Reasonable Questions

Pondering life’s great mysteries ~ 1989

Reason triumphs over desire—

Or is it the other way ‘round?

Can logic douse our passion’s fire?

Reason triumphs over desire:

So we think as mammals higher;

Don’t want to be emotion bound.

Reason triumphs over desire—

Or is it the other way ‘round?

~*~

This quadrille triolet poem was inspired by Linda’s SoCS prompt of reason, though this post isn’t stream of consciousness. Unlike some poems however, it wasn't a struggle to get the rhymes or the wordcount (and in my world, these QT's must have 8 syllables per line because I like to make my own life difficult). As I was dealing with a migraine early this morning, the lines materialized in my mind while I was throwing up in the bathroom (TMI?). It’s been a tough week for my poor head in the heat wave, which thankfully has finally broken. No matter how well-behaved my migraines are in summer (and they were very polite this year), September weather triggers them unmercifully. That’s my reason/ excuse for failing to blog this week, though in truth if I had really wanted to, I would have. Confession: I returned to bingeing The Sopranos every night after work and am now at the end of S4. It’s such a good show!

Today I am getting my flu shot and updated Covid vax, which I encourage everyone to do, especially oldies like myself. The flu absolutely sucks when you're older; hell, even a cold is horrible. When I was a teen, colds were no big deal and barely impacted my lifestyle, such as it was, but now they totally mess me up for a full week plus. Ah, the joys of aging. Guess it still beats the alternative. 

Never Her Fault

AI generated image of a narcissistic woman 

The accident wasn’t her fault.

She didn’t mean to offend you

With that nasty verbal assault

As she tried to push her way through.

Her motives are always so pure,

She has told us over again;

If she hurts you, you can be sure 

Someone else was using her pen.

Maybe the problem is you, dear,

Seeing insults where there are none.

Too sensitive when she comes near—

You should lighten up and have fun!

So put your feelings out of sight;

Just lock them away in a vault.

Remember she is in the right,

And nothing is ever her fault.

~*~

Written for Fandango’s Story Starter 263. Do you know anyone like this? I do!

Confessions of a Lazy Blogger

 

My daughter's kitty Zizi who passed a while ago

I have been enjoying other bloggers' long posts full of links and photos and diary-like reporting of their lives, and I think yeah I should do that too. Then I think nah I can't be bothered. Today I had planned a longer post for Jim's Song Lyric Sunday, which would have featured the song "I Hate Myself for Loving You" by Joan Jett, who was born in September (the theme). I had the idea of relating the lyrics to my own experience of the same, as this month marks the 10-year "anniversary" (9/25/16) of when I met the Michael who ghosted me at Thanksgiving (as opposed to all the other Michaels). I was going to jabber on about the significance of the square numbers, and go through the whole boring story again, even though some of you have heard it a few times already. 

Meh.

I find that I just don't care enough about it any longer to talk about the details. If it's uninteresting to me, I am pretty sure I can't make it sound interesting to you. Plot twist: I'm happy that I no longer care about what happened 10 years ago or any other dating experiences. They're all a big stupid blur of who gives a f*ck?

Nothing else grabbed me to post for SLS, so I thought OK I will do Joyce's Hodgepodge. But the theme is football. I mean, it goes beyond football, but ugh. Football. If I participate and share my link, then I will need to read other posts on the topic to participate fairly... blech. This is nothing against people who enjoy football. Some of my best friends like football. Hah.

I saw someone in my feed post about "lilac," and I followed the link back to the OP, who are a couple peeps I interacted with years ago on Wordpress, but they have their comments disabled. Blogspot posts do not "ping back" to another post when you create a link; the only way to alert another blogger that you tagged them is to go over there and leave a comment. I don’t mind doing this occasionally, but if comments are disabled, I don't feel like dealing with it, going to all the pingbacked links, hoping for a few return visits, blah blah, even though I might have done that if I could have commented, which makes little sense as it's the same thing, but hey. Then I thought, fine, I'll just do my lilac post for my loyal readers who come here of their own free will just to read exciting posts like this one.

Meh. I was out of the mood by then.

Generally, I avoid the diary type of posts because I have to leave out too much, since I don't post about work in any specific way nor do I want to say anything about family or friends that they might not like. I have been burned before in writing about these topics. It doesn't seem like anyone I know in "real life" reads this blog, but if I ever mention something like say a roommate I had back in Huntington Beach, then you can bet they will come slithering out. I do use the name Michael, and occasionally Jim, as there are a kabillion of them, and I doubt one will want to make himself known by jumping up and yelling YES I'M THE AHOLE!

I see that the Sunday Whirl Wordle has some really pretty words in it like mosses and plumes and forest and ruffle, so maybe if I get over my lazies I will write a poem with all the prompt words. Hazy images are starting to materialize in my mind...

Here's the bottom line (literally): I don't want blogging to take much effort. If an idea for a post turns out to be Not Fun and a Giant Chore to continue with, I delete it. If participating in a "blog hop" takes a bunch of work, I'm out. There are too many books I could spend time reading instead.

Summer’s End

Dandelion from Pixabay

September showers

Signal the end of summer 

Rainy grey mornings 

Memories already mist

All the projects left undone 

~ Summer’s lease hath all too short a date ~ *

October beckons

Costumes and candy galore

Dreams dissolve daily

Floating fast into the past 

Replaced by holiday plans 

*William Shakespeare, Sonnet 18

~*~

Tanka puente written for the Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge (with alliteration).

Enough Is Enough

Pocket watch on the beach (AI)

I reclaim my eyes from advertisers

And focus my thoughts on novels instead.

I don't listen to podcasts while I drive;
It's okay to be alone in my head.

I no longer respond to angry memes

Or have arguments with strangers online;

I don't visit Reddit, Bluesky or X~

I have better things to do with my time.

Remember when we didn't have email

And our lives were not controlled by an app?

I dream of a day when I disconnect

From this electric avalanche of crap.

~*~

Written for Great Minds Think (the "enough" challenge).

Everything

Pegasus flying to the moon in a colorful sky (AI)

 

On Poetic Inspiration [sonnet]

I am inspired by a sorrowful tune

To translate tears from my pen to the page;

I am enthused by the silvery moon

To write of loneliness, heartbreak, and rage.

I am beholden to nightmares and dreams

That give me stanzas to take for a spin;

I am grateful for the scams, shams, and schemes

That move my hand to craft lines about sin.

I’m indebted to the sound of the rain

That spreads across my landscape like a bruise;

I am thankful for reminders of pain

That keep this lady well-versed in the blues.

Cheers to whatever mischievous gods fling,

For what inspires me is just... everything!

~*~

Shared from my book Odds and Ends for John Holton's Writer's Workshop, where he asks what inspires us to write.

Raining Diamonds

Image from Unsplash

Uranus and Neptune Are Raining Diamonds

[free verse inspired by a news article]

Gas giants made of methane,

Crushed by universal loneliness,

Turn blue and cry diamonds.

But a girl’s best friend isn’t so precious

With no one to collect the rain.

Forgotten drops of carbon

Become planetary garbage;

There’s no lapidary to cut and set,

Showing off the facets in a nest

Of black velvet with a discreet price tag;

No “surprise” starry-eyed proposal

Awaits on one knee at the beach

Documented for Instagram.

The diamonds keep falling, falling,

Far beyond our grasping fingers,

Unappreciated, inconspicuous, 

Left to eternal rest 

In a celestial treasure chest.

~*~

Lisa at dVerse asks for a "weather" poem, but she didn't specify that it had to be Earth's weather, so I thought I'd share this older poem I wrote for my book Recollections May Vary. I may have posted it on my (since deleted) WordPress blog, in which case some of you may have seen it previously.

Because You Promised

AI tiger in the clouds

I jumped without a parachute

Because you promised to be there

I felt fearless and I felt cute

I jumped without a parachute

My confidence was absolute

But nothing caught me except air

I jumped without a parachute

Because you promised to be there

~*~

Triolet quadrille (structured 44 words) written for dVerse Poets Pub (jump).

No Travel Plans

At home with a kitty around 1989

 

So, I have no plans to travel—

No plans to see the Northern Lights,

No tickets for the full eclipse

Or any of the World Cup sites—

I’m just not planning any trips!

No Montreal or Amsterdam,

No Israel or Uruguay…

I’m happy staying where I am.

I have no plans to cruise or fly,

No parachute to break my fall;

I have no scuba diving gear,

No mountain climbing boots at all.

I only plan to stay right here 

In my current state of hermit,

And for this I need no passport, 

No permission slip or permit.

(At least not yet.)

~*~

Written for the dVerse poetry prompt of “just say no,” Reena’s Xploration Challenge (light/ fall/ current/ break), and Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday (travel). Words inspired by my own true state of mind.

Distractions

Inky inspects the sunflowers (my photo)

The day arrived when

I forgot to remember 

To cry over you

Broken hearts don’t fully mend

But they can get distracted 

~*~

Tanka written for Melissa’s Tanka Tuesday prompt of forgetting and inspired by the memory of my beloved kitty Gatsby.

Migraine

Abstract migraine pain via Meta AI

I wake up in the underworld.

My temples throb with sparks of pain. 

Nausea spirals through my bones:

I fall in a pit of migraine.

Desolate current flows with moans.

Quiet voices scream like thunder.

Triptans weave a path I follow, 

No bright lights to cause a blunder.

Surfacing, I feel so hollow,

Like a papery leaf unfurled.

~*~

Written for the Sunday Whirl Wordle 768 with prompt words screams desolate temples bone sparks pit voices follow underworld spiral weave current. Luckily, I did not suffer from a migraine this weekend; the poem was inspired by recent memories.

Underwater

Ghosts in the sea by a shipwreck (Meta AI)

Even the ghosts abandoned ship

My carelessness has led me here

Gambled it all buying the dip

Even the ghosts abandoned ship

Riding the wave toward a rip

I watched the profits disappear 

Even the ghosts abandoned ship

My carelessness has led me here

~*~

Triolet quadrille (structured 44 words) written for dVerse Poets Pub (care). Not based on a true story (not mine anyway); I just liked the rhymes.

An Incomplete List of Loves

Mom, daughter, me, daughter, 1993

These I have loved...

My mother’s very slight country-twanged voice;

My father pestering me to read Joyce;

Creating Spirograph patterns for hours;

The blissfulness of steamy hot showers;

Playing Battleship and Clue with my friends

And Pink Panther cartoons on the weekends.

Visiting the zoo to check out the snakes;
New pink erasers waiting for mistakes;

Frosting a cake with swirls of buttercream;

Discovering Bobby’s death was a dream;

Romance novels full of intrigue and spice;

Sushi made with avocado and rice;

Apple and cinnamon scents of the fall;

James Bond adventures that held me in thrall;

Warm fluffy towels straight out of the dryer;

Melted marshmallows crisp-blackened in fire;

Soft little mews waking me from a nap;

Kitties who purr while curled up in my lap;

Wriggling my toes in a new pair of boots;

Countertop bowl full of fresh summer fruits:

Peaches and mangoes and cherries galore;

And sunbeams gleaming upon a wood floor.

Knickknacks set at right angles so neatly;

(Secrets stashed in my posts quite discreetly);

Nixing my past from the Wayback Machine;

Keeping my conscience and kitchen pristine;

My OCD may take weird contortions —

Counting spaghetti, measuring portions.

My grandmother did, so what can I say?

I love that I get to blame DNA.

More than these I love my daughters and grands,

While sadly aware of decreasing sands.

All these have been my loves.

~*~

Written for dVerse Poets Pub. The inspirational poem is “The Great Lover” by Rupert Brooks, which was written in rhyming couplets, so that’s how I wrote mine (except for the required first and last lines), even though I know that rhyming is out of style. 

Dream Come True

Sweet little Miss Inkerbelle (my photo)

Shelter cat

Sad but hopeful pic online

Soft black fur bright green eyes 

I dreamt about her

Named her Inky

Now she’s home 

~*~

Seox poem (3-7-6-5-4-3) written for the Tanka Tuesday Challenge (dream). 

Flashback Friday: Just Beachy

Crystal Cove, CA (my photo)

I'm participating in Fandango's Flashback Friday today with a poem I found on the Wayback Machine. I posted this on my old WP blog on July 17, 2019.

In Other Words, the beach…

I have always lived near the beach:
East Coast, West Coast, Lake Michigan.
I prefer them at sunrise, cold, and empty,
Their stark majesty revealed to me alone,
Waves whispering secrets from the moon.

The Milky Way Bar

Space candy via Meta AI

Look through any window 

Past your own reflection—

Contemplate the endless night.

Note the comforting moon.

Stars come into focus.

Constellations form their patterns:

We give names to the shapes;

Our minds fill in the blanks.

They’ve discovered sugar in space—

The building blocks of life!

Did sugar come from Earth

Or did it float on “down” to us

Like sprinkles from a cake?

Either way it’s so nice

To know the universe is sweet.

You can close the window,

Walk away from the night,

And create your own confection.

~*~

Written for John Holton’s Writer’s Workshop (window) and dVerse Poets Pub (night), and inspired by a news article on a recent discovery in space.

Wandering Wishes

Dandelion from Pixabay

Puff out the candle on the cake

Wandering wishes flower seeds

Unpredictable turns they take

Puff out the candle on the cake

Imagine bold new thirsts to slake

Separate basic wants from needs

Puff out the candle on the cake

Wandering wishes flower seeds

~*~

Triolet quadrille (structured 44 words) written for dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille Monday (prompt of puff) hosted by the lovely Lisa of Tao-Talk.

Flashback Friday: Twelve

Somewhere in time...

I'm participating in Fandango's Flashback Friday today with a quadrille I posted at my old WP blog on July 10, 2023. I found it on the Wayback Machine.

Twelve

Twelve wine bottles in a box

Twelve steps taken to detox

Twelve white pills an overdose

Twelve times twelve total gross

Twelve months make another year

Twelve long days of Christmas cheer

Twelve nights a grey fugue state

Twelve jurors to weigh my fate

Expectations, Then and Now

Crystal Cove Beach at Laguna, CA (my photo)

I struggled for years

To live up to a standard

Someone else had set

But despite all my efforts

The goal eluded my grasp

~ Beauty begins the moment you decide to be yourself. (Coco Chanel) ~

Slow epiphany

Look inward for my answers

Ignore the static

Find pleasure in small triumphs
That I define for myself

~*~

Tanka Puente was written for Colleen's Tanka Tuesday. This is the first time I've tried this form, and I already love it! 

Spark My Interest

Sparking light bulb image from Pixabay

So many things spark my interest that it can be hard to focus. There are always a zillion books I want to read, a zillion minus x shows I would like to watch, poetry to write, pictures to paint, exercise routines to try... Not everything ignites however; most of my ideas don't go anywhere. For example, I saw Jim's post yesterday about slang terms and thought of the fun word "delulu," a softer way to say hey you're nuts for thinking that. I decided to write a triolet, but it fizzled. That happens a lot. I don't want to post a meh poem because I did too much of that on my old blog just to participate in prompts. Now, you may believe that all my poetry is meh, and I wouldn't argue! The poems I post on this blog though are ones that please me, which is good enough, but the delulu one wasn't meant to be.

The other day at work, I saw the most beautiful screensaver first thing in the morning (it was probably AI generated) of gorgeous purple flowers in the foreground, stunning greenery, vivid blue water, fluffy clouds, and a whole bunch of pretty trees. I took a photo of it with the idea of painting a triptych, which is a set of three pictures, related to but slightly different from each other. I was very excited to begin this project on the weekend, but it is now the weekend, and my interest has waned. I'm sitting here typing this post at the table where I normally paint, and I feel no desire to get out my painting supplies. I lost my spark.

What has kept my interest lately is exercise! I know, how weird. I had this old Leslie Sansone Walk at Home video that I used periodically, but I was a bit bored with it. On impulse, I ordered her 30 Day Challenge video and did it faithfully through the month of June. I am not here to testify to some miracle now, as I don't think anything really changed. I weigh the same, and I look the same amount of flabby. My clothes don't fit any better, and I still would not be comfortable wearing a swimsuit in public. But I feel really good! I feel so good that I ordered a couple more of her vids during Prime days and 5 more of her videos off eBay! I've been mixing up the routines and doing two per day on days I don't work, one in the morning and one in the late afternoon. I just love it. I love it so much that I go to sleep and wake up planning which ones to do. Here's an even more bizarre thing: I used to do these videos with music only so I didn't have to listen to Leslie's jabbering, but now I like her jabber. I feel inspired by her silly pep talks and giggly banter with Nick Drago, one of the cute walkers she has on a lot of videos. OK, I admit I kind of have a crush on him even though he's in his 40s and was way younger than that on these vids from around 2010-2015. I'm a bit disappointed that he doesn't appear on one of the videos I bought, but it's a women-only one, so OK. 

Idk what happened to Leslie as she suddenly retired from all the things. I hope she's not in ill health or something (she's 65 like me, so not super old but not young either), but I wouldn't pay to subscribe to her channel because neither she nor Nick seem to be performing any longer. Not sure what exactly Nick is up to (can't really find out that much via stalking his Instagram, not that I did, lol), but he appears to be married to this gorgeous blonde named Chelsea, so it's best to just forget about him. Oh, I was going to do that Great Minds Think prompt about being immortalized by transporting myself into a video and making Nick Drago fall in love with me, but that seemed even more ridiculous than saying I would like to be immortalized by all my great writing, so it was a no-go. Lost my Nick Drago fantasy spark, alas.

Anyway. Happy 4th, whether you're sparking or not. Sparking used to mean courting, you know, not in our modern sense of hooking up aka "dating" (barf), but in the sitting on the porch swing with a glass of lemonade within earshot of the parents kind of way. Very sweet and chaste with no ghosting allowed because everyone knew you were there. You could spark more than one person at a time because, after all, it was only lemonade, but even so it all was supposed to lead to marriage and the whole nine yards.

~*~

Written for Linda's Stream of Consciousness Saturday (spark).