Laural Winter

Wednesday Poem-the Poppy

This poem was published in Stanza Literary Arts zine in 1991. Thanks for publishing guys!  It was my first published poem.  Please channel your inner goth girl while reading.

 

Photo courtesy of Janice of NZ on Flickr.

The Poppy

She came upon a darkness in her soul

and she laughed a hearty laugh.

A light shine through her window

splattering darkness in her bowl.

She laughed.

She dove into her blood

to shine of life; to live.

She rains dark tears upon her face

and pounds her wrists upon glass:

hoping.

Hoping for the end of pain;

of the reign of tears.

She shears not her wrists but her hair

in a symbolic act of grieving

for the deadness of her soul.

She is a runt of a poppy;

a wilted poppy tilted toward

the darkness of the soil

while the sun has been left behind.

Magical Life of Long Tack Sam

Been a while-I have had a couple long weekends.  And on my long weekends I tend to avoid the computer. But I have a book review for you. 

The magical life of Long Tack Sam / Ann Marie Fleming.

This book is part biography and part memoir by Ann Marie Fleming. I have figured out that I love illustrated biographies and memoirs especially ones with collage, and comics.  The Magical Life of Long Tack Sam is one of those types of books.  Sam is the great grandfather of Fleming.  He was a world class magician who traveled and lived all over the world.  If you like world history about the early twentieth century this would be the book for you. Also if you liked Century Girl, another illustrated biography, you might like this book.  I loved it!

Tuesday Poem-Intruding Spatial Qualities

Hi there- not feeling 100% and here's poem that goes along with that feeling. Thanks to 26 Books and Dan Raphael for first publishing it. (Can't find a link for 26 Books).

Intruding Spatial Qualities

Sometimes I get away inside myself.

I crawl to the back where the ride is less bumpy

and the view less cluttered.

I take care of all aspects of things,

manage quite well.

Though the thought of another being there seems ridiculous.

Then I know that I am a citizen of outer space on the yellow planet

called pain.

Or just making another pretty place in limbo.

So that I become cantankerous.

Unused,

dusty,

full of too many bad movies.

Misplacing happiness

in my files

in my closet.

Happiness could be a new friend I am shy about calling.

Or it's the room where everyone huddles together all composed,

and I can't shoo my way in.

I am an obtuse piece ready to fall apart.

I am a new dance step.

Clumsy,

my feet unsure,

my smile rusty,

my face sometimes unwilling

to call in the score

though a smile would do the job; it's too much.

The lips are tethered,

safety straps down.

The frustration takes my attention

and the moment of chance

is gambled away

while I still try to shake off the dust.

Summertime

I wish it was summertime!

Summertime / Raffaella Barker.

I just read this sequel to the book Hens Dancing.  I really like this main character Venetia Summers.  She is a divorcee, and mother of three. She lives outside of London in a village with a small farm. She makes me feel positively fashionable, efficient and smart. Because she is sometimes too busy to clean, dress, and when she drinks she is not any kind of smart. The dialogue is hysterical.  The setting is usually beautiful.  The style is in diary form which is comforting.  She will have an awful Tuesday but by the next entry on Thursday things are sorted out.  Good reads!