Bird Girl Catches the Worm
Posted August 6, 2017 by ManicDdailyCategories: drawings
Tags: bird girl, charcoal, manicddaily
Bird Girl at Church
Posted August 6, 2017 by ManicDdailyCategories: drawings
Tags: bird girl, charcoal, manicddaily
Bird Girl and the Black-eyed Susans
Posted August 6, 2017 by ManicDdailyCategories: drawings
Tags: bird girl, charcoal, manicddaily
Bird Girl Head Over Heels
Posted August 6, 2017 by ManicDdailyCategories: drawings
Tags: bird girl, charcoal, manicddaily
Not Morse
Posted August 6, 2017 by ManicDdailyCategories: poetry
Tags: flash 55, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com, manicddaily, not quite love poem, Spoke in Code
Not Morse
They spoke in code, each word a secret agent
of another, so that, “I need more time
for myself,’ meant ‘I’m seeing
someone else.’
And so on.
At first, even uttered letters
delighted in the game, dipthongs preening
at devices, consonants peacocking
about the vowels, but soon language stretched
to strain, silence pained.
*******************
55 words for Kerry O’Connor’s prompt on Real Toads, with a special challenge to write something stemming from the art of Erte. A piece on the letter M by Romain de Tirtoff, known as Erté, above.
Wound (Passed Down)
Posted August 5, 2017 by ManicDdailyCategories: poetry
Tags: How We Do What we Do, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com, manicddaily, mother-daughter poem
Wound (Passed Down)
My mother didn’t know
the contours of her wound
so had to sculpt mine
by feel
as if she were a blind girl
and I were a piano that she heard
by touch,
only that would have been a deaf girl
and she didn’t honestly
touch much.
At a certain point, I took charge
of my own wound,
but since I also worked by feel at first,
its deepening seemed somewhat haphazard
like the chance radio station
the frequencies always
default to.
It was only as I grew older
when I could see it in the mirror
or when I looked down
at my person
that I became conscious of where
I put in the dirk.
****************************
Poem for Margaret Bednar’s lovely quilting challenge on Real Toads. Not sure this exactly fits but what I have. The above an image from fabric saved by Margaret. Process note: dirk is a small knife (probably more properly a small dagger of Scottish Highland origin.)
The Moment My Own Nurse
Posted July 29, 2017 by ManicDdailyCategories: poetry, Uncategorized
Tags: manicddaily, mother-daughter poem, narrative poem
Of course, she’d been drugged, but
“I just can’t believe it, I can’t
believe it,” she exclaimed even as
she breathed, and in the elevator,
took my face in both hands,
as I bent over
the gurney, and
‘oh” my name, she said, you know, saying
my name, and “oh” my name
so intensely that the nurse
teared up,
and it’s not that we
are in perfect synch or
synch,
though I did know how to calm her somehow
both pre- and post-op, playing just the right music into
her almost deaf ears, able too to sing
along–
still, it was a moment–my mother loving me–
no, my mother always
loves me–but my mother loving me
with her hands–
I can feel them yet, the flow of blood that turned
the cool palms pink, there
on my cheeks,
I can feel them
yet.
**************
For my own prompt on Real Toads (posting later today) to write a poem using narrative. The drawing is mine; all rights reserved.
ps will be traveling today so may be late in returning comments, thanks!














Recent Comments