Kringle, my selfie elf, wanted in on the blogging gig. I told him it pays nothing, but he’s just full of good will and charity. Enjoy:
Every Christmas
Kringle elf patiently waits
For Santa’s signal
Silver bells ringing
Calling across time and space
To all clever elves
“Hurry ho, ho, home!”
Santa cries, “Christmas draws nigh!”
Elves rush north posthaste
Kringle soon will leave
For Santa’s North Pole workshop
Where magic lives still
Praying for Eyebrowz Copyright 2015 by Leslie Noyes.
i’ve been gone
for a long time
my mind
unhinged
tainted
exacerbated
by darkness and
troublesome doubt.
as the return trip
proves difficult
will i
prove
capable
sustainable
equal to the
test of wills?
light there awaits
punishment or peace
burning
bruising
controlling
welcome counter
to vapid refrain
ready or not, i come.
Praying for Eyebrowz Copyright 2015 by Leslie Noyes.
way beyond the outer fence
where the people seldom go
live gnarly gnomes and frightful elves
my mother told me so.
we live within the shelter
erected in far distant years
against grave dangers present
the source of all their fears.
some day i’ll venture out there
past the barriers they’ve set
to find my fortune or my death
or perhaps to pay our debt
for it seems a wall this sturdy
built ’round our country lost
was not to keep the others out
but us in at any cost
Praying for Eyebrowz Copyright 2015 by Leslie Noyes.
One of my blogging friends commented on a recent post of mine that it was un-original. Her comment didn’t offend me. I didn’t take it as a condemnation, but as her initial thought upon reading my post.
Her comment did make me think about the reasons I blog. It certainly isn’t to become rich and famous, and blogging has wreaked nine kinds of hell on my already lackadaisical housekeeping skills. After thinking and thinking…
…I came to the conclusion that I write merely to write.
-Sometimes I shoot for originality. How might I twist this phrase or that to say something banal in a decidedly fresh way?
-Sometimes I just need to share the moments of my life with a few photos and captions.
-Sometimes I feel like a kid and need to be silly.
-Sometimes there’s scarcely a point to be found in my writing, even if I’m the one looking for it.
-Sometimes I write in poetry what I cannot say in prose.
Yes, my friend was right. My stocking post was decidedly lacking in originality. Hopefully I’ll be able to continue writing such pieces for many years to come.
Peace, people!
caffeine
booze
antidepressants
throw them all away
smash the bottles
discard the pills
try to find the you
that exists
without
any edges
I’ve been slowly weaning myself off of the antidepressant, Effexor. So far, so good. While I’ve had a few of the side effects that come with withdrawal (i.e. headaches, brain zaps, etc.) they’ve not yet been overwhelming.
While I’m at it I’ve decided that I might as well stop drinking wine and coffee, too; although, I’m not quite ready to give up my one “hoppy” beer in the evening. I think I’m doing pretty well. Let’s see what Studly has to say:
Seriously, if you don’t hear from me in a few days it means I’ve gone off the deep end.
Peace, people!
saw Star Wars VII
was blown away,
but just what happened
i cannot say.
there were some droids
and space ships, of course
along with tons of action
and use of the Force.
scoundrels and wookies
who still own my heart
princesses grown up
and jedis apart.
there’ll be no spoilers
forthcoming this day,
but see it asap
so we can discuss, okay?
rain blessed monday
peace abounds
beads of golden autumn leaves
linked through and around
while squirrels scamper
acorns to bury
in preparation for Florida’s
winter fury.
Our cats, Patches and Scout, insisted that I join them outside on the screened in porch this afternoon. After a brief nap with Scout nestled on my lap and Patches in the chair beside me I began watching the gray squirrels zipping around and hiding nuts like there is no tomorrow. I hope they aren’t disappointed by our dearth of winter weather. Maybe I’ll invite the little darlings inside for hot cocoa.
she saw him stopped at a red light
dull green army jacket over a
white t-shirt with AC/DC emblazoned
boldly across his thin chest.
she can only imagine the list of
tour dates on the back.
this isn’t her boy
she knows that,
but the glimpse is enough to bring
a smile to her eyes and
the taste of salt on her lips
memory’s gentle nudge.
better, she knows, to have
spent this life with another
carry on Angus
rock on Bon
This poem was inspired by photographer/graphic designer, Julie Powell, whose blog I follow on WordPress. Check out her work and insights at https://juliepowell2014.wordpress.com/
Softly lies the mist
soothing mirrored surfaces
silent secrets kept
geometrics
squares within squares
within squares
and on into
infinity
stare tunnel-ward
feel the draw of hyperspace
or shrink into
nothingness, as near
as possible
at the epicenter
just a dot stands guard;
a placeholder
hinting at the end of
this world
or a precipice
into a universe beyond
tunnel’s end
oh, such exquisite
possibilities.
I’m no artist, and that’s probably why my time fiddling with an Etch-a-Sketch consisted primarily of drawing decreasing squares until I could go no further. The resulting tunnel provided countless hours of contemplation for me as a child. I’m either incredibly imaginative or unbelievably dull.
Peace, people!
Praying for Eyebrowz 