Dorothy Parkier's poem

Guns are unlawful

Gas smells awful

Nooses give

Might as well live!

Dorothy Parker (American poet 1893-1967)

The Adventures of Lilttle Bird

THE ADVENTURES OF LITTLE BIRD

Dia de St. Carmen

16 July 1993

Dazzling explosions of sparkling lights lit the cool night air, shimmering lights, dangling . Rockets and bombs bursting. Breathtaking and earth shattering.

It was the fiesta de St. Carmen, the fishermen´s day.

Naturally, the great event was being held at the La Sabina port.

* * *

As I leaned over to retrieve my fallen napkin, I caught sight of a tiny creature…a little bird on long spindly legs. His eyes were wide with fear and terror from having been blown out of his nest in the middle of the night.

* * * *

I picked him up and cupped him in the palm of my hand. He was so frail, so tiny in this big menacing world with its pleasure being loaded with noises and great flashes of light in the middle of the night.

´´Little bird´´as he became known, relaxed slowly into his new-found environment. He didn´t try to bite; he didn´t try to escape. He, in fact, seemed to settle into his destiny with a kind of bird´s resignation.

Maxi came along with a group of his pals. I showed him my little treasure. Tenderly, he took the little one from my hand and made it walk up the ladder to his shoulder.

The little bird seemed to accept his new loft with a bird´s view.

All night long on this night of St. Carmen, ¨Little bird ¨ perched on Maxi´s shoulder. He accompanied Max and his friends on their adventures, passing to and fro and from hand to hand – getting a glimpse of the way humans of fourteen years old lived on this special night.

Little bird even ventured into the magic castle where he hung on tightly as Maxi and the boys jumped around in their air-inflated paradise.

Arriving back in Can Marroig, Maxi and I made a little nest for the bird with a basket over his head. We didn´t want menacing cats eating him in the night.

The following morning, Maxi awoke to the gentle chirp of his new-found friend. The little bird hopped to the window sill where he peered in all directions – abit wont for what to do.

He called again with his recognizable chirp.

As if from nowhere, a flock of his fellow tribe appeared on the gateway arch.

Little bird flew off to join his mates, lifting off to fly who knows where to find food and shelter and perhaps a good night´s sleep where he wouldn´t be awakened by man´s fireworks on a special day like that of the fisherman.

Dana 1993

My Kingdom

Share| My Kingdom User Rating: 8.8 /10 (4 votes) - vote - 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 E-mail this poem to e friend Send this poem as eCard Add this poem to MyPoemList Print friendly version A little kingdom I possess where thoughts and feelings dwell, And very hard I find the task of governing it well; For passion tempts and troubles me, A wayward will misleads, And selfishness its shadow casts On all my words and deeds. How can I learn to rule myself, to be the child I should, Honest and brave, nor ever tire Of trying to be good? How can I keep a sunny soul To shine along life's way? How can I tune my little heart To sweetly sing all day? Dear Father, help me with the love that casteth out my fear; Teach me to lean on thee, and feel That thou art very near, That no temptation is unseen No childish grief too small, Since thou, with patience infinite, Doth soothe and comfort all. I do not ask for any crown But that which all may win Nor seek to conquer any world Except the one within. Be thou my guide until I find, Led by a tender hand, Thy happy kingdom in myself And dare to take command. Louisa May Alcott

A NIGHT IN CHIPIONA

Whistling wind and streaky rain try to sneak into my hotel room through the window.  The street lights bathe  the  deserted beach in yellow light as the breaking waves roll relentlessly in and out  The night is dark,The near full moon glides calmly through the menacing clouds. 

 It is odd to be here in Chipiona...so far removed from friends and family, but so connected now that Internet exists...

So much has changed in Spain in the last ten years...it's amazing how we straddle the two worlds...the old traditional and  that with the latest 21st century technological advances!  

Life is like a box of chocolates?

In Forrest Gump, the mother played a great role in educating her son.

She would say

"Forrest, life is like a box of chocolates...you never know what you're gonna get."

In that simple phrase there is great wisdom...

it's true...

whether it's fate , or chance , or mistakes , or divine guidance, it's hard to know what one's life is going to hold in store.

One turning, one accident, one chance encounter...all those simple acts can create ripples of reaction not only in one's life but in many others, , like pebbles dropped into a quiet pond.

So it was with her life...

so many small details made the difference for the whole.

There was no way of knowing exactly what would happen...but she kept a diary and out of that grew her books which would some day deck the shelves of some bookshop.

BUT for now she was content to live her life in the shadows...no one could see what she was doing, copy her, mimick her...she could be alone with her thoughts as she composed her

tomes......

Looking at blogs

A blog is a  funny thing..I dont know whether to treat it as a "memoire", kind of diary or to start putting my  fledgling efforts of a novel writer on it...we shall see. 

For the time being, it is serving as a means to organize my writers mind around all the things I was doing for so long and didn't dare show. 

Twenty years ago I was most prolific, staying up all night after the chlldren had gone to sleep. 

I had the energy and illusion then...now I am more realistic . 

Better to be consice, honest, direct and eliminate the non-essential.

 Back to basics. 

The madness that comes from falling in love has  gone...fortunately I was writing all the time so as to seize those moments of lucidity. 

Little by little one regains one's own persona again and can start from ground zero. 

Becoming serious

Reality is seeping in through the doors.  There is a financial recession going on in the world and where once it was fun to play with words secretely in the shadows, now it is time to polish the art and get it ready for public consumption. 

Before it seemed automatic that my 'great words of wisdom' would float poetically into the world and sooth the poor, the disenfranchised, the lost souls looking for guidance. 

Now, perhaps those people won't either have the time or inclination to read prophetic words...they are busier trying to pay their bills.  So...I switch gears and get ready to appeal to a different league of people...people who have intelligence and time and like to hear other intelligent people who have the time. 

Not much money floating around these days, so one has to make due by using one's brain on how to connect and survive. 

Bit by bit, I shall get serious ... each day plugging into the  greater arena and trying to make sense of what is, was and will happen...so help me.......

Well...that is all for the moment as I must reboot. 

Inspiring poems by other authors

Rudyard Kipling's IF

If you can keep yur head when all about you 

are losing theirs and blaming it on you...

IF you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, 

but make allowance for their doubting too

IF you can wait and not be tired by waiting

or, being lied about, don't deal in lies

IF , being hated, don't give way to hating

and yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise

IF you can dream and not make dreams your master

If you can think...and not make thoughts your aim

IF you can meet with triumph and disaster

and treat those two impostors just the same

IF you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, 

Or watch the things you gave your life to broken

and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools...

IF you can make one heap of all your winnings

and risk it on one turn of pitch and toss 

and lose, and start again at your beginnings

and never breathe a word about your loss

IF you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

to serve your turn long after they are gone

and so hold on when there is nothing in you 

except the Will which says to them: "Hold On."

IF you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue

or walk with kings...nor lose the common touch

IF neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you

IF all men count with you, but none too much

IF you can fill the unforgiving minute

with sixty seconds worth of distance run

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it

and...which is more... you'll be a man, my son.

xxxx one could also say, "which is more...you'll be a woman, my daughter."...but most women

don't get so many chances to prove themselves.