Hummingbird in yellow

Original painting by Kim Nelson

On lush greens and yellows
I perch on a branch
filled with nectar & insects 

Flowers bloom in summer sun 
from my wandering bill,
as wings beat rapidly in the air      

Racing heartbeats,
I fly backward and forward 
like spider weaving silken magic

Until tiredness weighs like stones,   

I rest, 
tiny gardener in 
land of giants

Posted for Poetry Jam - We are to write from the point of view of an animal--any animal but a human.   Well I received this painting of the hummingbird in the mail today from Kim Nelson, so I wanted to write and express my thanks for a wonderful painting.   Thanks Kim ~

and Flash Fiction Friday 55 -  A post in 55 words for the G-man.

Hummingbirds do not spend all day flying, as the energy cost would be prohibitive; the majority of their activity consists simply of sitting or perching. Hummingbirds feed in many small meals, consuming many small invertebrates and up to twelve times their own body weight in nectar each day. They spend an average of 10–15% of their time feeding and 75–80% sitting and digesting.

Over capacity

Welcome to Twitter.

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And I am IN the mainstream :
news, gossip, images, messages
like an anxious teenager who doesn't
want to miss the hottest & trendiest topic--

I like LIKE, LIKE all of my FB messages,
One of many 800 million users crowding 
DASHBOARD, like a frantic morse code tapping away--  

I FAVORITE and tweet, ReTWEET,
in the sea of 50 million messages a day, 
faster than a speeding bullet or television news,
folLOW, Follow is a click away-- 

up to the M1nute stream and tap, TAP, 
I have more friends than I ever had
most of whom I have never met (nor will meet) 
face to face--

But it's fine really, I get connected with  
many people from different countries, it's cool
as long as they are not messaging me about buying their Stuff--

hey maybe I can find love too, easily 
Disposable as chat, Post, Poke, Link.....
"We are very sorry.  Our servers are over capacity.."  

REFRESH, DELETE and Just Unfollow 

WhAT, did you say I am miss-
ing the most important thing : 
my REAL life, following my own rules --

reBLoGGing from Tumblr :  

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics: Reaching the Masses

In real life, I am  hardly in FB nor twitter nor tumblr, though I have accounts.  While I find all of these social media intriguing, I am careful not to be overwhelmed nor addicted to it.  But these have changed relationships, both personally and professionally.  

Of wings

You stand at the edge of the field  

Like an eagle inhaling the moment

Of dewdrops in the winter darkness

Under your feet, a garden grows  

Shrubs, vines and flowers  stretching

With each footfall, sure of their direction

Above your sky, a magnificent castle rises

Turrets strike out gold, silver and copper lights

With each spire, an architect’s dream becomes true

Before you, a forest speaks your language.

The moon tide is calling.  A flare leaps like a

Signal from a distant mountain top.

Close your eyes and fall. 

Posted for:  D'verse Poets Pub :   Creativity

Softened earth

Sitana-fan throated lizard

you had me running  

lightning fast across fallen leaves -

weaved of copper and russet gold -

old woods heaved, washed of rain,

strains of birdsong and mating sounds - 

ground is softened earth,  

dearth of salt and sea breeze -

trees rustle as tongues meet,        

wheat-hued sky, bare throats - summer heat 

Picture credit:   here

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Transforming Friday ~

and Sunday's Challenge - Chained Rhyme :   Poetry form:"Linked rhyme (or chained rhyme) chimes the last syllable or syllables of a line with the first syllable or syllables of the next line…" ~  Thanks for the visit ~

Fear

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

The old city burns

All through the day and night

From weight of roads – paved with asphalt, sin-tarred,

Trapped-silt from black tires pressing at every turn.

Inhale the heat and fumes.   Exhale the lake’s leftovers.  

Under the haloed street lights

Buildings squat like sumo wrestlers

Around the manicured garden, littered with plastic cups

Stained of coffee.   Your fear tinders like Last Rites.

To be squished like cigarette butts.  To be forgotten like a leaf.  

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Talking about the Hard Stuff - in 75 words

and D'verse Poets Pub - Form for All - Weave by David James

Blue amnesia

Artist:   Kim Nelson

i'm 
stilled
by pageantry 
      of glorious beauty- 
      perfect sky and words  
      smooth as velvet grapes-   
      you plumed & stained my nights

electric
blue but i
was deceived
      by your ardent pleas- 
      your  breath is steel cold
      on my slim neck, strangling air  

then
descent- 
sharp blow-   
     blue amnesia-     
     slow keeling & fade
     undressed & delirious-  scattered   


     adrift in the sea

Posted for OpenLinkNight of Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (Monday)

and Sunday's Mini-Challenge   
Shared with Poets United

Still restless

inside me lives a restless child 

taller than her mother, daydreams 
bright afternoons of hide and seek
as she pares fruits and salts the soup-

she runs carefree as daffodils 
a restless child inside me, she  
curls like a spring bud reading books,  
writing notes of rebellion and 

thinks about flying into space
as she cleans the dirty dishes - 
inside me lives this child, woman  
of wrinkles and blue tattooed lines -  

she has traveled many roads, now 
smaller than her children, she (still) dreams 
of painting sunsets, catching storms- 
restless- this woman is (still) a child -        


Posted for:  D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics of growing up  ~  Thanks to Stu Mcpherson ~

Poetry form:  Quartern - written in 4 quatrains with a refrain in each successive stanza.   

Inspiration:   Brazilian poet , Ana Lins dos Guimarães Peixoto, Cora Coralina:   All lives -

Ana published her first book when she was 75 years old.       Picture credit:  here                                           

The birds in space

Title and Artist:  M. C. Escher

the birds inked the sky with their plumes  

as if they knew a secret that i don't know of

cut from the same hewn, like school of fish, 

they cocked their heads in perfect angle    

hovering in mid-city sky, taupe and white

wingtips pointing to the same direction & fate  --  

i listen closely, my nostrils prickling at

their steadfast sentiments, the shape of squares   

reminding me of my mother's shawl  

now folded neatly in a drawer with her rosary -- 

shaking their feathers in a final wave,   

i see one thousand birds soaring in unison,

to a place I have yet to go --
leaving me, rooted with questions,

& pondering my next step

Posted for OpenLinkNight of Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - every Monday

and Sunday's Challenge:  Ekphrasis 

and D'verse Poets Pub - every Tuesday

Ekphrasis is the graphic, often dramatic, description of a visual work of art. The word comes from the Greek ek and phrasis, 'out' and 'speak' respectively, and as a verb it means to proclaim or call an inanimate object by name. 

Letters

                                      vintage pages 
                                      scenting of autumn's pines--     
                                      grandma's words echo like bells           

                                                            ~0~0~

                                                            calligraphy
                                                            on torn pages -- 
                                                            canvas of a stormy sky 


Posted for Haiku Heights - Prompt is Script
and Haiku My Heart


Picture credit:   here

OUTside

The view from my cubicle

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

the noise outside
never ceases - whistling, screeching, thundering 
from cars, trucks

going east or west
always fast -
chasing ticking clock

I don't see - 
muting the snowdrops falling, trembling       
like a dove.


  

Posted for Real Toads - Mary's Mixed Bag - Windows
Poetry form:   La Lune for D'verse Poets Pub - Take 2 for me ~

3 lines of 3-5-3 words or 5-3-5 syllabic count - I have used both.    

of dreams

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

you didn't get to taste   
Canadian baked apple pie --

not for the first 3 years
that you live in this city -
preferring your wife's hand-rolled coconut 
milk sweets & saffron-dusted treats -- 

but these days, you bring either ham or
turkey sandwiches for lunch at work, mindful
of curry smell of your skin and breath --  

from eating rice with butter-based ghee, 
& potatoes and lentils with Indian spices, 
you politely inquire about everyone's weekend--

in this city of snow  & maple leaf dreams, 
you have traded your family's name & pride 
for the promising future of your only son 

here - in this city where immigrants
work shoulder to shoulder, cowed & bowed
from cold winter & scarce job market--

this is the city of forgetfulness --
(even the immigrant consultant forgot to tell you) 
to survive, forget the past & make a clean slate,
making mistakes, learning to conform until

you speak English slowly with little accent, 
(while writing your English novel at night)  
wear suits & pass courses - all stamped with approval -  

at the turn of the year, you buy  
groceries (including wine & apple pie) with
your modest income at nearby Walmart's store -

hailing a waiting  cab for home -
(you refused to take the driver's test still)  
the driver is turban and gruff of hair, 
another survivor, a mirror of you & you

chat, eager for a slice of familiar soil,    
comparing notes, and for a moment 
both of you remember

your dreams 

My top post for 2012 and all time is Follow Your Dreams.  I decided to write the same theme from my office mate's point of view.  And yes, I made this apple pie from scratch yesterday.  Thanks for the visit.      

Shared with D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Tuesday