of good fortune always.
As you can plainly read, one sometimes goes crazy when their laptop frizzles and they must use an unfamiliar computer

Simon Says Peace: rendered months ago with Prisma pencil

Siren Songs and Spiced Lattes

caroline in oceanthe search for promises hooked on the bait of allure
wayward craft sluice through the flesh of midnight waters
spiraling granite beacons battle webs of mist
call the siren home
shimmering wooden planks skim frothing foam
tumbling waves mash what once was settled

they speak over spiced lattes
brewed with heady steam
and spinning mugs of gathering tea leaves
sea salt scones infused with elderberry compote
shimmering words skim linen napkins
and they begin to believe once more
manatee

May you dream of beautiful sirens calling you home.
During his first journey to the Americas, Columbus spied several “mermaids” off the prow of his ship.

Photo of delicate daughter at Lake Champlain, VT in 2006
West Indian Manatee (endangered species) created 2 weeks ago using marker and pencil and ocean water 🙂
This post is dedicated to D. Levy an inspiring, talented writer and friend. Read Deb’s short story, “At the Beach,” published in Cleaver magazine.

 

Phantasms of Fantasy

she is not fearful
monster habitats
are not of this world
loved ones reinforce
and echo friendly books
monsters are creative figments
phantasms of fantasy
into dollhouse she is not fearful
monster habitats
are not of this world
learned now
she reminds herself
monsters are creative figments
phantasms of fantasy
buck fifty headline – RAMPAGE
closet monstermonsters
are not of this world
she is learned
she reminds herself

May you dream of safety for all the world’s children.

Photo of delicate daughter taken 14 years ago in her most favorite house, monster on black sketched on printer paper while subbing yesterday, marker added at home.

Teacher First

I spoke to her today
Her face a wrinkled veil protecting the child beneath
I heard her today
Her words dancing in the room with blazing jazz shoes
I saw her today
Her spring-loaded instincts fidgeting with blanket resolve
I noticed her today
Her fervent green pen pushing aside yellow chalk dust
I admired her today
Her devoted dream as crisp as a new binding

Wurd Warrior/acrylic

Wurd Warrior/acrylic

May you dream of the world’s children having access to education.
As a substitute teacher, I have the honor and privilege to observe bonafide teachers work with children of all abilities. Many of these dedicated professionals are nothing short of miracle workers. This post is dedicated to caring teachers everywhere.

Wurd Warrior, acrylic on board, created back in the 1990’s for an illustration course I took at New York School of Visual Arts.