“Mirror Mirror” (A Lot Shorter Than The Movie)

Posted March 25, 2012 by ManicDdaily
Categories: poetry, Uncategorized

Tags: , , , , ,

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Here’s a bit of a throwaway  (I shouldn’t call it that–how about a bit of “fluff”) for Tess Kincaid’s Mag 101.  Tess posts a great photo each week as a writing prompt.  The above is my drawn version of the photo and my poem. (The original photo was by Duane Michals.)

Mirror Mirror

Mirror, mirror, in my arms,
multiply my many charms.
Cast them here and throw them there.
round the arch, above the fair.
Loop them over that which glisters–
‘till me and my refracted sisters,
with iron will and eye for gold,
prove ourselves both brave and bold.
Oh glass, let face reflected twice,
out-spark glare’s fire, freeze shoulder’s ice,
as we set out to make our own
Who’s Who flesh and blue blood’s bone. 
Up up we’ll climb, we won’t look down,
dear mirror, till we toast the town.
and then together, all us three,
will, finally, be simply–me.  

(I am also linking this poem to Poetry Picnic’s prompt about favorite things, as I think the mirror may qualify for this poetic character.

Have a lovely Sunday, and if you’ve got a moment, check out my books!  Very fun novel, NOSE DIVE,  book of poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, or children’s counting book 1 MISSISSIPPI. )

Her Own Private Not-Idaho – “Seeing Blue”

Posted March 24, 2012 by ManicDdaily
Categories: poetry, Uncategorized

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Photo by James Rainsford.

dVerse Poets Pub has a poetics challenge today hosted by Victoria C. Slotto and James Rainsford, using lovely photographs by James Rainsford.  Here’s mine (based on photo above):

Seeing Blue 

So, the sea is blue and Caesar conquered.
(That’s all they talk of in this wonk herd.)
We’ve trooped up every single stone-walled fort
and every stack of bricks of that same sort.
(My mom thinks we should learn when on vacation–
it’s like she’s never heard of recreation.) 
Our tour guide has a lisp–I mustn’t laugh,
not even when he shooth uth from the grath.
Okay, he’s nice, and those mosaics were cool,
but all my friends are hanging at the pool.
At least, I’ve got a tan, my hair’s gone blonder,
but absence from my pack won’t make them fonder,
and Jake who always sat right next to me–
it seems like he’s not even texting me–
His eyes are just as blue as this bright sea,
but, now, we may be ancient history.
So, hurry trip, get done and get me home,
so I can take back my own private Rome. 

Have a great Saturday.  And, if you are in the mood for a fun escape that’s a whole lot cheaper than a trip to the deep blue sea, check out my books!  My  comic novel, NOSE DIVE,  book of poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, or children’s counting book 1 MISSISSIPPI. )

Getting Away for the weekend in 55 words

Posted March 23, 2012 by ManicDdaily
Categories: Country weekend, Uncategorized, Vicissitudes of Life

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Three words form the main thought in my head right now: “made the train.”

These are followed by a pause: “ah.”

Then comes a two-word thought: “it’s Friday.”

Followed by deeper pause: “aaahh.”

Then I think of you coming to meet me, waiting at the end of the line. There are no words for that.

(I’m off! And blogging from iPhone! On a train! Who knows what will show up but whatever does, tell it to the G-man.

Old Stomping/Campground (In Limericks) (Plus Love Novice)

Posted March 22, 2012 by ManicDdaily
Categories: poetry

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dVerse Poets Pub today has a limericks prompt hosted by the wonderfully clever Madeleine Begun Kane and Gay Reiser Cannon. Limericks are naturally pretty humerous–but I tried here, for a change, to write linked limericks that tended towards the nostalgic rather than funny.   (For purposes of this poem, Margaret should be read as a two syllable name.)

Old Campground

What I think of the most is the scent–
a blend of grilled hot dog and tent–
the back yard’s wet grass
(all gone now alas)
 our campground a field of cement– 

And where did we go who were there?
Dear Margaret with long braided hair–
And Susie, her sis,
who always would hiss
that she’d go tell their mom we weren’t fair–

We swore that we’d never betray
the friendship we pledged everyday–
But soon we forgot
that closeness we sought–
each going her own separate way.

Till now, when I’m back in that time
when Marg’ret’s braids flopped next to mine
on sleeping bag’s hood
at the edge of a wood
and our life seemed so damp but so fine,
when all life seemed so damp but so fine. 

And here’s one that’s just plain silly (and a bit more traditional):

Novice No More

There was a young student of love;
as a novice, she cooed like a dove,
but once she excelled,
oh then, how she yelled,
pleasing Profs both below and above.  

(My apologies.)

Much more serious note

Posted March 21, 2012 by ManicDdaily
Categories: news, Uncategorized, Vicissitudes of Life

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On a much much more serious note from my last post–maybe I feel so tired today because the news is just so sad–the Trayvon Martin case so painful–the news from Afghanistan–the happenings in Toulouse.  (One would like to run away from it all.)

Running Along Hudson During Twilight (The Movie)

Posted March 21, 2012 by ManicDdaily
Categories: Stress, Uncategorized

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I am a big believer in pay-back. Not in the vigilante sense, or the vengeful sense, or even the karmic sense. (I’ve known a lot of good people to whom very bad things have happened.)

I mean pay-back, in the sense of you need to pay something in to an experience–energy, openness, commitment–in order to get something back from that experience. (Yes, I know this isn’t always true.)

I guess what I am really trying to say is that I spent much of the day fighting intense fatigue. Oh, I slogged along, but how many two-bag cups of tea can you gulp down without completely undermining any added productivity through the induction of a urinary tract infection? (Quite a few actually.)

And then, this evening, as I slumped down onto the couch, my daughter found the Twilight movie on TV.

There was Robert Pattinson looking chalk-faced, garnet-lipped, and (below the hair) very very stolid. There was Kristen Stewart madly hesitating.

And I was exhausted, I tell you! But something–some tatter of self-respect or preservation–got me up and out (even just before Rob saved Kristen from the careening van) and jogging along the deep blue black of the Hudson.

It was terrific. Air and blueness and streetlamp halo-dom—I felt suddenly energized.

Well, for an hour maybe.

But then, unfortunately, it wore off. (AFTER I had missed the movie!)

Geez.

“Amulet”

Posted March 20, 2012 by ManicDdaily
Categories: poetry, Uncategorized

Tags: , , , ,

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Amulet

My body is an amulet
craving your palm.

It longs
to duck inside your collar,
to be tucked
below your shirt, to slide
in and out of the buckle of sternum,
dangling upon your chest, nestling
against your breast, wresting

from your soft-hard flesh
whatever it is that hones
stone, takes home
the touch of you.

Charmed charm, it presses
against the caress of thumb,
forefinger, blesses

skin-lingering–the rub
for good luck, the kiss questing
protection–
I will bring you what
I can, love,
but in return must be
kept close, coveted,
not lost.


(Sorry that the amulet in the photo above is a bit dorky!  I wasn’t quite up for making a fresh drawing this morning, but am very happy to post the poem and photo for the wonderful dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night, and also for Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads, another wonderful poetry website.  These are terrific sources for those interested in writing and reading poetry or for anyone who just wants to get out of the box of daily life for a bit.  While you are getting out of that box, take a chance on NOSE DIVE, a fun escapist book written by yours truly, illustrated by Jonathan Segal.)  Here also are links to revuews by Charles Mashburn  and Victoria Ceretto (fellow poet-bloggers.)

Available in print and on Kindle (for just 99 cents!)

(As always, all rights reserved.)

Blogger’s Quandary/Pearl Losing Enthusiasm

Posted March 19, 2012 by ManicDdaily
Categories: Blogging, Uncategorized

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I used to be able to rely on Pearl writing for me.

She did a great job.

Though the transcribing was kind of a pain.

I woke up to a bloggers’ quandary today.

I actually started this blog primarily to popularize (and sell) my books!   (At the moment, there are three– comic novel, NOSE DIVE,  book of poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, or children’s counting book 1 MISSISSIPPI. )

But pretty soon, blogging took on a life of its own–a life which has kind of crowded out not only the selling of books but the writing of them.

For a while I could rely on Pearl to write the books–but Pearl, like me, is getting old.  And blind.  And tired.  And her writing can be a real b—- to transcribe.

The problem is that it’s a bit lonely to write books and very very lonely to try to get people to read them.  While blogging is communal.  And being part of a community is fun.  And inspiring.

And yet, well, Pearl–that is, Pearl and I–really enjoy book writing, at least in principal.

So, what is to be done?

(Other than teaching Pearl to type. )

Hmmmm…..

Mag 109 – “Post-Mechanics” (What he had wanted was to be a Satyr)

Posted March 18, 2012 by ManicDdaily
Categories: poetry, Uncategorized

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The above and below are based on a photo prompt posted by Tess Kincaid of Magpie Tales.  The original photograph is by Robert and Shana Parkeharrison.

Post-Mechanics

What he had wanted
was to be a satyr, a muscle mass
of chest and tendril, unreconstructed
curve–hair, vine, thigh, scrotum-
blip of nipple, smile, wink-
but no–there had to be a
Newton, as in Sir Isaac, a Newton,
as in a unit of force, and urges
were transmuted to
ergs, curves
turning diametrical, bolts
having to be tightened, gears
meshed, and getting caught
in the cross-hairs
wasn’t nearly so much fun
any more, everything
screwed up but
good.

At The Ends Of Fairy Tales (Worse-than-stubbed-toes)

Posted March 17, 2012 by ManicDdaily
Categories: poetry

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At the Ends of Fairy Tales

Birds nearly always pluck out the bad girls’ eyes
while toes are cut away to accommodate
(somewhat bloody) dainty shoes.  No surprise
that in the drawn-from-the-thrown-bone world, fate
demands retribution; the happily-
ever-after happier in the here
and now with a side of vengeance snappily
dished out. (‘And, for you, Stepmother Dear,
how ‘bout a barrel of nails, a handy
hill?’)  For, in truth (forsooth), bliss that will last
is difficult to depict–all candy
we’ve ever known melts upon first taste, fast
forwards to decay, while the sudden woes
of others engrave our brains (like those lost toes).

(The above is a poem for the dVerse Poets Pub Poetics challenge, relating to fairy tales.  Check out the site!)