OctPoWriMo Day 22 – Trinet Wordleling – October 22, 2015


Hummingbird moth
[Nexus nunchi]
Lissome avian – from flower to flower –
Gamboled with bonhomie – puncturing-sucking nectar …
Clay pottery
Holding plants
Suddenly shattered

Predatory bird
Swooping down
Had attacked the moth’s tenable position
Which flew laterally in a vacuum
Of safety
Avoiding neatly
Getting et

© G.s.k. ‘15

This is a scheduled post, since today I’m in Padua for my son’s graduation. Thanks for reading this post.  Georgia (Bastet)

1.Tenable (capable of being held, maintained, or defended, as against attack or dispute) 2. Lateral 3. Avian 4. Lissome (supple, flexible) 5. Nunchi (the subtle art of listening which allows you to gauge other people’s mood and respond appropriately.) 6. Gambol (to skip about, frolic) 7. Puncture 8. Nexus 9. Pottery 10. Trachea 11. Vacuum 12. Bonhomie (frank and simple good-heartedness; a good-natured manner;friendliness; geniality.)


Mindlovemisery’s Monday Wordle – Mindlovemisery’s Photo Challenge# 82, October 13, 2015 and B&P’s Shadorma & Beyond – Trinet

Fisherman’s Wife – Long Canzone – September 10, 2015

- Maciej Koniuszy

Listen now to her verses
As she pretends to ignore her pain
She plays with scarlet words in verses
Remembering those long-lost verses
Before the silence of her lover’s voice
He sang his songs in Italian verses
[rhythmic harmonic verses]
Of fishing as the dawn broke in the sky
And hunting gulls circled high in the sky –
(She loved his syncopated disjointed verses)
Like all fishermen who sails the sea –
He left one morn – now she looks to the sea

Try to pretend that the mighty sea
Is the lover sung in seaman’s verses
More a curse than a lover is the sea
[though fascinating is the blue-green sea]
She’s a sower of pain
A mean master is the grim sea
She tolerates no distractions, heed the sea
Or she will ill raise her keening insistent voice
[imperative and imperious voice]
Many perish into the sea
At morning’s first light in the sky
Until the last star appears in the sky

Inscriptions are written in the sky
In memory of those who are lost at sea
Unheeded by the bright blue sky
Demanding wails launched into the sky
With a sour stench of putrid verses
Mothers and wives cry for mercy from the sky
But they receive no comfort from the sky,
And even her infinite song of pain
[no one can ever ease that pain]
Is mixed in the west wind carrying her voice
As she sings for him – in her broken voice

“Ah lover hear my golden voice
As I raise my plea up to the sky
Hear my words as I give pain a voice
[hear the longing for you in my voice]
Return now from the treacherous sea
Hear now our lovemaking in my voice
I’m holding you tight here with my voice
With the panting words of our special verses
[remember the nights we composed those verses]
How you harmonized with my voice …
Don’t leave me here with this longing pain
[come and ease my longing pain]”

Fisherman’s wife with knowing pain
Raises each night her sombre voice
To an indifferent golden sky
For her husband lost at sea
In her haunting and lamenting verses.

© G.s.k. ‘15

THIS WEEK’S WORDS come from The Poet Slave of Cuba: A Biography of Juan Francisco Manzano by Margarita Engle: play, pretend, scarlet, flying, verses, scars, holding, inscriptions, silence, shoes, demanding, stench

Whirligig 23
Mindlovesmisery’s Photo Challenge

B&P’s Shadorma and Beyond – The Canzone

The long form of the Canzone is as follows:

5 stanzas of 12 lines – repeating word endings following the pattern below … no special rhythmic formula.

envoy: ABCDE

Sanatorium – Thoughts – September 3, 2015

- oprisco

Can you imagine being in a sanatorium, let’s say in the late 1800s.  Perhaps where you are suffering from the late stages of tuberculosis or as it was known then, of consumption.

You would have been given a bed in a ward with many others, where you could have listened to the concert of each one coughing with their own variety of gentle or not so gentle cough.

Blood mixed with phlegm and rivulets of spittle would most likely run down your chin and dirty the not very hygienic sheets.  Since you were suffering from consumption … that is a malady believed back then to be caused by your passionate spirit, the obvious thing to do was to feed you with the dullest food possible – to calm that passionate and ardent spirit and aid you to regain your precarious health.  So you would have had probably thin barley soup – barley is said to be “refreshing” to the soul and body. Of course, if the sanatorium was on an upper class level you would be taken to the sulphur bathes where you would be lowered into the water with a special bathing costume … never nude … an embasan in Filipino.

Laying there, in that sombre ward imagine looking out of a window (certainly closed) and seeing a beautiful park with a tree, full of birds and bird houses.  Your mind isn’t ill, just your body, so perhaps you imagine as you watch the volitant activity of the birds, your own flight of freedom from all that dull horror of your everyday life.  Up up and away – into the brilliant blue sky of a bright Indian summer day finally free from pain and misery.

Of course, if you weren’t rich you wouldn’t even have had the opportunity to go to a sanatorium, you might have joined the ranks of those who died unattended, perhaps on the street.

File this all away for thought because here and now in the twenty-first century, we are free for the most part in our western world, of that terrible scourge and even if it were not so, I don’t think we would find such unhygienic sanatoriums in Western Europe or North America (not legal ones anyway) even the terrible insane asylums were closed in Italy in the 70s and 80s.

Many died from tuberculosis, before the cause and consequent campaign began to pasteurize milk, eliminate the cows that carried the malady and to vaccinate the population.  Milk pasteurization?  How many of us remember that the bacteria which caused so many deaths from, not only tuberculosis but also meningitis, was carried in infected milk?  Before the 1930s, many were the victims of tuberculosis, thanks to drinking milk, though of course there were other vectors this was one of the worst one of all.

© G.s.k. ‘15


Written for Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie’s  Wordle and Photo Challenge

1. Sterile 2. Dull 3. Rivulet 4. Barley 5. Volitant (engaged in or having the power of flight. Active; moving.) 6. Phlegm 7. Embasan (to wear clothes while taking a bath) 8. Precarious 9. Sanatorium (a hospital for the treatment of chronic diseases, as tuberculosis or various nervous or mental disorders.) 10. File 11. Sombre (it is just the British spelling of somber use whichever form you prefer) 12. Soup


Oh Radiant Youth – August 6, 2015

- Alexandre Deschaumes

– Alexandre Deschaumes

Oh radiant youth –
standing on the verge of life
heedless before life’s perils
he sails down the open river
mindless of the shallows
he can’t wait to get his teeth
into the meat of life
radiant he walks without a mask
(that will only emerge later)
soon he learns his bones can break
soon he learns those perils
as he walks the lonely track
that many walked before him …
then longing for serenity
after those first of life’s battles
he collapses into reflection
of the what life has thus revealed …
will he become a cynic,
will he be a saint,
or will he be yet another drifter
living from day-to-day?

© G.s.k. ‘15

Photo Challenge #72, Verge


The Sunday Whirl – 210


Lamp Lights and Music – Dinggedicht – July 14, 2015

- 5 letters

late autumn afternoon
in Champs Elysee
paradise of lamp lights
dancing in the wind …

the smell of cotton candy
fills the air with sweetness
the echoing of music
and call of raucous hawkers
a cacophony of sound …

all the trees are nude now
the leaves have all been swept
the chill seeps into my sweater
as the sun slowly sets …

walking in a daze
smiling at passersby
the children cry for candy
on this late autumn day …

magic fairy lights
came on one by one
and now this magic park
is a shelter in the storm …

innocence and beauty
play upon the trees
come walk with me my darling
once more in paradise.

© G.s.k. ‘15

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Photo Challenge- Illumine and B&P’s Shadorma & Beyond –  The Dinggedicht

The photo was found on the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s prompt.

Wordleing Tragedy – July 14, 2015

- 5 letters

5 letters (from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie)

dialing 112
that shattering evening
what had been a shady paradise
of drifting light and fun
transformed into the tragedy
of fingers poking from the carousel
the lolling horses no longer prancing
bathed in the wrathful tears
of a mother’s deep sorrow …
fairy lights danced in the night
under the Eiffel tower
ignoring the bomb
of a madman.

© G.s.k. ‘15

(this of course never happened in Paris that I know of … )


THIS WEEK’S WORDS come from “The Children Are Coming Slowly up the Stairs” by Thomas Hornsby Ferril: dialing, shattering, shady, drifting, poking, posts, fingers, loll, prance, bathe, wrathful, deep

Written for: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge # 69 and Sunday’s Whirligig


Sadness – Free Verse – June 16, 2015


another birthday gone
and again I wasn’t present
they grow each day so tall
and I’ve missed their growing-up
how life’s twists and turns
leaving so much just unfinished
still even now I look
and see that life goes on

cry not for me my friend
I do that enough myself
my road took me this way
it was a conscious choice you know,
when I was just a kid
fallen from my bike
I laid upon the road
watched the clouds drifting by
and saw that life goes on.

no ties no bonds no chains
and no affection too
once you’ve chosen this lonely road
no on can comfort you
dependence has a price
that everyone must pay it
but the children soon grow-up
like clouds they drift away
and still live goes on.

© G.s.k. ‘15


Photo Challenge #65, Sadness, June 16, 2015