Voiced thoughts. Jungle dark ladder trees scrub stars
 above a listing wall where lies forked bones.     
 Isolated fear wild, laughing clowns slip 
 through a gate where stand four weary lions mad
 for dungeons bled by matadors from Spain.        
 Shepherd this one around hard, cold, clay floor   
 until the skin falls off dead arms and hands        
 meet along the beach before sweet music shouts 
 ole! deeply shielded castles sunk in sand.           
 Shadowed ghosts shake pink broken shells along  
 mind's waves with lying tongues of fortunes near     
 upon the crash of silver waves spooned lives
 drag wisdom's treasure chest pass shipwrecked souls
 waltz inside a ballroom marbled with glass.
      









Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Catherine E. Mckinley had a deep desire to know about Indigo. It became her purpose.

Image
"We watched the woman disappear into the bend of the road. It was unsettling. She seemed possessed, driven by some mimetic force. I was afraid that that force was also a part of me. I was also a worshiper, set wandering in an unfamiliar land."   It seems this week I have been driven to write about my mother. It has happened more than once. Here she is again. Tapping my shoulder a reminder that she loved blue. There is the one and only photo of her where she wears a dress of blue. The photo was taken years and years ago. In the photo are my two nephews, my mother and myself.. The photo was taken in West Philadelphia. She sewed it. A light blue that now I wish to call "Indigo." I have much to learn about Indigo. It is easy to pick up on the author, Catherine E. Mckinley's, fervent love for the color. One day my son asked me my favorite color. I said, "I don't have one." I don't. Perhaps, I choose colors by mood. Today red  and tomorrow green,
Read more

First Chapter First Paragraph

Image
http://www.bibliophilebythesea.blogspot.com Closed until June 13     "Michael Hunter stared at the hand-lettered sign on the Gull Motel office, expelled a breath, and raked his fingers through his hair. Not the welcome he'd been expecting after a mind-rumbling thirty-six-hour cross-country drive to the Oregon coast. And where was he supposed to stay for the next three weeks, until the place opened again?"
Read more

Are these the types of lives we are seeing and reading about in the news today?

Image
"The difference between life and death was information:..the greatest danger was not the river, but the desert beyond. There the temperatures were so hellish they melted stones, there was no water, and they could be preyed upon by scorpions, wildcats, and hungry real coyotes...Rattlesnakes, as well as coral, moccasin, and darting indigo snakes, came out to hunt at night, the time when the migrants set off, because the daytime heat was lethal." isabelallende
Read more