Googling Sherry

Another attempt at googlism.com for Sam's prompt at dVerse. This time I typed in my name. I took away what seemed irrelevant and added in only what appears in brackets. A hoot.

sherry is not always sweet

sherry is an expert in use of the barrel 

         to teach a dog whoa and to encourage style
sherry is flexible as hell
sherry is back in town
sherry is made from the sun
sherry is ready to drink

sherry is to taken slowly
sherry is a trailblazing entrepreneur
(dont believe everything you read!)

sherry is a mysterious sweet beverage sipped 

             only by stuffy ascot (??)
sherry is experienced at drafting 

              premarital agreements

(at least I would be NEXT time!)

sherry is mysteriously lifted away
sherry is so fino do not dismiss all sherries 

              as sweet nothings
sherry is unable to stand for long periods of time 

              meaning that she needs
to find a job where she can work sitting down

sherry is full bodied
sherry is no shy wallflower
sherry is also a realist
sherry is now being more respectful 

              to her parents (who are dead)

sherry is not new to the entertainment industry
sherry is a certified professional demonstrator
sherry is dedicated to educating women about 

             managing and investing their money 

             (since she has none)

Wild Woman, Googled

At dVerse, the inimitable Sam Peralta has introduced us to Googlism poetry - whereby you go to Googlism.com , type in a short phrase, and create a poem by selecting from among the phrases that pop up, and embellishing them as needed.

I first typed in "Wild Woman knows" and Google sorrowfully informed me "Sorry, Google does not know what Wild Woman knows". (My secrets are safe!)

Then I typed in "Wild Woman", with better results. This was a total hoot. Thanks, Sam. Check out the links at dVerse, as there are bound to be some great responses. Do not miss Brian's, which is hilarious!
The Google lines are in italics

Wild Woman lives life to the full, 

Wild Woman is so hard to tame.

She is the untamed  within us all,

and she refuses to be blamed.

Wild Woman

 thunders in the face of injustice,

Wild Woman is of her own mold.

Wild Woman is proud to be a vision holder.

Wild Woman's truth cannot be bought or sold.

Many have tried to tame her, 

and just as many failed.

She goes her own way, happily,

and refuses to be jailed.

Wild Woman knows what she knows,

and it doesnt get any easier as she grows.

Wild Woman is fundamental in our 

connection to the divine.

Wild Woman is the source of the feminine.

Wild Woman, thankfully, has retained her spine,

(if not the sum totality of her mind!)

Wild Woman is an endangered specie.

More-

Wild Woman is the essence of my soul.

Come together, help us save her wildness,

which we must preserve 

to keep the Feminine whole.

Alas, Wild Woman is also very tired,

prone to dizzyness, while bonded to her couch,

betimes found mumbling incantations in a corner,

fending off the housepets while in a feral crouch

Wild Woman knows what she knows,

and it doesnt get any easier, as she grows.

Wild Woman is going into the woods.

Perhaps a vision quest will hone her skills.

She'll speak with oracles and owls,

come home replenished,

take up her calling

as wildish women always will.

Wild Woman knows what she knows.

And she needs a dose of wildness

by day's close.

Dissertation On Rivers

The Elaho - photo by Jon Merk

The river of love can 

knock you to your knees,

when that tall dark stranger's heart

develops teeth that would

consume your essence, 

if you allowed it-

a napalm strike that levels 

the landscape of the heart,

scorched earth devastation

in its wake,

from which all of your foliage

must begin to grow anew.

This is when you will discover that love

 - real love, not napalm-love -

is the river, the ocean, and the droplet, 

 one drop  an ecstasy on the tongue

after times of great thirst.

After passing that class,

you enter Being 101,

discovering your true identity: 

minute, one solitary drop in the turbulent sea,

and vast, part of the ebbing and flowing,

of the largeness
of the ocean itself.

Fall in love with the way

the moon splashes stardust

on the surface of the river,

irradiates the pond with an 

unearthly radiance,

lights a silver pathway across the lake.

Beyond,the dark and lumpy 

mountaintops huddle

like the hunched shoulders 

of an indolent giant,

the moon a bauble for him to bat 

from side to side.

Let the evening breeze whisper 

endearments in your ear,

translated by the silvery timpani 

of the leaves, falling 

from their accustomed branches

without attachment, without regret, 

free of fear.

Learn to fall like that,

in love with the whole world,

and you will never

be alone..

Allow your heart

this most glorious

pilgrimage.

.

For Ed's Get Listed at Real Toads. Be sure to check out the other links at the site. There should be some great responses to this prompt. Dont miss Ed's poem. It is a wonder!

The Landscape of Living

Fingers Cave,

the art of Carl Warner

"The body becomes the landscape" when,
footsteps going up and downstairs
remind the 40 year old woman
of when she was four 
and she dreaded the sound 
of her stepfather's feet,
coming and going, stealthily,
after dark,
predator
to her prey,
daughter, collateral damage
of the home invasion.

The body becomes the landscape
of the brutal gang rape
at fourteen,
which this same daughter
somehow survived,
but barely, 
spending her thirties
trying to find
the courage to heal.

The body becomes the landscape
when it swells, burns, and convulses
with nausea,
as the chemo drips into my son's arm
and he tells me
"I feel like an angel,
burning up from the inside."

My body, as a child, a teen, a young wife,
learned how to be
a distant landscape, 
disassociating, becoming numb
in order to endure,
and as the ice slowly thawed
around my heart, it hurt.
Oh, it hurt,
to come alive.

The landscape of old age
comes with a blessing:
the suffering, please God, is over.
The gift of twenty-four thousand,
four hundred fifty-five 
sunrises and sunsets
has been given.
This aged body, 
which has cried so many tears,
cackled so loudly,
and carried so many heavy burdens,
can rest, now, and remember
all the landscape
it has traveled through
to reach the portal just ahead,
around the next corner
on the path.

Then my spirit will leave 
this landscape
for another,
effervescent,
where I will travel
all across the galaxies
with a big black wolf,
and we will both
become beings of light.

For Kim's prompt at Verse First: to take inspiration from the poet Meridel LeSueur, who spoke the quote "the body becomes the landscape", as well as the art of  Carl Warner.

What I Know for Sure

BOO!

(Lisa's Yorkie, Penny, on Hallowe'en

Our dogs are so long-suffering!)

Mary has set us the most fantastic prompt, over at Poetry Jam: to write about What I Know For Sure, the idea based upon the book  by Dorothy Allison, Two or Three Things I Know For Sure. 

The author's quote that spoke to me is: Two or three things I know for sure, and one of them is that I would rather go naked than wear the coat the world has made for me.  

The world has done a good job of insisting I be Major Caretaker of the Universe. It has been difficult to try to find a few years that are mine alone. I grasped ten glorious years at the beach in the 90's, when I followed my heart to the wild west coast.  I am presently hoping to return, this winter if possible, so I can have a few more years of Living My Dream, while I still can. It does scare me, a little, given my age, health and finances. But I know that once I am back there, my soul will come alive with joy once again. Life is too short to not grasp that wild ride one more time.

My first response to the prompt was I dont have a CLUE what I know for sure, any more, but when I started tapping the keys, it turns out I do have a thought or two on the topic. Great prompt, Mary. Best ever!

What I Know For Sure:

that even the worst times were necessary

to teach me the lessons my soul needed to learn

that it doesn't matter how much or little you gather,
in life,

only what you give

that each cell, particle, tree, rock, being, in the world

is connected to every other

that even in times when we feel most alone,

we are being guided and helped

that, in order to be truly  happy and at peace,

we must follow our hearts,

even when it scares us ~

especially if it scares us!

Dona Nobis Pacem ~ BlogBlast for Peace 2013

As the endless waves

roll in to shore,

may our thoughts and prayers

for global healing

cover this world

in the energy

of peace.

Today, November 4,  thousands of peaceful hearts from countries all around the world will join in the tenth annual (!!!!) BlogBlast for Peace, begun by Mimi Lennox at Mimi Writes, who works hard to host this event every year. Please feel welcome to join us in sharing your thoughts of peace. Get your peace globe here. You can link your post on Mimi's site, as well as on Facebook.

Wild Woman Update

Hi kids, I am rather challenged at the moment - felled by an attack of my occasional vertigo, which hits when I work too hard. The cure is to lie down for a week or so until it passes, but wouldnt you know, I am looking after a four year old at his house for two weeks, while his mom is in Hawaii. This makes it tricky. I am going back and forth between both houses, as there are animals needing me in both places. So I only have access to my computer through the middle of each day.

It is a fine dance trying to do what is needed without tipping over into worse dizziness. As you know, it doesnt take long to get dismayingly behind on-line. I will do what I can, and I apologize for the shortfall! All will be well, this, too, shall pass and I will be back in the fray again.

Meanwhile, be well. I will get around to you all as I am able to, if only in little bits:)