everyday amazing

Pink blooms

2013-05-18T13:01:00.000-04:00

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

pink blooms

bursting like waves

upon the cold spring breeze

garlands weave, casting aside leaves
and modesty, like sassy show troupers-
painting the sky iridescent-

i drink in your beauty

-swift as sunset-

pink blooms

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Sunday Mini-challenge - Rictameter
This is 9 line poem with the following rhyme scheme - 2-4-6-8-10-8-6-4-2 and the first and last lines are the same.

Fleeting as cherry blossoms

2013-05-14T13:59:00.001-04:00

Cherry tree by Grace @ Everyday Amazing

your pink beauty

- fleeting as spring butterflies-

pierces and awes-

even the wind rushes

to inhale your ripe blossoms,

fragrant and alluring -

but the sun
is quicker to steal you away-
soon, petals fall in quick-silver hush -

fading your last kiss

- soft as melting snow -
lingering hard on my throat

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the visit ~ Sadly, all the blooms from the Japanese trees are gone ~

Violet blooms

2013-05-12T08:51:00.000-04:00

drink this cup

steeped of violet blooms, soothing
heart's bitter aches

Legends of Violets

take these blooms-

hued of rain and spring love-

yours to keep -

Petunia Surfina Violets

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Violets

~ Wishing you all Happy Mother's Day ~

A prelude

2013-05-08T12:59:00.000-04:00

The mid day heat is intoxicating

As bright colored banners wave

From streets posts, playing tag with children,
Unrestrained in their merriment as elders begin their tales-

The best plates are piled neatly on the table,

Laden with smoked-cured meat, rice-rolled sweets,

Coconut- stirred vegetables, seasoned milk fish & ripe papayas

He boasts proudly to his grown children, I can eat anything-

Outside the bees gather & swoop down

Bougainvillea vines, buzzing, oblivious to ruckus of

Flies swarming over pitted seeds & chicken bones-

The anticipation of the feast is palpable in the air-

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Kerry's Challenge - The Prelude

and Poetry Jam - Buzz on Bees

Prelude

1. (noun) An introductory performance, event, or action preceding a more important one; a preliminary or preface.

Picture credit: here

m(a)ystery of the woman

2013-05-04T14:56:00.000-04:00

the night labels you a man-eating monster,
supernatural creature who eats fetus
with a long tongue, shapeshifter-
half-woman and half-animal,
dismembered torso, wings black as a devil-
hunted and shunned-
a witch !

chants, by white-collared friars with heavy rosaries-
gossips, by greedy male traders with western swagger-
they all lie in wait to shackle you to a box, plain & mute-
until you feel ashamed of your virile nakedness - breasts,
face, legs, you cover everything in modesty,
veiled, hidden, tempered steel,
a diminished star.

but don't you remember -
you were worshipped like the sun - a goddess:
fertile, propagating & naming children, like mother nature
you were the pact holder, mediator of the tribe,
the healer, believing in the power of cure in leaves & fruits-
you fought for your rights & freedom-
now, wake up & wear your skin,
your words have magic, you are
a queen !

Gabriela Silang

First woman general who fought against the Spanish invaders

in the 18th century.

Posted for: D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics - Myths

I watched this interesting documentary by a Canadian on a popular Asian myth of vampire folklore in the Philippines. I was struck with the idea that native women rebelled against the tight structure of Spanish Catholic religion and way of life. In the early centuries, native women were powerful priestess, rulers and well respected guardians in the tribal community.

Manananggal

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ePhqoyLpXQ

On(c)e - the rain forest

2013-05-03T13:44:00.000-04:00

Amazon's poison frog

here, the sky is my ceiling-
mountains feed me
while the rain quenches my thirst-

the medicine man knows the
healing powers of each leaf
& roots in this forest-

which is always birthing,
crackling, rustling of wet wings,
hiss, scuttle and rush of feet across the floor-

here, i soak the spirit of the old trees
with wide bellies and broad limbs,
inhale the fresh air, heal the weary eyes....

do you hear that ?
the grinding teeth-
pulling roots, breaking limbs, ripping of lungs-

until there is only the deadly
silence -

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Transforming Friday
and Poetry Jam - Soak

More information on the disappearing rain forest: here

of awakening

2013-04-30T09:44:00.000-04:00

spring is upon us-
suddenly, tiny green buds
drench the garden, fragrant & new -

but this is not a tender season,
as seeds wrestle against the complacent soil
& stale cold air, there are cuts to the fingers-

bruises on the knees, bumps on the sides-
scars, long and deep, forever altering the face
but great is the desire to take first breath, pure & raw

rising against gravity, colliding with the wind,
tearing away from its bed, sharply, violently,
an awakening -

Klaas Fidom of Zoom

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - starting Tuesday at 3pm EST ~ Thanks for the visit ~

the day commute

2013-04-27T14:31:00.000-04:00

Reena of Missing Moments

i wake up. third alarm.
eat cereals and milk. pack a meal.
tidy the kitchen. catch the bus. same corner seat.

drop coins for the subway train. down the metal steps.
find a seat. listen to the grating of wheels. spitting of sands.
gnashing of teeth along the worn city tracks.

office grinds. smelling of coffee & bagel. a day old.
i sit on weary chair. listen to papers shuffle. wires tripping themselves.
ink of printers & fax machines. swallowing the minutes.

there is a blankness.
swimming through my veins. polluting the liver.
clogging the nose. sharpening each paper cut on my fingers.

i wonder where this tunnel ends.
and begins. to another journey. unedited & unrestrained.
click. tick. click. snap back into the frame.

third alarm. i wake up.

Posted for D'verse Poets - Poetics: Trip the Poem - Hosted by Karin Gustafson. We are having a gorgeous weekend. Spring is finally here ~

The last night of the full moon

2013-04-25T13:59:00.000-04:00

Klaas Fidom of Zoom

the cold wind sweeps the night sky like a clock with callous hands-
undaunted, the last rose blooms flaunting skin, ripe and hungry-
i am not ready to say goodbye the moon, sated, edges to dawn's death

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Sijo poem - 3 lines (14-14-18) - total must be between
44-46 syllables
And Real Toads - Hello/Good-bye

Structure of the sijo poem:
Lines 1 and 2 are written in four phrases of syllables counted as follows: 3 - 4 || 3 - 4 with a major pause at the end of the line (i.e. no enjambment) and a total of 14 syllables per line.

Line 3 is also written in four phrases of syllables counted: 3 - 6 || 4 - 3 to a total of 16 syllables.

Some leeway is allowed within this structure but the end result should be between 44 and 46 syllables.

Special thanks to Showers of Roses

April's madness

2013-04-20T10:54:00.000-04:00

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

i am caught-
in the tug of war,
between winter's gray
and spring's budding steps-

this month is madness,
twining of beginnings & endings-
red as birthday candles on a cake,
white as a corsage on a friend's funeral-

my hands are frayed,
fragile like bare twigs-
fearful of the hardening that comes
with each fallen leaf, torn limb & broken pinecone-

i pray for rain to wash away dread & shadows,
the sun to melt away the stones
gathering in my heart-
even if snowflakes
drift this morning, i hope

for spring to burst open like a river,
greening the garden, trodden down & bloodless cold-

Posed for: D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics of spring - We are having a little bit of snow this weekend.
and Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Encouragement

One sunny afternoon

2013-04-14T18:56:00.000-04:00

The White Boat by Joaquin Sorolla (1905)

white boat
tugs the children:
let us sail to the sea--
treasures await us. the sky calls-
bluest

of clouds,
cradling waters
warmed by shells, weeds & crabs-
buoying the children on its womb,
they're off--

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Sunday Challenge: Joaquin Sorolla
and Poets United
Poetry form: cinqauin (2-4-6-8-2 syllabic count)

The monsters

2013-04-13T14:51:00.000-04:00

Are under my bed,
curled tight every night-
behind cereal boxes,
shoved deep in the closet-
on top of shelves,
just beyond my books-

They are always noisy,
growling loud as
hungry pangs in my stomach,
angrily stomping the floor,
as if wretched with waiting-
slow burning of calories-

Refusing to melt away,
they chatter about tight
jeans & hot bikini pieces.
One day, I look hard
in the mirror: double chin, big arms, fat legs-
a girl, who can't face her monsters-

Image from Tumblr - Whydoes-Nobody-Understand

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub: Poetics - Monsters - Hosted by Brian Miller - I came across this image in Tumblr and it saddened me to read the blog of a young woman who hates herself and her body.

A street poem

2013-04-13T09:43:00.000-04:00

I walk on the street,
the sky is caught between grey &
faint blue pages-

It is mid-April,
the city stores are selling spring
colored shoes & clothes,

I imagine would be great
if I am going to Italy or Jamaica
for week of summer fun & escape

But I am working this summer
and saving money for a college plan-
As I trudge & sit in the red bus

I start thinking of lines to write -
-Where the sea meets my toes, like an inkwell-
-Where a narrow road leads to a Gothic tower-

But they all end up with this orange, round & firm
in my hand. So, I peel it slowly like a book.
It tasted sweet, like the sun.

Toronto City

Picture credit: here

Posted for: Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - Inspired by writings of Billy Collins - Accessible Poetry

Playing havoc

2013-04-12T12:27:00.001-04:00

Art by Chelsea Bednar

Stress, layered thick--
time, blurred, falling like bricks,
enclosing on me--

My mind coils and recoils
like hammering nails,
refusing to stop-- stop, STOP!

Escape from depression,
Where are my pills?
Pull this madness- away, AWAY!

I put the canvas aside,
and start all over -
this bloodletting ritual

I can't let go.

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Artistic Interpretations with Margaret

Author's Note: I attended a session yesterday on Drugs/Health Management and I was aghast on the extent the pharmaceutical companies have partnered with doctors to prescribed brand and expensive drugs to "treat" depression & diseases for patients.

The speaker who worked for the pharmaceutical company and then move to our insurance industry said, "There is no solid evidence that our mind is chemically unbalanced." Let us address the stress and start eating and living a normal healthy life, free from dependency on drugs. You can read more here.

Blooming

2013-04-10T08:19:00.000-04:00

you once stuffed coins &

colored stones, gems you

said, in your pockets--

but today, as I red-letter

the ice cream strawberry

cheese-cake and light it

with bright candles-

I see a blooming rose,

priceless gem in our eyes -

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

Happy Special day to my youngest~

*Thanks so much for all the birthday greetings!*

Posted for: Poets United - Colored & Poetry Jam - What's In Your Pocket

into another world

2013-04-07T09:43:00.000-04:00

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

Running

into the woods -

pine cones crunch, twigs snap, leaves-

a soft carpet, a bird trills and -

I'm lost-

Wordsworth Quote:

“Books! tis a dull and endless strife:
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music! on my life,
There's more of wisdom in it.”
― William Wordsworth, Wordsworth: Poems

Posted for: Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - A birthday in April - and Going Outside
and Poetry Pantry
Poetry form: Cinquain (2-4-6-8-2 syllabic count)

Squeak NOT a protest

2013-04-06T14:35:00.000-04:00

the g-r-o-a-n-i-n-g
was so LOUD,
an old man
yoked by his burden,
grasping for a/i/r-

i will do something about it,
hubby said

the next morning, after setting
the clothes to dry, i {wait}
for the sounds--
hum~drum~hum~drum~hum~
a mild protest
akin to the wind, wearily blowing
dry the soggy fields--

i ask my hubby what he did,
knowing his knack for youtube search-
how:to:repair:anything?:

well, i had a conversation w/
the dryer--

he began-
i already fiXed the water pipe,

then with a [gentle]
kick on its side-

do NOT give me any #problems !!!

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Anecdote -Hosted by Kelvin S.M.

Happy Weekend ~ Thanks for the visit ~

To crucify your mind

2013-04-05T15:15:00.005-04:00

Detroit singer Sixto Rodriguez's sweet voice and socially conscious lyrics made him a legend in apartheid-era South Africa. This photo appears on the cover of his second album, Coming from Reality (1971).

I was born for a purpose -
to mock your words & actions
Narrow framed, a circus of white lies -
  I thrust this light, causing a chain reaction
You could not find my carcass
Nor my guitar to silence the attraction
My music rose in the streets & old churches
To tell a gospel truth, freedom, my soul's passion-

Posted for: Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Thanks to Marian for introducing his music to us ~ Shared with Poets United: First Verse - Body
Picture credit: here

about this job

2013-04-04T14:46:00.001-04:00

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

Toronto City

the irony

of having a job in the big city

is that you are always thinking of escape-

beyond the shiny walls of mailboxes & files,

above the clutter of cubicles, chairs & black wires-

to rise like soapy bubbles from

rinsing dirty cups and teaspoons in the kitchen sink-

to drift like maple leaves, brown & careless

in the wind, as you drive along the busy freeway-

people peer at windows, hungry for the open sky

they talk about beginnings - vacations in sunny

shores & retiring in the cottage, by the blue lake -

eagerly counting the day they fly away from this

everyday grind of bread & debts - a pipe-dream

as we cleave to our desks, like grateful worker bees,

meekly eating the piece of the lemon pie,

swallowing down fears that at anytime, one of us

can be crumpled away, like a grease-balled

sandwich wrapper-

Posted for: D'verse Poets Pub

Poetry on Keningston pole

2013-04-01T08:14:00.003-04:00

Art in Public, Toronto City

String the words
pinned on the pole - poetry
on the go -

Sky, storm, airport -
art is everywhere, inhale, exhale -
love, an Oxygen -


Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - OpenLinkNight -
Poetry form: Lune - 3/5/3 words per line

Sleeping beauty

2013-03-30T17:19:00.000-04:00

Beauty lies deathly pale in her sleep,
Forgotten by apple trees & lovers on the hill
Winter keeps a close guard over her tiny frame,
Her skin so white, with hair of darkest night-
Her lips so red, bewitched by
summer's end-

One April day, he walks into the forest
The sun greets him like a reluctant flame
Melting the veil of secrets, capturing his eyes-
He comes close and kisses Beauty's lips,
so cold like ice-

Beneath his fierce embrace,
She takes her first breath, coming
Alive with the softest shade of pink -
The wood trembles, like a tide turning
In mid-stream, her eyes awake, so blue,
the anguish of a storm-

Then, she heaves again, failing
Like a weary bloom, deadly is the frosty
Wind that bites on delicate skin,
Color of an unripened apple,
too early, too soon -

He could not awaken her -
Not with words nor songs from the robins-
So he places white tulips & pine cones
On her chest, and tuck back her long hair.
Shutting down the coffin, he leaves the forest,
A lonely traveler, perplexed with
false spring -

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub and Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Happy Easter ~
Shared with Poets United Picture credit: here

A sign, maybe

2013-03-26T09:07:00.000-04:00

Maybe it is the sign of spring

When I see a pair of geese honking

Above the trees, a trumpet heralding a new morning

Maybe they bring tidings from the south,

Grains from river, sticks from orange trees,

The colors of the sun, bursting like pink tulips

Maybe they hear waves turning under the full moon,

Unmistakable beat of a primal dance, lost to me in my city shoes-

Beautiful as an infant’s cry, thrilling a mother’s heart

As white wings soar, remembering the path-

Their faith, steadfast in the unpredictable skylight-

Where heading for home, a beginning-

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - While going to work, I saw a pair of geese flying overhead our office. There is a group of them that comes back every year, and the females would nest on the same spot, the plant box at the back parking lot. Well, let's hope spring is just around the corner.

Picture from Tumblr.com

Not to be reproduced

2013-03-24T10:19:00.000-04:00

Not to be Reproduced, 1937 by the Belgian surrealist René Magritte

You insist on the same pose -
straight as a rod, black-suited in the light,
dark hair, neatly assembled as piano keys-

But I am not cut from the same mold -
see the lines on my face & hands, colored
of earth, the grooves & stooped shoulders-

See this working bee, a farmer, a painter
with greasy hands, working on my canvas,
learning the difference of each planted seed-

Posted for The Mag 161 - Happy Sunday ~

A reflection of her beauty

2013-03-21T20:04:00.000-04:00

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

Keningston Market, Toronto

A flower blooms-
lavender, perfumed cheeks-
boldly inking the walls with stories
- bloody-birthed, coarse as salt
from far-away shores-

Leaves grow with curried veins,
Underneath myriad of colors
- a heartbeat pulses-
A tree, standing in the muddy river-

Sunlight reflects her beauty,
fragmented yet uniquely whole-
- this city,
built on immigrants' dreams-

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Stretching Comparisons
and Poetry Jam - Reflections -

I saw Mona Lisa in Black & White

2013-03-19T06:52:00.000-04:00

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

Kensington Market, Toronto

her face-
above the street,
littered with signs & dirt,
reminds pedestrians that ART/
ist lives here -

breathes color, ye//ow & ripe
as red papaya in summer-
s h a p i n g brick walls into
living canvas, where seeds grow/

e-X-p-l-O-d-i-n-g
to fruits,

freely
BE/
neath the sky-

Posted for OpenLinkNight of D'verse Poets Pub ~ Thanks for the visit ~ Happy day ~