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Today I am

deeply grateful

because thankfulness

is a fleeting,

fickle feeling.

But gratitude?

Well, gratitude

has attitude

and lasts for more

than just a day.




sometimes it’s a look
a spark of recognition
no longer strangers
kindred of my spirit tribe
who understands…just because

not my flesh and blood
but every bit a special soul
gracing my reality


A Tanka/Senryu for Colleen Chesebro’s Tuesday Poetry Challenge using synonyms for the prompt words: Thanks – grace, recognition and Family – blood, kindred, tribe.

A Proposition or Two

For Jane Dougherty’s A Month with Yeats – Day Twenty-One Poetry Challenge. I have been indulging my inner warrior with these challenges, but lest you think I am a total bitch for the cause of justice, I do have a tender romantic side. I am a many faceted wonder, if I don’t say so myself. At any rate I have felt a bit guilty for subjecting you to my rants without softening it with a bit of fluff every now and again. So today, as yesterday, I give you two takes on today’s prompt verse from Yeats’, ‘The Ragged Wood’. Both are wrapped around the theme of propositions.  Happy Tuesday!

‘…by water among the trees
The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh’ —W.B. Yeats

A Proposition

sunrise comes but once a day
rise with me before it breaks
I’ll make tea; we’ll have some cake
and watch the darkness slip away
I can share my dreams with you
your secrets, promise them to keep
dear, we have all night to sleep
but only dawn to see this view
I propose a kiss, perhaps a swoon
long before the busy, bustled hurry
leave it all to someone else’s worry
we could even linger until noon


And a proposition of a very different kind…in my favorite form…the Cleave (three poems in one. Read column 1 (which are actual quotes of a certain certain), then column 2, finally both columns together top to bottom)

He Said…She Said

I moved in on her / i couldn’t believe it
Very heavily…like a bitch / that son of a bitch
but I couldn’t get there / i was frozen
I’m automatically attracted to beautiful / he just kept coming
Like a magnet / that disgusting face
I don’t even wait / forcing his slimy lips on mine
You can do anything / with those tiny hands
Grab em by the pussy / everywhere…all over me
When you’re a star / no one would believe me though
they let you do it / i’m not rich, or a man
But nobody has more respect / so i just keep my distance
Such a nasty woman / i’ll keep this to myself
She’s certainly not hot / it’s so embarrassing
Why does she keep interrupting? / he could ruin me
There’s nothing I love more than women / it’s just the way things are


Magnetic Poetry Monday

we are not promised
a charmed life with
no cares…everyone has
a sad song to sing
but there is always something
to be thankful for
each day is a gift filled
with thousands of moments,
tiny bits of joy and light
to hold us through the night


Magnetic Poetry – Love Kit

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 19 November 2017

I’ve noticed a trend in my poetry of late. I am generally easy-going and have even been accused of being too optimistic. That girl is still in there behind my baby-blues somewhere, but extreme times call for extreme measures, and in my case, poetry and prose. I am grateful to have a voice in the midst of the madness. It’s gets the scary thoughts out of my head. Sometimes I can even manage a bit of wit to soften the angst. But if I didn’t have words…I am sure I’d be a mess. I do find moments to take in the scenery. The good stuff. To snuggle my fur kids. To settle my spirit with a warm cup of tea. Though I take the state of our world very seriously, I don’t extend that intensity when it comes to myself. It’s always good to laugh at that face in the mirror when her brow becomes too furrowed.

And so…I do want to thank you, the readers of my rants, for indulging me. I am encouraged by your occasional “yeah!” and “I feel the same way” comments. Some things just need saying and reading out loud to take the edge off. I am daily reminded that we are all in this together.

Peace to you.

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 19 November 2017

penetrating every crevice
we have only ourselves
hearts afraid of shadows, quaking
they say ‘twas old age that stopped his heart
flickering remnants of once starry nights
but she still loves with grace to spare
breezes smoky, spice-infused
willing to face demons, armed with truth
time is too too short
once they were trees
landed in a thud
a life alone, not death, to fear
the gullible gush
Those pigs! They are flying…fleeing in droves,
the day’s madness
promise of sweetness,
the deepest peace
blush of healing…
Survival’s a game that so few of them win.


A shi sai or ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the shi sai features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.

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