Many women feel they have lost themselves, either during pregnancy, postpartum, or maybe in the process of raising their children. We used to go have fun and do whatever we pleased, not worried about consequences. We used to wear clothes that showed off our bodies without hesitation or not leave the house without a full face of makeup. We used to be down to have fun anytime day or night no matter the hour. Now we take care of a house and family, worrying about getting everyone else squared away. Now we dress in whatever is fast, hiding the imperfections under baggy clothes just to feel comfortable. Makeup is never a thing unless it’s a special occasion or funeral. Now we have fun maybe twice a month if we are not too touched out by day's end. Never did I think I would have to schedule that quality time. You might not look the same. You might not feel the same. But keep pushing forward, I promise it will get better.
Love, your future self.
The Lady of the Night
Alone, Luna dominates the sky,
glowing from Sol’s reflected light.
Her mares, dark blotches set
against the white light.
She is the queen of the night sky,
full face proudly displayed.
Strange things are said to happen
when she rides her chariot across the sky.
Wolves utter
lonesome cries.
Cursed individuals take the
form of the werewolf.
Humans go stark raving
mad.
We have physically touched her face
six times.
We have found her to be a harsh mistress
with no room for error.
She attracts our attention like no
other night figure.
We will return, she is that gilded
lady that beckons us.
We cannot stay away.
A sunflower stands tall, enthrall,
A hidden gem in an empty field,
High on its long unbranched, stem,
Plate size, hue yolk-yellow, full face,
With a mild, sweet, nutty scent.
A drop of red-berry jam on its hem.
Ruffled young dragonfly raced,
A wild attraction of folly feast.
Sherry, the little fairy sat in its place.
Dragonfly, raises its wings, weave, flit,
Stopped and hovered, got a sniff.
Biff, tiff, turned its nose and flew off.
12/16/2024
Shawn was full of blarney most of his youthful days
with his full face, his emerald eyes and his ginger hair
He sang Irish ditties in knee slapping ways
When he had too much beer at the Dublin fair
He is so rotund, so Rubenesque, so big, some said.
Santa Claus is too, said his wife, her head totally red.
She liked everything about her chubby happy man.
Loved him completely, as only a second wife can.
Lullaby
Moonbow cradle songs
Sing through sheer corona mists
In grace notes of acapella hues
While golden lunar lentos
Of twilight lunar rainbows,
Crowning Luna’s full face,
Arch with andante’s touch
Like a wrinkle in reality
In haunting flutters on the wind song
Drifting into enchantment and out of time.
A tone poem surrendered in a perfumed arbor
Settles chaos conjured in the cosmos
With gentle rhymes of barcarolles
That rock with moonlight’s tremolo touch
A drowsy art song paints the tuberose perfume
To soothe earth, sky and penitent soul
In beauty revealed by moonlit rhapsody
Where lyrics of sleepy harmonies
Doze to the cadence of blazing stars
Wrapped in astral quilts, nodding in serenity.
3-14-23
Contest: L Poems
Sponsor: Constance La France
A "moonbow" is a lunar rainbow created by water droplets and the light of the moon.
Blazing stars are night blooming flowers.
As i languish in your lunar lick
moonbows hovering in petrol scented skims
coping with copious crescent chapters
Fooling its full face with greying mists that etch like moving scars and wrinkles
Sat in your light, keep me watching while slowly stealing seconds
Mother asked her big brother to pass the sugar;
big brother ruined it by splashing on liquor;
father rued spilt liquor by throwing his jigger
that hit sister who lit an elbow hard slammer
straight into the hand of their rare guest and butcher;
butcher stood to secure a full-face slap on her;
slap missed, striking their napping, fat cat to a blurred
flying fur on shriek tour that dog crashed with claws bore;
clawed dog wailed and bailed, dragging tail out wee dog door
where he ran to distance pain until a looper
stopped his scooter – close by was one giant cougar;
too pooped to care, tired dog flopped right then and right there;
dog closed eyes, cougar cleared throat, then croaked, ‘Hey, Lassie,
are you insanely blind to cougar claw lugers?’;
dog moaned, ‘A quick cougar corker beats home murder.’
The sun slipped back his bag and yawned
A day for today was gone
And into the sea he took a plunge
Splashing the sky in colours
The stars arrived seconds later
They were scattered all across
They gossiped, talked and took a swirl
Sparkled in the speck of the giant blue wall
And slowly the blue seeped in its arms the grey
Until black spread like the roots of the sprouting weeds
Unstoppable, flying around setting a blotch,
Wherever it set it's crawly feet.
The stars worried, little foot soldiers
And trembled and trembled to twinkle brighter
And wherever they sparkled they tore the dark
In pieces, specks and sparks
Until she walked in around the haze of her cloud
A sweet pearly lustre trailed loud
She walked and embraced the dark
And wherever she touched the bright lurked
A round full face smiling bright
Like a mother cradling her child
A little pale at the edges but oh her beautiful eyes
To some she reminded the lover in dream
To the nocturnal world she is the sublime queen
And to her exhausted yellow brother, the caring twin.
“The wind rides in solitude
In her diaphanous delight.
Her skirts brush eternity
To gather the stars of night.”
Forever the stars she gathers
will magically move in the sky.
Their dance is the style of Glitter-bug
as they shimmy till morning is nigh.
The man in the moon watches them.
You’ll see how brightly he glows
to see those shimmying stars
on nights when his full face he shows.
And we, the witnessing earthlings,
whose eyes on the night’s sky gaze,
can more than just view the beauty
of nature’s most wondrous ways.
We also can live the wind’s joy
as her skirts among the stars twirl,
for her talents extend to valleys and hills.
Over all the world she can whirl.
Poets, look up to the heavens.
With imagination embrace
the dance of the stars in the heavens
while feeling the wind on your face.
May 5, 2021 (using Stanza 4 given by Joseph May for my first stanza)
For Joseph May's Choose Your Form Poetry Contest
For the 'ALL YOURS (JUN 1)' Poetry Contest of Brian Strand
I want the sparkle of my eyes to stay
twinkling in the midst of dark, blue, and gray,
Like a shining star up in the heaven
That will never ever fade nor weaken.
I like to joyfully gaze at the moon,
With the night sky, her full face is in tune,
With her entire disk illuminated,
She brings bright light to my heart and my head.
The cloud above is in amazing shape,
The beautiful form doesn't make me gape,
It is very nice to paint in my mind
the image that is a masterpiece kind.
The beacon with a shining light and smile
makes my life start to go the extra mile.
Frozen by uncontrollable, invisible angst
thriving on my anxiety
Motions to emotions of anchors, wrapped chains hold me down
Unable to escape for freedom
The body lays,
drowning in breath, air that is poison
Movements that were once freely by choice of living in normalcy withered down to fragments of imagination
Force to walk from safety into depths of the pandemic for green that dulls out dollar signs for weekly survival
While vaccines are far and few the battle to contain is only fleeting
Variants began to thrive as half the population lay in a lie
Death comes....surrounds us all
My mind says to flee and the body agrees but the greed in America ties me down to the depths of hell to earn green in order to serve the affluent that offers a little piece of survive ability by paying a sum
The mind shatters-
with winds blown from the nose of the selfish
Chin guards adorn from selfish souls to those who walk across stores adorn in there full face not blocked by life saving mask
Forever blue in lost days lost life to the lies that killed thousands of thousands
I'd wanted a boob job for years
Loud moaning was all my hub's hears
Neath the tree there's a voucher
Soon I won't be a sloucher
Hubs thoughtfulness brought me to tears
His present was such a fab gift
Boob implants and a full face lift
Now blokes ogle and stare
You should see hubby glare
This present has now caused a rift
Next year on our pine Christmas tree
A voucher for more surgery
With huge boobs I was cursed
I'll have the op reversed
Not all gifts will make you happy
FICTION POEM FOR CHRISTMAS LIMERICK CONTEST
Sponsored by Alexis Y
12/04/20
She opened the door and tiptoed in,
golden luscious hair, tossed to spin,
her legs were naked,longer on heels,
Here she was with my evening meals!
Blue eyes smiling behind black lashes,
Mask on face and shoe without laces!
She adjusted bed to serve me food,
For man of romance, so far so good!
She poured me water, from a bottle,
My heart was going at full throttle!
Her perfume put my mind in a trance
Every bit of me was up for romance!
Some evening she brought me a treat!
My high fever was all from love heat!
one day she slowly took off her mask,
poured me coffee from thermos flask,
That was the day I saw her full face,
her smile was running out of space.
From that day on, mask she never wore,
With every smile I was in love even more!
fever came down, the bill was high,
I left the hospital with a deep sigh!
Now I wander in thunder and in rain
So I can get sick and go back again!
Written 21/07/2020
Premier competition winner
10 to 20 lines on Mask
Sponsor Mohan Chutani
With one big bright eye, Sun, King of the sky,
looks down on us, but not always mellow.
In summertime, he shoots rays from that eye,
sometimes so mightily, grass turns yellow
or streams run dry beneath the King's stern stare.
His queen, the moon, shows not so mad a face.
She takes his place when night's cool fills the air.
She rules among the shining stars with grace,
for she is beautiful. La Luna's light
seduces lovers. Moonstruck we may be
when she shows forth her full face in the night.
Although her beams are soft, power has she!
She pulls high tides toward her. Unlike the sun,
she takes no credit for Sun's glory days.
Eight phases she goes through. A timid one?
Perhaps she's simply got a woman's ways!
May 28, 2020
For The Sun and the Moon Contest
of Chantelle Anne Cooke
The night crawls in, with large circling rings of smokes, diffusing.
Measuring moments in time, needed to cover up your full face.
The lonely lady on the moon is still stuck with her crafting machine.
Poetry, in my mind, cries out loud, with all curses of old Babylon.
The mysterious angels of Babylon with all prohibitions to venture.
With all depression, I was observing the glowing sun in the night sky, determined.
Poésie de ma vie! Why such a rush to lift the veil of uncertain? Why such a hurry?
I saw the lady again with mystic tears in her eyes;things must be hard on her too!
She never learned to abandon the love into oblivion,or truth of the night before
Perhaps, she will look into the eyes of those forbidding voices, soon!
As, not all circles are promised to wipe out some squares in life, seemingly.
And I heard the night whispering to me," I'm just getting started!"
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