Yoga (I Watched Him Stretch) – Rondine and Shadorma – October 26, 2014

Strecccchhhhhhhhh! And Photo Credits.

I watched him stretch his graceful limb
Beautiful – t’was the sight to see
I looked at him then down at me
Knowing I’m just not made like him …

Concentrating and feeling grim
(Thinking it better that I flee …)
I watched him stretch

I went to his course on a whim
A morning workshop which was free
(My shoulders ache, so does my knee …
His yoga took me to the rim)
I watched him stretch

ah yoga
memory of youth
relaxing
refreshing
but there’s yoga and yoga
limping, I reflected.

(c) G.s.k. ’14

 

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I went to a yoga workshop yesterday morning and to say the least it was an experience.  I’ve practiced yoga in the past and since the first course I took back in 1976, I’ve practiced it with other yoga masters and have also done Pilates, stretching, tai chi, and Aikido.  I’m a licensed Shatsu therapist, now retired because of arthritis in the knees and I admit, I’m out of shape.

I was expecting a normal yoga course with a little tai chi added (as he said) but what I found was a gauntlet, something that might be called “cross-over yoga”.  Most of the postures were on hands and knees with a lot of shoulder work.  We were 5 women .. average age 55 .. except for a lovely young thing of around 20 who had no problems at all. (Oh I’d told him of my physical problems btw.)The rest of us were stumbling and sweating like fountains, one lady felt nauseated from the efforts.

At the end of the meet, he asked us what we thought.  As usual the Italians (especially Trentini) are very courteous … one lady, a regular (who had had even more problems than I) said that it was easier than usual (I though: OMG!) … the other lady complained of her lack of co-ordination and said she probably shouldn’t have eaten breakfast before coming to the workshop … the third that she’d never practiced yoga in that way and found it delightfully challenging (!) … the young thing talked about her needing to improve her posture.

I, being an American and besides at nearly 63, let’s say a little outspoken, said that I found it far too advanced for me and if it was so easy for the first lady, I shuddered to think what difficult would be. At which point the campaign to convince me that it was a matter of working into the exercises to obtain the benefits of his version of yoga began (I said that if I survived, it would probably be very beneficial).

Afterwards out of earshot, two of the ladies agreed with me (cowards).  Ah to be young again ….

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The first poem  is a rondine …  was introduced by Jen on this week’s BJ’s Shadorma and Beyond for Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie.

The Rock People – August 7, 2014

 

Photo Credits – A Mixed Bag – Al Forbes

The Rock People

Down in the back garden, Wilber had put some of his painted rocks. He paints them up for sale, but his better pieces he keeps for himself. He says that they’re like scarecrows and keep the caterpillars and gnomes at bay.

He’s fixated with gnomes ever since his mom read him a fairy story about them years before. Of course rationally I think he knows they don’t exist, but deep down inside …
Last week he told me the gnomes had uprooted a few geraniums to make space for one of their hidey holes. That’s why he put the stones out to scare them off. I imagined that it was probably a gopher or a rabbit and those stones, though making the garden more interesting, were wasted.

He invited me to stay out with him one evening to guard the garden. It’d seemed like it might be fun to sit under the moon light with Wilber, so I said I’d come along.
It was around mid-night when we saw some tiny lights out near the plants. Fireflies I said to myself, except firefly season had long since passed. Then the rocks began to move!

“Collaborationists!” Wilber hissed.

He was a bit hasty, for the rocks with the mouths began to shout profanities and the eye shot out a blue laser beam type light. There, not a few feet away, were some scraggy little creatures dressed in mouse fur robes. I tell you, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The creatures took flight and the rocks were just looked like painted rocks again.

“Well that’s more like it.” Wilber sighed in contentment. Then he put his arm around my shoulders and began to kiss me.

“Not here Wilber.” I said, “Not in front of the rock people.”

Sunday Photo Fiction

Moonshine! – Wordleing – July 13, 2014

manufactured, honors, cheeky, side, millions, eclipse, hide, lackluster, shot, room, piece, throat

The cheeky lackluster shoemaker,
Manufactured millions of sleazy shoes,
For those who sought the dubious honors
Of being on the evening news ..

The President cleared his throat,
Before he made his speech,
He’d written and rewritten the piece
‘Til he could recite back to front ..

The shoemaker puffed up his chest,
When he saw the president:
“He’s worn my brand of shoes!”
He whispered to the bar-room guests…

But the news was soon eclipsed,
By the shot that shook the world ..
Little Tomasito Ghandi-Bloom
Sent a mini rocket, to the dark side of the moon!

“Now hide your heads in shame!”
Said a man without a name,
“‘Cause of what a mixed-blood kid could do,
Spending just over seventy-seven sou!”

 

Imabookworm … a friendly prompt (fun poem)

Today I went to visit a fellow blogger…who’s just starting out in this wonderful fantasy world we call blogosphere. The name of the blog is Imabookworm…and here was a friendly prompt offered…by a friend of course!

Plastic Pigs and Pizza,

This is what I wrote in the comments (I have “poetized” it here):

Pretty was the plastic piggy poster,
Perfectly presenting,
Preposterous perceptions of pepperoni pizzas;
The painters predicted presumptuously that,
The portentous poster could possibly pose problems
To the preponderant portion of the passersby
Who would be pottering past.

To read what Imabookworm came up with…drop by the blog, and why not add your own comment too!

Have a great day!  Bastet

Tanka – Age old Dilemma

ancient dilemma
as mortar crumbled to dust
hard choice to be made
before wisdom visited
shall I drink coffee or tea …

Rum Tum Tugger – Speakeasy #156

Rum Tum Hunter – Nonsense Poem

Rum Tum Tugger
of Eliot fame
went out a hunting
of a fine day
he’d indulged
in some very fine weeds,
tasty and crunchy
and
of rare quality …
He thought he’d hunt hares
as they came out of their lares
but then he stopped short
by a sight that he saw!

Two young hares,
rump to rump like duelling pistols,
crouched by the gate.
“Hey wait!”
said the cat
“now what is that?
Those hares are a duelling
crouched by a gate!”
His fur it did ruffle
then he left with a scuffle
the sight so uncanny
he decided
never
to go hunting again.

Oskar Wild – April 8, 2014

Nikita Veprikov

Oskar Wild – Nonsense Poem

Oskar Wild
was his name
though wild
he was not
should have been Homer
as in Simpson
for he was
so lazy and
a lover of food.
When I think
of his tastes,
an ascetic
he was not.
He laid like a pasha
on his pillow and yawned
when he came from his wanderings
sometime around dawn…

I once saw a painting
of a kitty like him …
it sat on a pillow
as
contemplating
the ravages
of Dorian Grey …
he looked quite the Rimbaud
in a room hung with grapes
with fishy wall paper
and a flute in his face
he wore a red scarf,
he was quite a dandy
and a key hung from a tripod
on a broken golden chain …

I know not the meaning
of that painting my friends
and the cat was quite furless
as naked as sin,
Oskar was fluffy
though in all else he resembled
the cat
in the portrait
I saw somewhere one day,
and so,  thought of him.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Photo Challenge – second try.

Wordle April 7, 2014

Silky pieces influence
The larval poet’s sonnet
Like latent lucid chrysalides
His winsome verses dilate …
They flicker for a moment
Accented in carnival bright lights
Waiting to be recited
By the hookah smoking man
With his broken capillaries.

Inspried by Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie Monday Wordle

From a Wordle – Aerial Creature – Nonsense Poem

With an anomalous straw
In an effluvium suspension
I created a voodoo creature,
That I placed in my attic.
Wrapped up in a blanket,
I placed it inside,
A silk-lined bassinet.
I could not recant
That the aerial creature
Which spawned from the straw
Wasn’t mine…
But
I cut it with some shears
Then sutured it and sang
Until with a whisper
I said the thing’s done!
But what it was,
I hadn’t a clue.

a wordle

Rules

1. Use at least 10 of the words

2. The words can appear in an alternate form for example Recant could appear as Recanter, Recantation, Recanted etc.

3. Use the words in any order that you like

Prompt found on Mindlovemisery Menagerie

Trifecta 33 Word Challenge – Week 113

Trifecta Challenge

Oh Dolittle ditty do
No, I’m not talking to you
Don’t try to worm the story from me
I’ve kept it quiet since 1963
The secret’s always been safe
That’s why I’m free!

@)—>—>—

Now on to the weekly challenge. Remember, we’re now looking for exactly 33 words.

Good luck and happy writing!

WORM (transitive verb)

1a : to proceed or make (one’s way) insidiously or deviously
b : to insinuate or introduce (oneself) by devious or subtle means
c : to cause to move or proceed in or as if in the manner of a worm
2 : to wind rope or yarn spirally round and between the strands of (a cable or rope) before serving
3 : to obtain or extract by artful or insidious questioning or by pleading, asking, or persuading —usually used with out of