One of Many gods

Posted: September 13, 2016 in Uncategorized

- Rob Woodcox
photo from mindlovemisery

(Soapbox day – I’m not real smart about politics. I’m not even very good about thinking, it wasn’t taught to me, I mean, logic and figuring things out rationally. But, I am good at asking questions of myself about what I believe. My convictions have changed over the years – about many things and I’m still questioning. But, I think that is a good thing.)


Nationalism is one of our pantheon gods
Her name is holy. Her banner sacred.
We worship with song of praise
to her name. We proclaim her identity
as the greatest in the world. In. The. World.

Kaepernick, what’s wrong with you man?
You making the big bucks in this land and
you won’t stand for her? Patriots won’t
take that lying down… you owe her man,
big time. She is the dream, the way, the truth,
the light, the life, Christian Nation…

“”Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Oh, the irony.

You think I’m dissing her? Think taking a knee is dissing her?
No, just the people who mindlessly follow the clichéd crowd,
not the land’s fault, it is her fallen ideals, the people
in their self-made, tiny box of ‘privilege’ who will
not see, venture to ponder, dare to admit the caste
system in America. She’s a great, imperfect lady.
Let’s make her great
like she’s never before been.

poem for mindlovemisery and imaginarygarden

Everyone has an opinion about Kaepernick. This is just mine. I’m not proud of my country but I love America. I don’t believe in every war but I’m proud of the men and women who have given their service, and many their lives, to defend her.  I’m thankful that we have the freedom to speak our beliefs even though many want to deny other’s that very right. We all belong to a race – it’s called Human. Now if we could act it.






Posted: September 9, 2016 in Uncategorized

Image result for ruapehu

withrealtoads Out of Standard – Fire from a Different Sun Imagined By
“The challenge – write a poem about a fire that doesn’t come from flames or the sun.  Bonus points awarded for those who are able to avoid using the words “fire” “flames” or any fiery imagery.”


The mountain rises from the plains

to a snow covered peak, hoary head,

ancient, wise, silently watching from

high in the sky, hikers and skiers,

some unaware, others who dare

her smoldering heart. Beware, she

hints, her crater lake warming.

She giggles a tremor, subtle warning.

You’d never know from her façade

sedate, accommodating, a lady…

the hidden depths of steamy passion

or the hissy fit she about to fashion.



The Palm Wine Tapper

Posted: September 4, 2016 in Uncategorized

imaginary garden Flash 55 PLUS! Imagined By “consider the artworks of the Nigerian painter, sculptor and musician known as Twins Seven Seven.You may peruse his work on WikiArt.Org.”


Wisdom it is to drink the wine

to levitate the heart,

make merry the spirit,

scatter the cares and woes,

celebrate the good

of life occasionally

but folly follows the fool

who drowns all cares

it shall be a curse to thee.

Let wisdom rule

in a cup of cheer

praises to the palm tapper.




Posted: August 31, 2016 in Uncategorized

Image result for man in the moon images
pictures of vintage moon art

dverse Poetics: Moon-muse Posted by Grace 


Luna is a strong woman,
charismatic pull,
empress in the night sky,
a subtle presence by day.

She is an opal with hidden depths,
fire in her soul, she’ll drive you
crazy with desire, a flirt
who’ll break your heart
as her ardor wans

for she is faithful only
to the man in the moon.
He knows his place
and lets her shine
content to be her lover.

Life One Frame at a Time

Posted: August 26, 2016 in Uncategorized


adashofsunny Prompt Nights – A photograph is but a memory in raw format
“… choose a photograph that you like and write a poem or a fiction piece inspired by it.” Sanaa Rizva


Just a click and time frozen in a millisecond
black and white memory of a single moment
and that is me, knitted-cap, winter boots
with my sister, brother and two best friends
and Mike is holding a string of dead rabbits
maybe from a trap or shot by a hunter who
happened to be on the scene and maybe Bessie
or Mom snapped the picture when the man
let my brother hold the rabbits high. We all smiled,
as though death were such a stranger that we didn’t
recognize his occupation. I suppose the man took the
the rabbits and went on his way. We went on to play,
I guess, in the snow as children do. I don’t remember
this slice of time only the picture testifies to its verity
and a sadness washes over me at the loss of it all.
How young we were. We didn’t know a thing
but we would learn, yes, we would learn.


Posted: August 21, 2016 in Uncategorized

how many must I go through
stages of life, each a little more
bewildering than the one before
wants needs desires changing
with each new evolution of self
this present one, a withdrawing
from a Kafkaesque world too real
surreal now I am snug as a bug
in my cocoon but I can’t tell if
this is alteration or degeneration

Write about change. Something changes, one thing becomes another, spare change in your pocket or change of attitude. Would you like to change something about yourself, or someone else? Give your changes a voice. Write about it before you change your mind!

Soul Intuition

Posted: August 15, 2016 in Uncategorized

dashofsunny  Prompt Nights – Intuition’s as though we’re seeing with our soul
Tonight, I want you guys to write down something that has sprung from deep within. Go ahead and follow your intuition. Previously written work is more than welcome.

 Tears come from the heart and not from the brain. Leonardo da Vinci

The right eye of the soul
never closes, is ever seeking.
Vibrations of pomegranate
beads on a bed of saffron
petals against a cobalt sky.

My mind tells me not of God.
It argues, doubts and sneers
Natures tempts me, teases,
tantalizes, yet she is callous
in abstract insinuations.

Let me see Truth waking,
dreaming, skipping, lisping
as I focus my God eye toward you.
Soul to soul let me intuit
what vanity of intellect refuses.


Alchemical Ergon Symbol

Ergon is the spiritual ancient alchemy symbol for the right eye of the soul, by which it looks to the eternal. This symbol allows focus on higher, finer spiritual vibrations. It also ascertains the infinite nature of our soul, and our capability to tap into the infinite universe. (Original post here here)

Song in Minor Key

Posted: August 2, 2016 in Uncategorized


You ask for a song to sum up a life,
song of me, as though I should know
these words and melody not writ down
nor scored on staff paper.
I do not know myself.
Are there those
who can proclaim with assurance
This is me. I am thus and thus, page by page
I can account the totality of I am?

Some days I’m nice, some days I’m not
I’ve been unsure, sure, cocksure
brilliant, stupid, average
and if I say
I am a Christian
born under Cancer
a female

what does that explain
about the me you want me
to sing about?
You’ve waited too late
to ask for my song.
There was a time I loved to talk of me
now it is a most boring thing
to dwell on , and I am tired
of the subject.

But, if you’d like we could
talk all night of William Carlos Williams
or Emily Dickinson or Billy Collins
or Billy the Kid.


Posted: July 29, 2016 in Uncategorized


adashofsunny Prompt Nights – In dreams we enter a world that’s entirely our own
prompt by Sanaa Rizvi


What is a dream but the echo
of a longing, the whisper of fears,
a rendezvous with pleasant memories,
or hurts and heartbreak rent to tears?
We can’t always bear it so we soften
the edges with cyphers, symbols, signs
that oft leave us groping for meaning behind
the shadowy images in our mind.
We wake from one dream and enter another
and who can say which is reality
and which is fantasy?


Star Song

Posted: July 26, 2016 in Uncategorized


mindlovesmisery Photo Challenge #123 prompt by


I dream of flying
to a distant star
straight as an arrow, laser sharp,
projected as an astral avatar.
Your beacon calls me through the night,
tempting me with a siren’s song.
Heavenly muse I long for you
to wrap my soul in song,
embody me with words
sung sweet
to be
a living poem.