Normal Magic

Lillian is the host of Open Link Night on dVerse Poets Pub and one of her sayings is “Normal” is a setting on a dryer.(lillian) Which got me to thinking about my own sayings that I use a LOT right now. One of which is: “Average is a mathematical equation; normal is an illusion.” (JPP). So in honor of all the times people have said to me “this is the new normal” only to hear “normal is an illusion” I give you …

Normal Magic

They call it the new normal
for me it’s another day
of masks and social distance
and, really, that’s Okay

Normal never did mean
all that much to me
it’s just a grand illusion
whose source I cannot see

So I walk my path alone
isolation’s not so tough
for I have magic in my veins
and for me that’s quite enough

Secret Garden – Nocturne (Lyric Video) ft. Anne Takle

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP

dVerse Haibun — Birthday Magic

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

Kim881 from Writing in North Norfolk, is our host for this week’s Haibun Monday

“For this challenge, I ask you to think about your own birthdays, ones from the past, one that is coming up, a memorable one, or one you are dreading. Whether it’s birthday cake and balloons, a quiet glass of wine on your own that turned into something memorable, or a complete disaster, I’d like you to share a birthday with us.”

Birthday Magic

Born on a cusp with an aura of blue, a child between signs. Always looking for where she fit in. Black and orange confetti, fairy costumes and pumpkins as happy children dance around the cake table. A birthday wish for magic and a pony.

Birthdays come and birthdays go. Her aura darkens as does the world. No dinner, no parties, nowhere that she fits in. No need to hide her blackened eye. Alone, she makes her birthday wish for magic and love.

Moons wax and wane as life goes on. She finds love again, and trust. Purple and black decorations, a pointy hat adorned with flowers, love and laughter. Amber eyes twinkle with merriment. No need for birthday wishes, she has all she needs, she IS magic.

Candle burning bright
years come and go by too fast
blow the candle out

Strange Magic — ELO

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP

Sunday Stills – Life’s a Beach

Many thanks to Cathy over at Picture This for hosting Sunday Stills for us during Terri’s August blogging break. Our prompt for this week is “Beautiful Beaches”

March of the sand crabs – Kauai, Hawaii

I was born to be a mermaid
but by nature was betrayed
to live this false existence
and walk this world on legs
the ocean’s song still sings
within my heart and mind
peace and calm engulf me
as I watch the waves unwind

View from GuLangYu Islet off the coast of Xiamen, China

Beach at Wakatipu Lake – Queenstown, NZ

Surf on Oahu, Hawaii

Stronger — Under the Sea: A Descendants Short Story

til next time ~maluhia ~JP

One Liner Wednesday — Scraps of Poetry and Madness

For Linda’s One Liner Wednesday — For all of us struggling to process and adjust to the “new normal” of 2020.

Artwork from my polyvore collection

“My brain hums with scraps of poetry and madness.”
~Virginia Woolf

Mirage — Lindsey Stirling

Til next time ~Peace ~JP

dVerse Poetics — Flight of Fancy/Dance of Death

Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay

Our host a dVerse Poets Pub Tuesday Poetics is Laura Bloomsbury, who asks us for our flights of fancy. The following is based on a real life observation of a nesting pair of Great Horned Owls who were being tormented by a scold of very noisy jays. One of the adult owls defiantly lured the jays away and suddenly turned on them, snatching one unwitting fellow right out of the air.

Flight of Fancy/Dance of Death

Whump, whump, whump the air throbs
under the assault of massive wings
three powerful strokes and he is aloft
master of the thermals

He dips one wing in silent condolence
to the pitiful flightless things below
while defiantly flying straight
into the scold of jays, and through

He climbs ever higher, taunting
inconsequential forms of lesser birds
that fall behind in the chase
still jeering they cluster … until

Pivoting on one wing, he falls
with sharp talons and flared wings
like an avenging angel set to smite
their relentless taunting

A silent cloud of black feathers
announces his success

Fly Like an Eagle — Steve Miller Band

Til next time ~Peace ~JP

Sunday Stills — Yellows of Summer

 

Black-eyed Susans near Rapid City SD

For Terri’s Sunday Stills our prompt is “yellow”

Yellows of Summer

Brittle yellow grass
crunches beneath my feet
trees drop their leaves
yellow with drought stress
Black-eyed Susans
and Marigolds wink
at the summer heat
while children run
through sprinklers
and adults pray
for rain

Yellow Wisteria at Lake Wakatipu near Queenstown, NZ

Canal Boats – Suzhou, China

 

Yellow Submarine — The Beatles

Till next time ~Peace ~JP

SoCS -Checkered Summer

Our Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt is “check/cheque/Czech.” Use one, use ’em all, use ’em any way you’d like. Have fun!

The view out my window is pretty typical of this summer. An odd checkerboard of bright green and straw tan grass, mottled patches where the rain has not reached or hail has damaged. It’s rather odd to my mind how even though I spend considerably more time at home this summer, there are still more empty boxes on my to do list than there are checks. I’m missing the summer days of checked tablecloths and carry out fried chicken.

My new metaphor for “weird and crazy” has become “2020” as in “do not ring the door bell, dogs will bark, I will yell and things will go all kinds of 2020.” Or, “Do NOT make me go all 2020 on your a**.” The humorous applications are endless.

All that aside, life is all about checks and balances, and I know that eventually the pendulum will swing back. For now, I’m going to check another item off my list.

Check Yes or No — George Strait

Til next time ~Peace ~JP

Open Link Night – July Came

Image by WikimediaImages from Pixabay

For dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night. This has been a crazy summer, from pandemics to devastating hail storms. There is a moment before the storm hits when you can almost feel the sky holding her breath … waiting. This summer feels like that to me, as we deal with rising death rates, more lock downs; I’m holding my breath, waiting. The air is moist and oppressive, lightning startling in it’s beauty and power. I don’t know how this will all turn out, but I know this; the sky is always clearer after the storm.

July

July came marching in sultry cadence
as heat rises and skies darken
for a moment all is still
a breeze caresses my cheek
scented with lingering traces
of bar-b-que, sunscreen and sweat
heavy with petrichor and promise

The wind begins to sing
through high tension wires
trees sway in a frantic dance
holding fast to precious leaves
cloth billows and strains
in air heavy with moisture
the scent of roses … and magic

Black cloud castles
remain still and unmoved
anchored to the blue sky
and the lightning begins
I wonder what the storm
will leave in it’s wake
but for now, I watch
and wait

Shelter from the Storm — Bob Dylan

Til next time ~Peace ~JP

Sunday Stills – The Wild and Weird Ones

For Sunday Stills our prompt is Wild and Weird

What a wildly appropriate prompt for this week. You see, I am one of those weird people. You know the ones who always know the moon phase. The ones who talk about the demise of betelgeuse, use coconut oil for everything, have an herb or an essential oil suggestion for any complaint. We talk about Woodstock, and the day John Lennon died, listen to music by Janis Joplin, Cage the Elephant, Omnia and George Strait with equal abandon. We’re the ones with the wild sparkle in our eyes, the messy hair, and perpetually dirty feet. We are the Star Seeds and Indigos, the lovers and the dancers. The ones who see all the pain and horror of this world, but love it anyway. Long live the wild and the weird! 🙂

Painted Bull at Taoyuan airport,Taiwan

And just to prove that art is truly international
A painted bull buffalo from Custer, South Dakota

courtesy of Mother Nature, a dew drenched caterpillar tent on a juniper shrub

Wild Child — Enya

Til next time ~Stay wild, moon child ~JP

Stream of Consciousness Saturday — Links in the chain

For Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday

Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt is “link.” Use it as a noun or a verb; use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

I’ve been distracted lately. Overwhelmed is more like it. If you want to witness some definitive examples of whacked out human behavior, try working in a recreational venue, in a tourist town, in the midst of a pandemic. The lock down has been lifted, people are pouring in with no visible concern for safety precautions, like it’s all over. Meanwhile the exposure and death rates continue to rise. Laughter is forced, tempers are short, and common courtesy has been lost in the frenetic scramble to have “fun.” Combine this with hotter than normal weather, several damaging hail storms and this normally gentle land is a tinder box of dry prairie grass just waiting for a spark.

With so many of the outer planets in retrograde, it’s really a crazy time for emotionally driven individuals and HSP’s such as myself. The link between anger, aggression, general weirdness and the pandemic and retrogrades I’m sure is strong but what the answer is eludes me. So for now I’ll be staying in as much as possible while concentrating on emotional detox and healing, shielding and grounding. If I can’t break the link, perhaps I can loosen the chain.

The Chain — Fleetwood Mac

Til next time ~Peace ~JP