Today, I am doing a white rabbit impersonation, and already too busy. Just like this crazy flower…
It’s Friday, which means a family visitation, weekly shopping delivery, the final chapter to finish, and the need to find out why one of my lesser characters seems to have disappeared into the mist…
I wanted to make some promo posters for Ghost of a Chance too, but that title says it all today…
Of course, I won’t manage all of this, but I’m gonna give it my best shot!
Impossible, that’s Anita’s poem today, and that word sums up the week we have just had.
We are used to crazy and can tolerate a little madness (in short doses), but we haven’t seen weird around here for quite a while. We are exhausted, both mentally and physically, so will need a quiet weekend to process everything. (in other words, shove everything back into the right boxes!)
Wishing everyone a lovely peaceful weekend too, and we will be back on Monday!
Does anyone fancy a paddle?
When I tell you the great redwood Is white as snow, a ghost Don’t call me crazy When lightning strikes the ground And angels wings can be found Don’t call me crazy When I tell you I see Merlin’s face in the cloud Don’t call me crazy Arthur stands with sword in hand Where lightning is found Don’t call me crazy When the Lady of the Lake Calls the light of the world to her hand don’t call me crazy she had in mind a world renewed old magic recalled don’t call me crazy find an angels ring, wear it well your life now stands beside the tree reborn, your thoughts with me don’t call me crazy I wear the ring by lightning made I walk with angels when day is done Don’t call me crazy Like the tree, they live inside out The ring I found Keeps me from going crazy… ©AnitaDawes2022
February #BlogBattle: Revolution
The word this month is:
My dad had a lot of crazy ideas, this one was the best crazy yet.
Mum said it would be in the yard by
the end of the week with the rest of his junk.
The hugest telescope I had ever seen.
Dad and I put it together, learned how to focus it.
That night from the spare bedroom, my heart jumped from star to star.
fourteen years old and I know what I want to do with my life.
I told dad I wanted to work at the Hubble Observatory.
That night I witnessed my first spiral galaxy.
I had fallen into one of mum’s bible stories.
Revelations came to mind; something began for me that night.
Mum was right, dad will be bored by the end of the week.
Some might say, dad had been marked by the beast 666.
a number that drives the crazy in him.
mum wouldn’t like to hear me say that,
she would be crossing herself half the day,
saying Jonathan, mind your tongue!
Before going to bed, I made sure dad knew I wanted the telescope.
He smiled; we didn’t need too many words,
I knew the scope was mine…
© Anita Dawes 2021
#TANKA TUESDAY #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 211, #Abhanga, or #PoetsChoice
WELCOME TO TANKA TUESDAY!
Anita Dawes Crazy Etheree
Stone monsters’ gargoyles smiles.
Night that never ends.
Slow morning light
Wrinkled sheets
Cold hands
Touch
Pale
Thinking
Brain cracking
Storm clouds calling
Rainfall flood warning
Small dark gargoyle smiling
War in heaven raging
Stone monsters waiting
Armour plated
army waits.
Biting
Souls
Black
Magic
makes its stand.
There to take all.
Heavens light has more
War raging until dawn…
© Anita Dawes 2021
Image by Pixabay.com
Do you suffer as I do?
With a melody in the back of your mind
With words you cannot find
Taking the 45 bus to Brixton
A middle-aged woman in the seat behind you
Humming the tune in your head
Do you ask her, only for her to say
She has no idea why it’s in her head
Days later you’re passing a building site
Where the tune is being whistled
by a burly bricklayer.
He too cannot answer your question
A child in the playground, skipping to your tune.
You end up standing in a record shop
Humming it for the assistant
He places an EP on the record player
It’s the tune from an advert,
no longer stuck in your head
The title of which was ‘Many Rivers to Cross.’
It almost drove me crazy
I wondered if we had all crossed the same river…
Crazy
A million stars shine underfoot
The grass ripples in the sky.
We do our washing in the mud
And all pigs must learn to fly.
Clouds crawl along the ground
Trees roots grab the air
Black sun freezes hard
Destruction lives on everywhere.
Our seasons are all backwards
We see no sounds at all.
Our thinking has gone haywire
There are no visions on the wall
We see no light in the darkness
We are confused and glad
We cry at flowers growing
We are both happy and sad…
Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie 