And I Dared…

Cursed
with three legs
and a queer wheeled limb,
my life is always misery,
in a world of tightrope walkers.

Unbalanced
between two mouths and five eyes,
unable to wheel the world
without twisting a trail of wood.

Help me, Wood Faery Mother!
I need a kiss, a prince,
a carving surgeon referral…

She instant wished me
a DIY magazine.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

Hurt,
I flung the failed wish
into a wee pond outside my window,
and wild-hearted, I wheeled into the woods
for The Cutter.

After
losing a morn, noon twice
and three nights,
I collapsed
by the wee pond outside my window.

“Cursed,”
said the three-headed girl in the pond.

Her five-eyed stare
turned into an un-prince-like glare,
I told her,
“How do you dare?”
She doubled kissed me on two mouths.

Awaken
from a magic-less sleep
of clouds, I saw… and thought,
I will kiss my Self into anything I can.

And I dared…

***
for NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, Day 21 – This Poem Is a Fighter: Write a poem that challenges the veracity of at least three negative thoughts.

linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

Tightrope Walkers, by Remedios Varo“Tightrope Walkers”, by Remedios Varo
via

I Ate the Sun with Some Nuts

She wants Sunshine. It’s rather simple, she says. Feed me poetry or prose that dances wildly with the sun. Be literal… or metaphor your words away until sunshine is orange juice. I’m open, she says… just give me sunshine. All right, maybe Sanaa didn’t use those exact words… but that’s how my eyeballs read it to my heart. So here is my contribution to Prompt Nights – Sunshine (I decided to devour the sun and make myself shinier… and probably yummier 😉 4/15/16):

“I Ate the Sun with Some Nuts”

I slow cooked the sun,
stirred some nuts into the pot—
hot buttery yum
.

If a spring breeze kisses my skin
with susurrations of chill,
one pound of butternut squash
(boiled in three cups of salty broth
for twenty-one minutes)
will fill my middle with sunlight.

Cheddar and milk
might thicken the warmth,
but my gut growls at the thought.

I just blend the softened sun,
and pour the liquid gold into a pot,
to keep hot while I roast nuts…

pestle and mortar crush pecans.

***
for NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, Day 20 – Finger Licking Good: Cook up a poem with a recipe in it.

Who would have thought that Butternut Squash Soup with Roasted Pecans could be so poetic? I’m telling you, my Wicked Luvs, write a poem a day in April and eat poetry…

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Butternut Squash Soup with Roasted Pecans (2)
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Butternut Squash Soup with Roasted Pecans (4)
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Would You Sprout for Me?

“If I tell you that I love you,
that I built your crib of soil
and have been breathing soul on you,
would you sprout for me?”

I absorbed her given breath,
but held on to my seed coat
the Witch picked me without asking.

“You were our honeymoon baby.
I approached your mother tree,
gave her three scarlet drops and a soul kiss,
before introducing you to my Heart’s music
and bringing you across the sea;

if I show you that I love you,
would you sprout for me?”

I wasn’t forgetting her rude plucking;
but the Witch kept me
nice and moist,
set in the perfect warmth of darkness.
Something inside me began to push…

When I first cracked testa
to show green,
my Witch howled tender breaths
and shook my soil
with the tapping of her feet;

I sprouted for her… just a bit.

Process Note (not on steroids): during our honeymoon, my Piano Man and I ran into a níspero tree heavy with fruit. I hadn’t tasted that kind of yum in over 20 years. I picked a few nísperos, shared them with my love, and saved the seeds. I lost all the seeds but one. The day it sprouted, I nearly lost my mind with delight.

This is what Little Nisp looked like last spring
Nispero Seedling (3)

…his germination photos (yes, I’m sure he’s a boy *cough*)…
Nispero Seedling (1)

…after he sprouted, I reconstructed his seed…
Nispero Seedling (2)

…and here is the big boy one year after he cracked through his coat seed.
Nispero Seedling (4)

***
for NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, Day 19 – I, Tree: Summon the green within, and write a poem from the point of view of a sentient tree who gets to address his or her keeper. (Um… my entry might have stretched the prompt, “just a bit”, when it comes to perspective and point of view *cough, cough* I need to do something about this— *cough*)

linked to
Poets United, Poetry Pantry 248