Those madcap Victorian horsewomen were super confident
Silly when you realize they were riding at breakneck speeds, sidesaddle
In those day a woman did not know it was okay to wear pants.
The closest thing she could be caught alive in would be pantaloons.
I am staring at the screen years later, wondering ….
Do they break their tailbones when they fall off?
Or do their bustles serve as a landing pillow?
Categories:
tailbones, nostalgia,
Form: Free verse
The highway of life is full of potholes and bumpy pavement that at times seems to turn our lives into one major jar to our tailbones after another. We survive the constant pounding as best we can with a smile and a gritty determination to make it through to our final destination, wherever that may be. It seems we have little choice but to make the best of things as life comes at us and keeps coming at us time after time again testing our durability and stick-to-itiveness. Even as we age one might think life would ease up on its constant pounding but instead it just keeps right on with a new deluge of rights and lefts to the chin just to remind us that the bumpy road ain’t at its end until life says it’s at its end. So life isn’t that “bowl of cherries” some would have us believe. It’s a hard road but it’s a road that we must all travel once thrust naked into a world where mysteries abound and beauty drenches the landscapes of this planet called Earth that we call home where time is the unrelenting master and the vastness of space becomes the next road we must seek to conquer as we return to the dust from which we came.
Categories:
tailbones, life,
Form: Prose
Sitting on the end jetty stone
wet to knees in higher waves
as granite wears into aching tailbones
Toes cramp in shiver shudder cold
gripping and clawing at permafrost wind chill
like a washed out windswept sandstone toothache
throbbing and thundering in
captured cloudburst passion
High tide clasping wet claw reach
at ever pulling moon brings with it
all the feeding energies of cyclic ravenousness
filling rips and eddies with teeth
and tongues of layered hungers
And there, at the peak of all this energy,
one sits in lonely tear filled sadness
Absolutely oblivious to any of this natural occurrence
waiting in silence,
impervious to agonizing cold,
lost in sick, sodden,sullen, solitude,
waiting,
simply waiting.
An alabaster, claw hammered remnant of refuse
on an otherwise empty section of entrance
to harbor and home.
Categories:
tailbones, loss,
Form: Blank verse