Delightful Poetry On Thursday

Just click the title to read more about the poet and the poem.

In a Grain of Sand by Jesús Papoleto Meléndez

To see a world in a grain of sand …
—from “Auguries of Innocence” by William Blake

We are Starseeds
every one of us –
you & me,
& me and you
& him & her,
& them
& they
& those
Who know of this
     are truly blessed …

True for all
   living beings,
beings living –
not humans only,
but ants & trees
& the open breeze,
things that breathe
air or fire,
water, earth
   all kinds of dust
& dirt,
particles
a part of all,
all a part
  of
Everything
that is
in everything;
Thus, it Sings!!!
& its song
is Life,
    & Life
                                                                          is!!! …
a seed of Stars,
the dust of Suns
& Moons
rocks & dust
& outer smoke
  in outer space
Floating
in a bath of timelessness,
   counted, measured
numbered
by some species –
others caring not;
Science & Mathematics
   trying to plot
    Poetry in motion,
Motion
in a Helix’s curve,
And Life
on Earth
becomes visible
to You
through the naked I!

Wed.AM Poem

As always, please click through to learn more about the poem, and the poet.

The Talking Coconut by Ed Morales

Sunset at Luquillo wetlands
Brings the biting flies
As night sky caresses
The murmuring sand

El coco que habla
Me preguntó, cowrie eyes smiled
About the twilight Idlewild
Donde llegó mi papá

He said he was Elegguá
But was wise to front Changó
At parties, in the bodega
Where he had to let go

And declaim the colonial critique
Of privatized electric chic
The long hours spent sweating
The centuries of remembering

Surplus avionetas in northward flow
Slow danced mainland passage
Loss of original language
Nostrand is no place to go

When the jíbaro dance
In the Caborrojeño
Spelled the death of the docile
Somnambulant bugaloo

The coco could only
Speak in tongues freely
The babble of the balneario
Espíritu of the coíony

The décima ringing
Spirit called Lavoe
Alchemical singing
Breaking bad flow

Changó outside,
Elegguá down low
The crossed flag of Lares
Always lets you know

I Just Had To-

Close to Home by John McPherson for December 10, 2024

Close to Home Comic Strip for December 10, 2024

Peace & Justice History for 12/10

https://www.peacebuttons.info/E-News/peacehistorydecember.htm#december10

Poetry on Tuesday Morning

(This one fascinates me. As always, click on the title to learn more about the poem, and the poet as well.)

Fantasy Tennessee Reed

I stay at an underwater hotel
My room cost $40,000 per night
But I used my hotel points I earned
From all the traveling I have done over the years
My room’s floor-to-ceiling windows look out into the royal purple waters
A Convict Surgeonfish swims by
Its electric blue body tilts as it veers to my left
Two snorkelers dive below me
Paying close attention to the rapidly changing current

And watching out for the camouflaged stone fish
Whose spine releases a poison that can cause paralysis
There is no antidote for its venom
Glad that I’m far from the crowds
And in my room relaxing

I dine at the underwater hotel
My table placed against the glass windows
The deep waters below me
And shallow waters above me
I look through the glass ceiling
And see a white light at the top,
Which is a reflection of the sunlight

I visit the underwater hotel’s spa
Tucked underneath white sheets
With hot stones placed on my upper back, neck and shoulders
I close my eyes
Hearing the sounds of rainfall, breaking waves, wind,
Landslides and earthquakes from the depths below
As I get massaged by candlelight

I depart the underwater hotel
The boat taking me back to shore
Where I meet a taxi that takes me to the airport
We glide over turquoise, shallow waters
I look behind me
I see the hotel becoming smaller and smaller
And the deep waters becoming a darker and darker blue
A storm is approaching
The sky reflects how I feel
Now that my solo vacation has come to an end

Meep, Meep!

Greater Roadrunner

Aaaahh!

I only got up about 2 hours ago; I was up late again, and stayed abed like a lazy person. I just read this in email, and it really hit the spot for me! Enjoy.

“Life is the first gift, love is the second, and understanding, the third.”

Marge Piercy

The “Chatty Chicken”

Plain Chachalaca

2Fer Poetry on Saturday

Click on the titles to read more about each poet, and their poem.

Wooden Window Frames Luci Tapahonso

The morning sun streams through the little kitchen’s
wooden panes; its luminescence tempts me to forego coffee.
But I don’t. The dark coffee scent melds with the birds’
chirping along the hidden acacia. Then, a small bird
alights on the cross of the wooden clothesline.
Its tiny head turns from side to side, then as if sensing me,
it gazes at me through a window square.
We ponder each other, then remember our manners,
and it flies off into the clean, cold air.

My Kiowa friends say a visit from a bird
is the spirit of a departed loved one.
I think again of Marie, my friend, my comadre –
the many feast days, powwows, and trips we shared.
We cruised down Taos’s one main street,
and rushed to Smith’s grocery for last-minute necessities,
or Walmart for the white cylinder candles for wakes.
We hauled huge, bulging bags to the town dump.

Oh, sister, this entire town brims with memories
of our long sisterhood, since our early twenties
when we were young mothers,
but that was in the last century.

This quiet casita is surrounded by tall stands
of elm and cottonwood trees, their bare, brown
branches stark against the deep, blue sky.

Every other week, snow falls in thin waves
onto the flat ochre houses
that seem anchored to the ground.
Outside of these thick adobe walls, a stillness settles upon everything.
As memories drift all around, I gather ingredients for a stew,
scents of coffee and toast linger around the arched doorway,
and the warm air in the kitchen lightens the chopping of vegetables.
Soon, the windowpanes are damp from the simmering stew.

All there is now, is to wait, sip coffee, and watch the snow
fall in layers on the roofs, trees, fences, and cars.

I am in a serene cocoon of memories.
All our conversations and laughter are silent now.
Somewhere north of here, dogs bark playfully,
probably romping in the fresh snow.
Just up the road at the pueblo, your family gathers.
They replenish the fire, stir pots of red chile
and place potato salad and platters
of sliced oven bread on the table.

Untitled Lance Henson

Here is a place where nothing can die
Darkness that lives beneath the leaves

We bring our nights there without knowing
We bring our fear there before the singing begins
We bring our silent names there hoping we are forgiven

We bring our hands there scented of a river

We bring our prayers that hide and watch us
The landscape where we have held the loose feathers
Of a fallen bird

And awakened in the land of the unseen

Here is a place where nothing can die …

Happy Thanksgiving, However You May Observe It!

Protect your keyboard, and enjoy some Cover Snark!

Cover Snark: A Possible Bathroom Emergency

by Amanda · Nov 25, 2024 at 4:00 am · View all 18 comments

Welcome back to Cover Snark!

Star Crossed Captive by J.E. McDonald. A scruffy shirtless man in space. He is turned away from us and looking of his shoulder. It looks like he's wearing black dress slacks and has a big ol' juicy booty. The background is space with a big glowing space station in the back.

From Jen: Maybe it’s me but this head does not look natural on this body.

Sarah: Definitely not the head that body came with. Also, is that the dude from Downton Abbey?

Elyse: Looks like Sebastian Stan to me.

Maya: It looks like BBL Spaceman had one too many surgeries.

…

I think we need some input from all of you! Does this cover say:

Stain-Crossed
Stair-Crossed
Stan-Crossed
Other

(See on the page.)

His Darkest Desire by Tiffany Roberts. A green glowing forest. A greenish gray man with long dark hair and dark green, translucent, veiny wings has his arms wrapped about a curvy woman. She has wavy, light brown hair and is wearing a light blue bikini top and matching, gauzy skirt. Glowing blue jellyfish are floating around them.

Sneezy: Why is his left hand in a different plane of existence than the rest of everything? Are push-up bras in fashion again? Where did her legs go? Are those flying jellyfish? Inquiring minds want to know

Shana: I wish more covers incorporated flying jellyfish.

Sarah: I too am most curious about the glowy flying jellyfish! Like, are they buddies? Do they follow the Cursed One around like little night lights?