Footprints In The Sand

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Frank, from aFa, has challenged us to write based on this picture! With 150 words or less, Frank has also written a story. Read Frank’s tale, and the stories from all participating by going to On Footprints in the Sand!

She’s gone.

Was she carried away by the lake shore’s breeze, while I shopped for a new summer dress? I admit the one I found is simply divine. Could she have been swept into the trees?

I so wanted her to see the fiery frock, and the summer wind blowing my hair about the non-existent shoulders of the garment’s mastery.

Soon, a wave will come and wash her printed feet and circling echos from the beach. The only way is out, and be free!

I sink my feet into the sand, then walk away. For in the sand so fickle,  nothing dwells; not even a castle.

© Resa McConaghy

IMPERMANENCE 2

poeturja

I follow this wonderful WordPress blog that visually records some of the finest street art ever seen.  I noticed a section titled “RIP” and was sad to see that so many of these wonderful paintings are destroyed.  Please see and like Resa’s blog at https://graffitiluxandmurals.com/r-i-p/comment-page-1/#comment-15254

Adapted from my poem “IMPERMANENCE” published in Parallel Universe Café and Other Poems 2015

We are all merely a Buddhist sand painting

A created, colorful mandala

Years in the making

Seconds in the melding

Of individual grains

With the earth, water, wind and fire

Anicca

Existence is

Transient

Evanescent

Inconstant

I understand the analogy

Just cannot accept it…

© 2015 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja) Parallel Universe Café and Other Poems

IMAGE: Even Teenage Vampires Cry (artists unknown)

R.I.P.

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A Friend In Trouble

Petals Unfolding

I was just notified this morning that a good friend of mine, Irene (IreneDesign2011), is very ill in a hospital in her city.  Her daughter, Claire, requested help from me to get the word out that her Mother needs prayer, Light and Energy, good thoughts, sent now.  If any of you know Irene will you please reblog this post and assist me to get to as many of Irene’s friends as possible so they know about this situation?

The following is the exact message Claire, Irene’s daughter requested I write in this post:

“I am not sure who is reading this but I hope it is read by Irene’s friends and followers.  I am her daughter, my name is Claire, and would like to give you an update on this story.  As I cannot guess her password to the computer, I cannot write a separate post for you to receive…

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For Resa and her brave words…1 photo (of me)

I admire this person. I am working towards our ideals. You ain’t seen nothing , yet!

Rethinking Life

Because of Resa, at graffitiglam.wordpress.com

I took my second “selfie.”  The first one was for the cover of my book.  Anyway, Resa and I were writing to each other about how women feel that they have to hide, as they age.  That they feel bad about themselves.  She did a wonderful post on a Vera Wang wedding dress, colored by street artists.  I told her to put the dress on, take her picture, and post it.  She said something about being too old (she’s actually young).  I said that if I lived closer I would put it on (because I am old) and she could take my picture.  Unfortunately, I live in the US and she lives in Canada.  But what she wrote made me think.  Two days ago I asked Melanie to delete a photo I texted to her of Justin’s graduation…because I’m in the picture. She understood and…

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Telepathic Gonzo

Yet, another piquing gem by Charlie!

Charlie Zero The Poet

Raoul!
You telepathic gonzo –
You don’t need
eyes, mouth, ears.
Grow 6 hands, cover them.

Blindfold the impression mystics.

Sir, Balanovski
taints truth –
amaryllis shedding
despondency
sensitivity
a misguided statistic.

Of museums
fixing the fiction god extrasensory…

Art pettifogging…
Art targets shock…

Bias Thompson
your wisdom deflating –
walls atrophied, Babylon dehisced.

To the decoy protagonist –
oh! Steal profanities continuity.
Pornography toad’s
chess play to a battle mating season
and suddenly Sinclair decries ultimatum?

Randomize controversy, this thing we call percent.

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Zero the Poet

All rights Reserved.

No part of Telepathic Gonzo – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links…

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The Bookshop

Booknvolume

shakinThis blog post is brought to you from the mind of Ste J, book defender/lover/obsessive, knowledge seeker and occasional afternoon napper who can be found https://bookmust.wordpress.com and is always happy to make your acquaintance.

The Bookshop

I

Entering the gateway

quaint handle and ring of the bell

a friendly greeting and the musty scent

that pleasantly assails the senses

II

A world of infinite dreams surrounds

of pirates, distant worlds and lavish parties

each crafted teaming with life and imagination

all waiting to be explored and devoured

III

The ages gather here too

ordered casually together

side by side

covered in dusty patience

IV

Time moves differently here

slowly…

the world outside ceases to be;

the perfect existence

V

And now there is just you

and sound of pages turning

the crackling breaking the silence

adding to that unrivalled atmosphere

Save

Save

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Painted Word

I was right

picpoem-3

Of your words, as

I attempted

To climb,

It was up a

Ladder, rung by rung to

Your rhyme.

The ladder stopped short

Of your prose, and

Understanding naught

I froze.

picpoem-2

To the left

Revealed steps, where

A hidden garden hung

Upon its end.

An invisible door

Closed it to my whim, and

I Understood

With my bones

That I was not

Allowed in.

picpoem-1

The center,

The only hope from

The heart, portrayed

Two worlds

Juxtaposed. So

I leapt through

The image, and

Wondrously heard

You paint your

Thoughts, out loud,

With one clever word.

⭐ ⭐ Inspired by & written for: Charlie Zero, the Poet  ⭐ ⭐

Pics taken by Resa – July, 2016

Poem © Resa McConaghy – December, 2016

Note to Self

When I was younger

resaphoto1

I had hunger

Thunder

Wonder

Blundered.

I laughed harder

Thought louder

Not prouder

Just wondered.

Now older

I smoulder

For a shoulder, when

I feel colder.

 Note to self.

Embrace the

Frightening

Lightening

And brightening

Of a morning!

Note to self.

Pic of Resa taken many years ago by a very talented photographer. I can’t thank her enoughfor this fabulous memory!