No Calamity Jane

No Calamity, Jane
G.I.Jane doesn’t want a Barbie
She wants bullets to flow
Hitting targets and bullseyes
Quick and sure

None of Mom’s domestic chains
Just enough oil for this girl
To lube her gun and no flaws
In her aim

Never mind pop - loud bangs and booms!
She’s got her wings and is thinking straight
Digging deeper fir the treasure; They’ll be
No middle ground

No sitting around wasting syllables
Trying to get rhythm when there’s rotten
To be hunted and good to be set straight
Fight for right

G.I.Jane just wants combat boots
She want sot see the world
And make it safe for the children she might have
One fine day

JP/davh

Tues Feb 7, 2012)
for Reverie #5 Sound and Fury
http://namingconstellations.wordpress.com  Joseph Harker

This was my second try. My first attempt is over at Joseph's place in the comments at Reverie #5

grey

great winds blow chilled air
rushing out of the mouths of
east, west, north and south cloud gods
yesterdays melted snow will be replaced tonight

gravel spread upon the weathered
roads attempts to break up black ice
eating away at the macadam and concrete roads
yielding under the pressures of those tires that dare to tread

geese attempt flight but are forced to the ground
robbing them of the extra distance they seek
easy their lot is not, in suburbs or farmers’ field there may be better fair
yards in the cities are just to small for even a small flock to rest

gusts tug at my muffler, teases my bear cheeks
roiled debris tries to find moors in the mists of my eyes
even blinking constantly, sight is obscured with living shadow
yearning to take even the slightest breath away from the brave

gradually one can settle behind the doors of home
removing layers of clothing - that failed to protect
even the walls appear to groan with the weight of woe from the Four
yaws that seem to remain open tossing their fury while they can

JP/davh

blAck

blAck

blending old fears with unreconciled
longing - I wonder how is it I give my true name
Alone in a crowd - a classroom - one of this nights’ dreams,
captivated by the test I am supposed to complete
kicking myself under the table for loosing my place so quickly

borrowing supplies, fiddling lockers and locks -
lost again in familiar surroundings
Another night, in my bed alone
comfort is an illusion as I twist and turn and
kick the covers off to cool the air and force wakefulness

beasts roam the darkened stage freely
longing to tug at one’s unconscious mind
An unfamiliar voice whispers in my mind
calling and rescuing me from the
knight who doesn't wear white

bowing to the dawn, thankful for the pale morning
light - I venture to see if at the six o’clock hour
Another body might actually be out and about
cautiously I peer out the front window
keenly I spot and watch the neighbor walk his dog

but I think it is just too early for me to rise
let me try and rest just another hour to
Alter the cobwebs that seem to stick to the
corners of my eyes, while in the silence of my home
kind familiar sounds assure me I am safe...I am safe

JP/davh

whIte

Weds Feb 8, 2012

whIte

whittling away the landscape
hiding colors from view
I ponder what it would be like
to have had to trek through,
egress across mountains to freedom

winding up snake curved paths
hiding in caves without the luxury of fire
I think of the time when my feet have been cold
trembling, stiff while shivering,
enveloped in socks and shoes riddled with holes

wrestling with gravity to slow descent
hitting every single stone with toe and heel
I refrain from shedding tears
time for crying will come when
echoes ring across new horizons

whine, how can anyone complain - those of us who
have so much - so the streets are not paved in gold
I want to wake from this dream
together with others - become a lifeline
extending what ever we can to help those still yet to cross

when will the dawn break
how can my sighted eyes see anything different as
I look out onto the smoothly sculpted hill and valley
together blended into one continuous seemingly
endless, undisturbed monotone - I hope for an early spring

JP/davh

Flounder?

http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com host Brenda... Wordle #42
staccato, billows, dubious, dart, ruins, exile,
petulat, fuses, metallic, rebellion, latch, scar

Flounder?

Staccato waves hurled the vessel,
Poseidon waging his own rebellion
Against the metallic hulls of warring humans
This was not a petulant act by the
God and Father of the sea

The young sailor wished he were aboard
An old three master, perhaps in the crows nest or even
An attendant to the billows for an old cooks’ stove
Even with the latch secure, his thoughts about survival
This night were dubious

Coral one of many daughters to the ocean king
had a talent her father often respected...
So out of the wreckage and the ruins
The innocent young man was pulled -
Perhaps in exile he would recover?

Away from the exploding fuses of weaponry
The young man was dazed to find himself alone on an isle
Not far from a pristine pool, mirror smooth
Reflecting his face and the long scar now across his left cheek
He did not see the mermaid dart to and fro to catch the same vision

When will men cease there fighting all the merfolk asked
Each other in conversation round the calming kelp beds
As they watched the mighty ruler and one of his daughters
Swim hand and hand away from blood soaked sunken ships -
Share a knowing smile... not all had perished in that storm!

JP/davh

Fair Trade Wimsy

for http://namingconstellations.wordpress.com by Joseph H’s Reverie #4 Lovely as a Tree

Sat Feb 4, 2012 Fair Trade Wimsy

He wants a story, perhaps one that isn’t even true
One that he doesn’t have to search for in the vast forest
Of information that I blinded him with on that first evening
That we met at the end of his uncles pier - the knotted wood
Telling their own tales of where they branched out and grew
And in their death made into a use to serve, as they feel they
Must, their destiny on this planet to burn or used, always to be used...

So then I think of his fairy garden, where in the spring snow drops,
Bleeding Hearts, and Daffodils allow bees to make sweet honey...
And I think of my sweet pearls missing the warmth of my skin
Carefully bagged in velvet to keep them safe - traded out for the diamonds
That sparkle like the stars at night - he says matches the twinkle in my eyes
He adds another log to the fire, and sits beside me on the love-seat
The very one his great-grandparents courted on...While being chaperoned

As young ones, I begin, with smile curving on my lips to say I am making this up...
We all at one time or another have to seed the oyster beds...
After all we have the smallest hands and fingers and we are ever so gentle
When we tickle those hard shells our sea friends know what’s coming
And yet they let us place one tiny grain of salt under their fine chins
I wonder what is the bigger irritation, us children or the sand?
He smiles, for he knows of my touch...his eye close feigning sleep...

JP/davh

Tall Tales

Weds Feb 1, 2012
Painting of tall tree forest by Ivan Shiskin via the Tuesday Tryouts at
margoroby.wordpress.com (Jan 31, 2012)

Tall Tales

Though my first and truest love will always be the ocean
I have had some time during the day while my dearest works
To wander beyond the fields and into the forest...

I am not so lonely here as I thought I would be
On my ivory stick legs, still wobbling from new birth
These ancient trees remind me of sea kelp towering, climbing...

Every reaching to get to and perhaps break the surface
Little does the green plant know the limitations of land and air
Though I suspect the trees would not fair well with a salt diet

And too the blocked sun through the dark shaded underside
Of the emerald greens helps me to cope with the azure blue sky
I wear the diamonds that my new husband has gifted me...

They remind me of the stars that seem to be the same
Over land and sea...a familiar map leading me to dreams
Of hidden treasure and the family that may pine for me

Yet there are hidden gems to explore in my new home
His families old Victorian with generations of flotsam and jetsom
Though through his eyes each item bears a tale worth telling

And I will sit with him after our evening meal
In front of a warming hearth fire and listen to his tales
And watch his face alight with the telling, isn’t that what a wife should do?

JP/davh