Lena Maree

Tonight,
I think of my maternal grandmother,
(Chelsea buns, vetkoek, hugs to save the world)
passed some 30-odd years ago -
“Kari, Kari…”, her loving voice as I drift to sleep
and remember that stark day
she fell crossing the road
outside the Durban Museum

And I, five, thinking she was dead,
screamed!

But she did not let go
of my hand, and smiled
in her usual, generous way
as strangers helped her to her feet.

Always the comforter of souls -
Sweet, wonderful Lena Maree.

bb-lmp

WPC: Selfie

Selfie, Picasso-style

Selfie, Picasso-style

Self Portrait (a re-post)

They say

We know
who we are
in adulthood -

Sister,
not brother
,
Wife,
not mother  -

A prosaic mosaic,
fragments of a self

But don’t ask me
to complete the picture -

Time has lost
more than a few pieces.

—————————————————————————————————-

For other selfies, see The Daily Post.

Five favourites from this week:

Jacquie Just Doing Life

Cee’s Photography

Midlife Crisis Crossover

The Syllabub Sea

Shmamaland

Weekly Photo Challenge: Unexpected

bb-un1Wild Conspiracies (a re-post)

I ask scribbly gum moths:
Why this graffiti on trees?
“Mind your own business,
they’re just doodles, if you please”

I ask a plodding snail:
Why the squiggles on the path?
“There ain’t nothing in it -
I just do it for a laugh”

I ask the sly hyena:
Why the tunnels ‘neath the trail?
“Well! Installation art’s
not only for the snail!”

I ask the bower bird:
Why that hoard of shining bling?
“Oh, poppet, it’s no mystery
objets d’art are my thing”

I ask the primping zebra:
What’s with the barcode?
“Poor darling, don’t you know?
Stripes are back in vogue”

But, you know, I don’t believe them -
It’s a vast conspiracy
It’s clear that they are sending
secret messages to me…

8-O 8-O 8-O 8-O 8-O 8-O 8-O 8-O 8-O 8-O 8-O 8-O

For more entries to the WPC Unexpected theme, see The Daily Post.

Blurb blurble bloop… Help! One-Sentence Biography Competition

I’m trying to get my first poetry book completed and self-published on Blurb. One of the elements I’m still missing is a short blurb/biography about me in relation to poetry – I don’t want to write this myself, and if I asked anyone in my family or non-blogging circle of friends, I’d get something along the lines of:

“‘x‘ is my ‘insert relation type here‘ – she writes poetry, but I’ve got no idea what she’s on about.

So I’m looking for some help from you—the esteemed Blogging community (how’m I doing on the sycophantic flattery front?) for something short, and not necessarily serious, and thus am holding a one-sentence biography competition: 

Post your entries in the comments section of this post.

I will include the kindest best ones on the front flap and may include any snide irreverent blooper blurbs on the back, all attributed of course.

Payment?!

bb-blurbcomp

Don’t be silly! We all know poetry books don’t sell!

The winner will, however, receive a mystery prize. ;-)

Weekly Photo Challenge: An Unusual Point of View

bb-upovTraffic

There is traffic
and, then, there
is
a galaxy. Traffic does not move
at the speed of light, like a flash
of rage. Step into space
without the gravity suit
and you will see
there is traffic
and the oh so important
corporate man
and, then, there is the universe. I don’t look

at the pegs as I hang
out the washing. I look
for you

beyond the moon.

***********************************************************************

For more entries to this week’s photo challenge, see The Daily Post.

Creosote

Is the scent

of an ancestor’s skull kicked
down a bush runway -
an elephant remembers

bones and dust,

the echo of hyena
comedy nights, jaws
on buffalo bones

chalk and dust,

a tall silhouette beyond the runway -
a blind man – inhales the dusk
for ghost-lions
before crossing to light
the camp fire

blood and dust

in the dark, leopards
gaze at embers
of an ancient story

fate throws the bones,
a plane flies

into a hillside

flesh and blood,
bones and dust,

and creosote.

Sea of Creepy Monsters (Warning: Not Suitable for Tillys)

bb-wcuts1I don’t believe in god or Intelligent D,
But if I did, it would seem to me,
While creating things wot live under the sea,
He was high on coke or LSD.

Sea of Creepy Monsters

New Deep Sea Creatures Discovered

bb-wcuts2bb-wcww

Balancing

The upside of the downside is creativity,
downside of the downside – survivability,
upside of the upside,
anxiety-free,
downside of the upside…
..dearth of poetry.

In a dark time, the eye begins to see
Theodore Roethke

——————————————————————————————–

Someone who’s definitely not suffering from a dearth of inspiration at the moment is artist (and hidden poet) Bénédicte Delachanal.

Check out her wonderfully humorous marriage of art and words as she tackles this month’s NaPoWriMo challenge. C’est une joie. :-D

Unsung Heroes

Vilakazi,
in the riots of  ’76,

Henderson,
in the shadows of ’77,

Bailey,
through the dark and bitter end:

Not sacrificing themselves
for a cause,

these ordinary men,

just rescuing
our hopes,
one act at a time.

Photo by RIP - © beeblu

Photo by RIP – © beeblu

The Writer’s Desk – A Challenge from Spirit Lights the Way

I rarely write poetry bb-wd01

 at my desk -

but prefer cafes,

bb-wd04

trains,

bb-wd07

wide open spaces,

bb-wd02

gardens,

bb-wd06

forests,

bb-wd05

whispering places -

bb-wd03

and on dark, stormy nights,

my bed,

next to cheeky faces

bb-wd08

:-D

xxx

For a chance to win a great prize in Nancy’s challenge,

hop over to Spirit Lights the Way for details

Search Engine Poetry: Sweet Planet Poems

She was the first blogger to make me laugh out loud, by asking me, on my About page, whether I was a man or a woman  – the question astounded me and was the beginning of my appreciation of the mind-altering value of blogging: the way others perceive us is often so different from the way we see ourselves.

Insightful and multi-talented, Monica of Sweet Planet Poems is one of my oldest blogging friends – and how grateful I am that she has stayed the distance! :-) She has a delightful sense of humour, a rare generosity of spirit and a passion for the natural world that infuses her enchanting blog and publications.

She is a tireless campaigner for the protection of wolves in their natural habitat and shares their mystique in her wonderful poems, videos and photos many of which she creates on her frequent trips to Yellowstone National Park.

Monica has woven this delightful found poem in response to my Search Engine Poetry Challenge – I see it as a mirror of all the good in her heart (even the “picking up dog poop” line. :-D)

xxx

And here are a few of my favourite posts on Sweet Planet Poems:

Wild Wolf Encountersthis post is a free download of Monica’s wonderful collection of poetry on wolves.

Homeward Bound

With Patton in Germany

Mathematics of the Heart

City Skin

Spiral Rings

René Who?

Thanks for participating, dear Monica

:-D

Divine Dementia

So many days
we are beyond bereft

at some ancient
god’s puzzled mumbles
beneath the night lamp,

his tremulous finger-fumbles
with jigsaw fragments
of our lives,

his fearful look of surprise
at the countless missing pieces
of his Master Plan,

unaware of the devil dog
chewing at his feet.

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/16/nyregion/gunman-kills-20-children-at-school-in-connecticut-28-dead-in-all.html?hp&_r=0

http://jmgoyder.com/2012/12/15/children/

http://nrhatch.wordpress.com/2012/12/14/an-unblossomed-bloom/

http://thelaughinghousewife.wordpress.com/2012/12/15/no-humour-today/

http://susandanielspoetry.com/2012/12/14/body-bags/

Weekend Prompt: Childhood Revisited

bb-ch1

It wasn’t smells or tastes or dear old Patchy,
or Teddy or Polly or clothes that were scratchy,

but bright orange blossoms beaming out from my walls,
retro symbols of happiness from ceiling to floor -
my first bedroom’s wallpaper sticks like glue
in my mind to this day  (my sibling’s too -
at the time they thought he had chronic colic
but, it seems, brother’s wall-art was making him sick -
all those racing-cars whizzing about his head
(he confessed, years later) made him dizzy in bed).

So my first memory – wallpaper, and subtropical heat,
and the tickles of mum’s kisses under my feet.

bb-ob

In response to the Daily Post’s Weekend Prompt: Childhood Revisited – What is your earliest memory? Describe it in detail, and tell us why you think that experience was the one to stick with you.

Search Engine Poetry: The Laughing Housewife

My linguistics professor would call it “spooky action at a distance, and, indeed, it is a sort of blogging quantum entanglement, a weird close encounter of the blogging kind.

I speak of The Laughing Housewife, a.k.a. Tilly Bud.

Not that I’m saying Tilly’s weird, you understand (although once you’ve read her Search Engine Poem, you might disagree) – what I’m referring to is the strange coincidence that although we’ve never met, and know of each other only through our blogging connection, twenty years ago we were in the very same room at the very same time. (You’ll have to read this post’s comments if you want to know more).

So, anyway, what to say about Tilly?

A monumental intellect, a resilience that’s instructive, and a sense of humour that can shine a light through the darkest disposition. Nothing can wipe the smile off her face.

Quite like a worldwide shortage of Maltesers (I suspect this (second photo) was one of those times),
dodgy punctuation and grammar
(any evidence of this in her found poem below is purely intentional),
or sycophants and flatterers (“no Maltesers for you!“).

She loves to cook, dance, sing, and do I’m-not-going-to-ask-what to the long-suffering Hub. 

But we forgive her all that ;-), because, besides making us laugh and being a loving mother, Tilly is an accomplished poet.

Not only has her poetic talent been showcased in poetry journals and other interesting places, but she’s also about to release what promises to be a very interesting book of poetry memoir, and has another (on poo) in the pipeline ;-).

In the meantime, here’s her entry to my Search Engine Poetry challenge.
(Warning – not suitable for those suffering from Chaetophobia)

girls that dont shave

a found poem for Bluebee

irish women don’t shave
welding women don’t shave
freak americans don’t shave

hairy women armpits
bushy sweaty arm pits
kerala housewife armpits

air in armpits, girls

————————-Thanks, Tilly! :-D (let’s hope you never find yourself in the same room as these internet-search weirdos)———-