Posts for June 24, 2019 (page 6)

The story is true

Yes, Pink Elephants are real

Know how to catch one?

Pink, Pesky, Playful

Persistence will be required

You know what to do!

First you bake a cake

(Gluten free is not required)

Twelve by twelve by twelve

You must lure them in

The cake gets their attention

But you must have more

You need a raisin

Not an ordinary one

Juicy it must be

Ripe and succulent

Pachyderms seek perfection

They just LOVE raisins!

Once they get the scent

Their trunks held high in the air

Trumpeting is heard

Joyfully they come

With the raisin as their goal

They approach with care

First they sniff the cake

Surrounding the precious treat

Then they all jump in!

They leap and frolic
Dancing with great abandon
Crumbs between their toes

Could it be? Oh yes!

The raisin’s in the center

Yummy as can be!

Blissful, contented

Their pinkness easy to see

You must catch one now!

If they get anxious

Their pinkness will fade away

It’s time for action!

Hurry! Don’t delay!

If they’re stressed, you’re out of luck

They will all turn gray 

when we finally get our 
emerald moss covered yard 
i want a black cat 
me squatting on the porch 
hoping to catch its footfalls 
each step is a secret 
even with my eyes closed 
i know you’re coming closer
zig zagging across the turf 
a sleek dark making 
its way towards me

For a moment

everything was me.

The walls were breathing.

All of these strangers had my life,

because a butterfly

flapped it’s wings

just a little differently.

I was the butterfly too.

My body melted into molecules,

dancing, pulsing, burning.

All sensation.

All pleasure and pain.

I have no body,

but tuck in the womb.

screaming

I want my life.

I want my beautiful

messy life.

I roll and thrash.

Of course I do.

I am my mother,

patting my back.

God keeps opening

and closing doors.

She winks at me,

looking at herself in a mirror.

Life imitates art.

The great Wizard of Oz

pulls back the curtain.

I laugh

I am not quite sure

what laughter even is.

It sounds well and full.

I let it wave through my ears.

I am the music.

I watch the woman

dance before the fire.

She…

I wink

for the first

and infinite time.

April Showers

Gazing out the window,
wishing I could go outside,
but it’s pouring.  Broken petals
from the blooming “wisteria”
cascade to the ground.
No coat, no umbrella,
just stomping in the puddles
tramps Missy Johnson.  What
are her parents thinking?

People in Winchester apparently do not like recycling, just something I’ve noticed. Religion is still Uber important, given the facts, they still control what you can, and can’t put into your body on a Sunday. Small government is what they want, as long as you do what they want. Which means they are the awful people who don’t realize their beliefs in fake gods effect other people….so in essence, hypocrisy.