My Rat Friend

 my rat friend

lives in my garage.

i feed him

kibble, neat.

friend owl is hungry as well--

they play cat-and-mouse.

moon is high

owl on the branch waits.

neighbor has

a floodlight.

when it shuts off, rat comes out.

so far so good, bud.

in summer

a hawk eats pigeons

rat is safe.

in winter

i watch owl watch my rat friend

feasting in the dark.

___________

a shadorma for Dverse OLN.

River Under a Stone Bridge

 

The river runs under a stone bridge

down where no one ever goes

a place for old men where the trees bend

and ask, "Pourquoi chercher autre chose?"

Its source is hidden as is its end

this river that barely flows

where the trees bend, a place for old men

who ask, "Pourquoi chercher autre chose?"

Where the stone bridge breaks, it cannot mend

what deep January froze

a place for old men where the trees bend

and ask, "Pourquoi chercher autre chose?"

______________

pourquoi chercher autre chose?  =  why look for anything else?

A ZaniLa Rhyme for What's Going On? "In Your Deepest January"  The instructions require that phrase or "In my deepest January" but there were two problems which I hope that our wonderful host Sherry will let me slide by with. One was, that phrase just doesn't sound like me, to me. The other is that a ZaniLa Rhyme has a syllable requirement of 9-7-9-9 and a rhyme scheme and inverted third line that would have made it almost impossible. The prompt phrase is 8 syllables all by itself, so I almost had to shorten it, and so I did. If Sherry sends the Prompt Police to collect me, I will understand.

Music: Simon & Garfunkel Old Friends

Cirque de Soliel

 

Coins fell from the sun--

I ate one and lived in darkness for a year.

I said to the sun, "I can never trust you again."

A peach appeared in my hand.

I hired a cook who worked in dough and ash.

I fed bread to my dogs and lived on the last.

Magpies fell from the sun--

they mated in my mirror and made eggs out of glass.

My cook killed the birds, my dogs killed the cook

and married me off to an eight-winged ghost.

My house has a thousand turrets and attics.

The sun rises pink and sets red, automatic.

I put a coin inside a peach like a pit.

There's a ghost inside my skull in a nest.

My dogs fuss and tear and bury the rest

in my heart with my hopes and such similar shit.

_______________

for Word Garden Word List--Kindred

Music: Jackson C. Frank My Name Is Carnival 

Word Garden Word List--Kindred

 Hello my little time travelers! This week our source is a fantastic novel that I just recently read entitled Kindred by Octavia Butler. Although this book is classified as sci-fi, it has nothing to do with robots or space ships. Think buckboards and slave holders.

Published in 1979, this is the story of Dana, a young black woman living with her older, white sig other in Los Angeles in the year 1976. Dana is "called" back to the early 1800's by her ancestor Rufus, the son of a plantation owner and slave owner, every time he is in danger, and Rufus manages to get himself into dire situations on the regular. The first time, he's drowning. The second time, there's a fire, then a fight. Each time, Dana has to not only save Rufus, but she also has to navigate and survive a world where a black person is viewed as little better than a working animal. She never knows how long she'll be stuck there, but when she flips back--even after months on the plantation-- only a very short time has elapsed in 1976.

I first became interested in Kindred when i watched the mini-series on HULU some months ago. In that, Dana lives in the year 2016 and instead of an older man, her companion is a doofy waiter she just met, one of those young adults who forgot to grow up. In the book, the man acts the part, but in the mini series, the waiter has to always ask Dana what to do and he's just annoying. This is important when he gets flipped into the past with her on one of her trips. Anyway, I bought the book right after seeing the HULU series, but it sat on my shelf until a week or so ago when I ripped through the whole thing in a couple of days. It's awesome. 

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new, original poem of our own. Then simply link up, visit others, and then sit back and be glad you aren't getting flipped back in time to a plantation. This prompt remains active until next Sunday.

And now, your List:

ash

attic

coins

cook

dizzy

free

horse

hungry

jumped

kicked

knack

map

peach

rage

skull

star

trip

trust

vanish

woman

 

My Lost Friend

 

My lost friend

is dreaming now of moon-silvered streets

and the lawns in tones of blue and green

like peacocks in repose

Is your lover, my lost friend

one of those?

My lost friend

has disguised herself in the ivy vines

twining around the garden stones

where the gray cats sleep

Is your lover, my lost friend

one of these?

My lost friend

wraps her heart in fox fur red and black

and waits in the dawn for the light to come back

across the lawns in morning mist

Is your lover, my lost friend

coming back to you like this?

The Silent Bird

The bird does not sing, yet you suppose your melody

swings inside her throat just waiting to burst free.

The bird does not fly, but you suppose it loves your shoulder

as if it were her Ararat, some wonder that you showed her.

Perhaps she's ill and dying, hiding everything she can.

Perhaps she curls within herself like a feathered ampersand.

Perhaps she's silent just to vex you, cruel withholding thing.

Perhaps she sings when you're not there and makes the courtyard ring.

She may have sung before you knew her, then not sung again.

Perhaps she makes of poise and pride a royal diadem.

Does she not love, or does her heart go by another name?

And if she sings, is her voice true or just legerdemain?

_________________

for Dverse Meeting the Bar--positivity through negation 

Elemental

 

I thought that you would be like water

in summer

even if the lake lay

beyond the brambles.

On a road trip, the heat mirage oases

seem nearer

like objects in the mirror

where I first saw you.

In summer,

birds bathe in the dog dish I set out--

they fly without rising

in that finite sky.

Your dark hair seemed to flow and called me

like a siren

whose face is obscured

like her every word.

I still set out that dog dish for the winter birds

in their need.

Mornings I set it steaming

only to find it frozen by afternoon.

There are things that flow, comforting things

already changing.

I remember your reticence and kick the bowl of ice

coming free, ungiving, falling hard and only once.

_________

for What's Going On--"what cold is"

Music: Julian Lennon Ruby Tuesday

Seaside Fable

 A memory came to me, riding in a wagon

pulled by a baboon. Sick and white-faced,

this memory asked for a glass of vinegar

and told me in Spanish that the baboon was a doctor.

"She can cure you," the memory assured me 

in a terrible cross-saw voice. "I'm not sick," I

insisted, but the memory barked, balancing

a world on its nose like a seal and said, "You are dead already."

This world spun on a wash of wine, yellow and sour,

and was no world of mine. "Listen, horrid seaside ghost,

ashes can never be castles again, and you don't exist."

That's when the sick, dying, putrescent memory-thing

bit me in the heart, and laughing, threw back its head as if hanged.

There was nothing the baboon doctor could do,

and seeing this, she hocked my memory and gave

me the ticket, saying, "Swap me your forgiveness,"

but I injected her with roaring fury and beat her to death 

with my empty heart.

__________

for Word Garden Word List--Giovanni's Room

Music: Men At Work Down By The Sea

Word Garden Word List--Giovanni's Room

 Hello my little French breads. Our source this week is the short novel Giovanni's Room  by James Baldwin, which I just finished reading a couple of days ago. I had seen it on any number of lists of books to read, and seen BookTubers say it was on their 2025 TBRs, but no one seemed to tell much about why, so I just got it and read it myself. I knew it was about two men, but kind of assumed that this 1956 book would be some variety of bittersweet love story, but that's not really what it is.

James Baldwin

This story is about Giovanni, a bartender, and David, an American who is in denial about who he really is. They meet in Paris and send the reader on a grim tour of skeevy bars, predators and the preyed upon, rivers of alcohol, self-loathing and self-destruction. It's a bumpy ride to say the least. Baldwin's writing is, as always, brilliant, and the story is  worth reading but I have to say that I am both glad that I read it, and glad that I am done reading it. The only character I liked at all was Giovanni.

Anyway, what we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new, original poem of our own. Then simply link up, visit others, and then, if you find yourself in Paris, go to the Louvre. This prompt remains active until next Sunday. 

And now, your List:

ashes

bitter

brick

clean

doomed

faces

forgive

mercy

rich

roaring

room

sick

sorrow

speed

terrible

truth

voice

white

wine

yellow

I Gave You What You Asked For

 

I gave you what you asked for--

a funny book which I know now

you surely never read.

I gave you what you asked for--

someone you could maneuver into

saying, "I thee wed."

I gave you what you asked for--

someone to tie the tourniquet

every time you bled.

I gave you what you asked for--

a foil to be the fodder for

the monsters in your head.

I gave you what you asked for--

seven years of love alive and

six more stood up dead.

I gave you what you asked for--

my heart's writing you called "nice."

That's when I gave you all my scorn

and back your rotten rice.

________

for What's Going On?--"Home Made"

Music: Sara Bareilles Wicked Love

Margin Notes from Charles Dickens' Teacher

 It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,

A nice beginning, Charles, but perhaps a little bit undecided? You want a good strong direction to your opening. Try to choose one or the other and build on it!

it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness

Please refer to my first remark!

It was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity,

Very nice, Charles, but when you read this to the class today, you pronounced "epoch" as "e-poach." The correct pronunciation rhymes with "luck." It was wonderful, though, to see you come out of your shell! :-)

it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness

Unless you are referring to titles or proper names, capitals are not needed here. 

it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair

Don't forget that setting is crucial, Charles. What season is it? Do not confuse your reader!

we had everything before us, we had nothing before us

Charles... I can see that you're trying very hard on this assignment. Good for you! However, and once again, you want to be more definite here!

We were all going direct to Heaven,

Oh Charles. Religion is such a touchy subject and in class we want always to be as inclusive as possible. How about "direct to Des Moines" instead?

we were all going direct the other way--

Good, Charles, good! Everyone loves a travel story!

in short, the period was so far like the present period

We'll cover punctuation next week-- periods, commas and so forth. Just stay with your narrative--you can always go back and edit these things later, after we've covered that material. 

that some of its noisiest authorities insist on being received, for good or for evil,

Never let your writing lapse into moral ambiguity, Charles. While it's true that the AP English class will be studying "Les Miserables", here we want to stick to basics. Remember, you can't be The Polar Express until you've mastered being The Little Engine That Could! 

in the superlative degree of comparison only. 

This last sentence seems muddled to me, Charles. Did you mean "degree" as an indicator of the season, as brought up in your earlier line?  Moreover, all comparisons should best be accomplished by means of simile and metaphor, not by flat statement. 

Charles, don't be discouraged. We all err! You've made a fine beginning here, and with work and patience (and listening in class instead of drawing stick figure soldiers doing battle on the side of the page!) I believe that you can achieve a mastery of basic writing skills! Keep at it. I very much look forward to helping you to learn and improve as the school year continues! 

C+

_____________

for Diving Into Margins over at Dverse, with Queen Cool Dora.

Music: 10,000 Maniacs You Happy Puppet

 

Equi Feri

 

We came out of the sun like flares

burning out our own memory,

landing like witless baby birds

and handed a brick in the heart before we even knew.

There is the sun, our personal searchlight

calling us not to sell ourselves for nothing. 

We played in traffic, drunk as monkeys,

carrying our Queen Boudica dolls for luck, dodging disaster.

Forever sneaks up, whistling our favorite song,

together with a creepy-crawly to keep us honest.

We have tried to express all of this, bright horses nickering

in the Earthbound Barn but meant for the roses, headlong, guided by the stars.

___________

for Word Garden Word List--Klara and the Sun 

Music: Junior Brown Surf Medley

Word Garden Word List--Klara and the Sun

 

Hello my little automatons, and welcome to this week's Word List!  I've recently finished reading a marvelous novel by Kazuo Ishiguro entitled Klara and the Sun. It's set slightly in the future and is told from the perspective of Klara, an AF, or "artificial friend." She starts out on display in a store but is then purchased and set to her job of watching over and helping an ill girl. 

Klara may be a robot, but she's a very observant one, and--dare I say--she possesses considerable soul; more than many of the humans around her. As things unfold, Klara finds herself on a desperate mission to save Josie, her young charge. I adored this book and recommend it highly.

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new, original poem of our own. Then simply link up, visit others, and then recharge. This prompt remains active until next Sunday when a new one goes up. 

And now, your List:

asleep

barn

birds

boxes

companion

creep

doll

forever

imagine

leaked

memory

oblong

plan

pretend

smile

special

sun

traffic

trolley

window

I Confabulations 5:13-27

 My heart remembers, dear friends, the glad evening

when the davenport did receive my person even as a

mother cradles her firstborn. O happy hour! O time of bliss!

As I watched astonished, I was provided with a magical light

Which emanated--as if from the mansions of Heaven!--

as a glowing loveliness from a device with which I was blessed.

O wide screen! O splendor of high definition! My heart

remembers these wonders and even now, gladness fills me,

Despite the trials which befell me in the fullness of time.

I was given to behold wonders, and amazing scenes,

called "a game show" by the sages whose words were

handed down to me. My heart remembers all these things!

Lifting the golden cheesy triangle of glorious pizza to my lips,

my heart soared as I gave myself unto such debauchery

as cannot be imagined! The devil mozzarella! The imp pep-

peroni! My heart remembers, and quakes with shame!

Hear me, lest wickedness overtake you! Partaketh not of

spicy foods in the hours after the sun's arc has been completed!

My desires ruined me! My merriment furthered my misery!

My heart remembers my unwise and froward acts. O torment!

My heart remembers how I was robbed of any rest, my belly

filled with a burning fire, until I cried out, "Can there be no mercy?

Is there no Pepto in all this miserable and curs-ed land?"

The hours passed as slowly as wisdom to the mind of a fool!

Heed me well, my friends. In sooth, I made my prison with

mine own willfullness! My heart remembers the pleasures,

 the new wine (okay, Coca-Cola), and the mad revelry which 

laid me low, but my stomach remembers sevenfold!  O ruin!

__________

for What's Going On? What the heart Remembers

Music:  Rubber Chicken My Heart Will Go On

Don't Clown on the Waitress

 

Don't clown on the waitress, fool.

She writes in hieroglyphs on a pad made of stardust.

One click of her pen can make you shudder and drool

sucking like a baby on a bread crust.

She takes breakfast orders; the cook creates worlds.

Order an egg and it evolves right on your plate.

Don't clown on the waitress; she's a woman not a girl--

in your orbit, never still, never simple, never late.

Don't pick at the sugar packets or leave your napkin in a wad.

You're going to have to finesse it--no menu, no calorie chart.

Museums will bid on your bacon, at auctions with a nod--

Don't clown on her, just appreciate that you cannot hurry art!

______________

for Word Garden Word List--The Rosie Project. 

Word Garden Word List--The Rosie Project

 

Hello, my Sunday savants, it's time once again for a new Word List! This time our source is Graeme Simsion's delightful 2013 novel, The Rosie Project. Yes, as is often the case, I am late to the party; in fact, the Rosie franchise has spawned several sequels since this original. In fact, I would likely never have picked this book to read at all if not for that personable Canadian booktuber booksaresick, who recommended it. (He also recommended--and I read--John Green's Looking For Alaska, another one I would likely never have read, and would have been better off for it, except for knowing that I won't be reading any further John Green novels, their popularity be damned.) But, back to The Rosie Project. 

Graeme Simsion

It's a rom-com of a different color, featuring a hidebound genetics professor who doesn't realize that he's an "aspie" and whose Asperger's Syndrome makes it seem to make sense to him to find a wife by using a lengthy and extremely specific questionnaire to weed out the smokers, vegans, slobs, etcetera. Naturally, this fails spectacularly, but when he meets the completely unsuitable (as per his questionnaire) Rosie, a delightful and very funny romance begins. 

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new, original poem of our own. Then simply link up, visit others, and then find yourselves bewitched by someone out of left field, or by a book like The Rosie Project. 

And now, your List!

arms

art

breakfast

clown

correct

dance

emotional

fever

finesse

freeze

glass

mania

museum

normal

overload

popped

project

reminding

swings

wad

In the House of Time and Mirrors

 

A woman I used to be got up out of her grave

trailing rose vines and the scent of men's cologne.

She swung the decades on a knotted ribbon

and said, "There you are, more wounded, more brave."

I replied that I am made of newspaper and moondust,

a castle composed of carnations and  wives' tales.

Meet my lover, incorporeal and not yet born--

she admires my home-baked bread and scent of must.

A woman I used to be gifted me a moue

useless and juvenile, then beat me with her 

limited beauty. "You are wise but ugly," she 

said, haughty and stupid, then looked away. 

A woman I used to be got up out of her grave

trailing rose vines and the scent of men's cologne.

I swung her head from an antique silver chain

and said, "Here you are, more wounded every day."

_________

January

 

I said to January,

just born and tilting like an upset vase

between heartbeat and nothingness,

"Borrow my hands

to hold yourself here. Rock yourself

into this motherless place."

Summer is an orange

in sections, skin as thin as a pulse,

her bright dress never meant for us. 

I said to January

with her hair of stars and darkness,

"You were born to grace the river ice."

January said to me,

"There is one kimono, spun of morning silence--

wrap with me inside it, as pleasure does with melancholy."

We slept and were steeped

in both love and loneliness. When she vanished,

I kept both and went on, into what was, and would be.

_______________

Shared with What's Going On?