Chicken à la Lino Without You

The last bite of chicken lies
wet on the floor,
growing colder as
we throw barbed taunts,
defiant challenges
with our eyes.

Seconds tick by...
I bubble,
broiling up
like the
congealed mass
on yesterday's linoleum.

Fire burns bright
in indignation
"How could you do that?"
Dead poultry don't tell no tales.
Neither does your daughter.
And flung chicken makes me miss you even more.

There is a new poetry hangout in town by the name of d'Verse ~Poet's Pub. Tonight they are hosting Meeting  the Bar: Critique and Craft with a big theme, namely big topics, ie. death, life, grief, suffering, etc., but the suggestion is to come at it from a less than blatantly direct angle. The thrust of the night is to offer honest, helpful and informative critiques of other poets work. I read a few pieces and am going to explore a few more before hitting the hay, but thought I would add a poem of my own.

You tell me the theme. If you can't get it, that lets me know that more work is needed. I welcome your two cents worth. Thanks for visiting!

I Leave You with "Sunday"

I'll be headed out of town again this weekend. Strapping the girls onto the hood of my tractor and moseying on over to a wedding a few towns away. I might not get back here to write much more up, but I just wanted to say that I miss you all when I'm not around! My friends out there in the blogosphere are the best, most supportive lot around. And as I truly feel like you care just a smidgen about me and my two cents worth, I do try to make an effort. Therefore today, while I was getting my hair done (so that I'd be all dolled up for the wedding), I snuck in some writing. Yup, while I "processed" my pen scribbled across the pages of one of my journals to capture stories for you dear folk. I managed to get not one, but TWO chapters of my African tale written. That way, even if I don't get back here on Monday, you can still wander through Africa with me. I'll be back though and look forward to hearing what you think!

And so that this post is not too dull, I thought I should throw in a little something extra as well. I dug deep and came up with an ancient poem to share this evening, entitled :

Sunday

I escape to words today.

Small smile for others,

But gray eyes inside lay.

     The rain pours down...

Letters that I don't have to say

Written, not mailed

Away. Now,

     The thoughts poured down...

Looking through watery lids

Streaks cover the pane

Where a question breeds.

     A tear drops down...

Flies, Fishermen and Flights of Fancy

The days flew by, as dust wafted behind the land cruiser on our way South. A smile curved my lips when we reached the brilliant coast of Lake Malawi again. Oh, how I loved its azure shores. One day Eddie pointed out a dark cloud across the lake. It looked like smoke, but Eddie shook his head no. The hazy cloud that drifted on the horizon was in fact lake flies. Catherine and John had never seen them before, but Eddie remarked that they were edible and considered a delicacy by the locals when they swarmed across the lake. They caught them by the handfuls and squished them into balls, then fried them up into "delicious" fly cakes. As we were not there at the right time of year, we would not get the pleasure of trying them. Eddie assured us that we were not missing anything. He had tried them before and wasn’t impressed. As I had tried the other Malawian treat of grasshoppers and hadn’t been a fan, I didn’t rue our timing all that much. I guess protein is protein though, when it is scarce to come by. I just preferred the view.

The lapping waves were a welcome companion, as I curled up on the beach at night as well. With the flies located across the lake and no mosquitoes to bug me, I could look up at the pristine, star-lit sky in awe. It was also a treat to watch fishermen stringing their nets out in the moon’s glow in hopes of catching a meal for the next day. The long row of lights that represented each fisherman along the net, painted a line of humanity in my mind’s dark eye. I was mesmerized and fell in love with Malawi all over again.

Before I knew it though, the lake was behind us and I was let out at Annie’s Guest House, in Lilongwe, for the night. I was amongst backpackers again and enjoyed the camaraderie, for an evening at least. Stories were swapped and chocolate was shared. Our laughter was only good until noon though and then I met back up with Eddie to head off for the next leg of our journey.

After jumping into the land cruiser again, we journeyed on across the continent. We stopped in Chipata, then made our way across Zambia to Lusaka. Conversation lulled and was wan, at best. In bursts of discordant chatter, I spoke of my plans for the rest of my travels. Eddie nodded politely, while he drove across the dry terrain dotted with rondavels. When I said that I was thinking of heading back towards Harare, then south again to Cape Town, he suggested an alternate route.

“Why not cut across at Kasane and travel south down Namibia for somewhere you haven’t been before?” he said.

Why not indeed. And with that, plans changed again. I silently wished goodbye to my erstwhile friends in Harare and opened the door to adventure in new lands, as yet unexplored. I still had a ways to go before I could be introduced to this new country for me, but a twinge of excitement filled me again. I fell silent thinking about all the places I had been and people that I had met, but was still present enough to wave at the villagers that we passed who eagerly lifted their hands in greeting. Their enthusiasm still brought a smile to my lips, even after nine months on the road. While Lusaka neared on the road we travelled, my own trail grew as my mind drifted along on a new flight of fancy.  

Saturday's Email of the Week: Cleaning Day

Saturday's Email of the Week

I am lost in the chaos that is my basement. We are in the middle of one of our 1-2 hour long clean-up sessions. Lord help me! The day started with homemade muffins, but it is noon and I am ready for a drink!

No time though. I must go back downstairs with the vacuum now. I might even pull out the mop, while I hand dusters to the kids. How does it always get so bad, so fast? I ask you!

Well, this calls for humour, since there isn't much downstairs. I hope you all have sparkly Saturdays! I will be needing a bath and a drink in a few!

*****

Good morning, this is called following instruction precisely...


A wife asks her husband, "Could you please go shopping for me and
buy one carton of milk, and if they have eggs, get 6."
A short time later the husband comes back with 6 cartons of milk.
The wife asks him, "Why on earth did you buy 6 cartons of milk?"


 He replied, "They had eggs."


This is a story which is perfectly logical to all males.

have a nice day......

~*~*~

Be sure and cancel your credit cards before you die! This is so priceless and so easy to see happening - customer service, being what it is today!

A lady died this past January, and CBIC bank billed her for February and March for their annual service charges on her credit card, and then added late fees and interest on the monthly charge. The balance had been $0.00, now is somewhere around $60.00.

A family member placed a call to the CBIC Bank:

Family Member: 'I am calling to tell you that she died in January.'

CBIC: 'The account was never closed and the late fees and charges still apply.'

Family Member: 'Maybe you should turn it over to collections.'

CBIC: 'Since it is two months past due, it already has been.'

Family Member: 'So, what will they do when they find out she is dead?'

CBIC: 'Either report her account to the frauds division or report her to the credit bureau, maybe both!'

Family Member: 'Do you think God will be mad at her?'

CBIC: 'Excuse me?'

Family Member: 'Did you just get what I was telling you . . . the part about her being dead?'

CBIC: 'Sir, you'll have to speak to my supervisor.'

Supervisor gets on the phone:

Family Member: 'I'm calling to tell you, she died in January.'

CBIC: 'The account was never closed and the late fees and charges still apply.'

Family Member: 'You mean you want to collect from her estate?'

CBIC:(Stammer) 'Are you her lawyer?'

Family Member: 'No, I'm her great nephew.'(Lawyer info given)

CBIC: 'Could you fax us a certificate of death?'

Family Member: fax number is given.

After they get the fax:

CBIC: 'Our system just isn't set up for death. I don't know what more I can do to help.'

Family Member: 'Well, if you figure it out, great! If not, you could just keep billing her. I don't think she will care.'

CBIC: 'Well, the late fees and charges do still apply.'

Family Member: 'Would you like her new billing address?'

CBIC: 'That might help.'

Family Member: Rookwood Memorial Cemetery , 1249 Centenary Rd, Sydney Plot Number

CBIC: 'Sir, that's a cemetery!'

Family Member: 'Well, what the f**k do you do with dead people on your planet?'

In Tandem #5 - Golden Heart

Soft caress

a kiss of wind drifts 

gently 'cross mountain pass

Down the valley

to the forest floor

Lo, the hot breeze 

drives in without forgiveness.

Fresh leaves, but a memory

swept away by

Autumn promises

Now parched images

all that is left of you

as sun sets steady

behind the bulk

of your memory

I draw your lines

hold your visions strong in mind,

yet I am too small

to ever spy the

golden heart that was you

...

M'lady Jinksy

holds a weekly prompt

by the name of In Tandem.

Here,

I showcase one of her beautiful paintings

and make attempt to capture her art

in words.

If you are interested,

every week she posts 2 pictures

on Wednesday

and leaves a link open for the week

for inspiration to flow

amongst others.

Enjoy!