Vilakazi,
in the riots of ’76,
Henderson,
in the shadows of ’77,
Bailey,
through the dark and bitter end:
Not sacrificing themselves
for a cause,
these ordinary men,
just rescuing
our hopes,
one act at a time.
Photo by RIP – © beeblu
Image via http://www.sxc.hu
We know
it’s our unclaimed baggage
at the station,
more than a few lockers full.
We don’t go there,
travel light,
well enough,
without it.
But impossible journeys
plague
our dreams.
No photo this week: I’m ambivalent about the whole kissing thing.
Sure, a kiss of any nature feels good (unless it’s from some lecherous golfing partner who’s intent on kissing instead of shaking hands) but then there’s that sound: like a dog licking itself or a person chewing with their mouth open – ewwww.
People kissing on the big screen or TV? Fine, just turn down the sound.
I thought this particular aversion was just another peculiar quirk of my ultra-cranky disposition, until a few years ago when a young colleague expressed his mystification at why his wife would fly into a blind rage whenever their spaniel would do his daily licking grooming.
“Does she have the same reaction to people kissing on TV?” I asked.
“Yes!!” he shrieked.
I was onto something.
I did some research. Turns out, it’s a disorder (Of course. What isn’t?!). And it goes by the name of Misophonia.
In my case, these rage-inducing noises are limited to certain mouth sounds in others: teeth-sucking, open-mouthed chewing, licking, slurpy kissing, lip-smacking, spaghetti-sucking, finger-licking (I guess you won’t be inviting me over for dinner any time soon, haha).
Actually, it’s not that bad – I don’t have to leave the room to deal with my neurological irrationality. Just wish I could use it to my advantage: I’d be soooo thin if I had the same reaction to the sound of my own chewing…
What about you? Are there any sounds that drive you beyond crazy?
****
For genuine entries to this week’s photo challenge, see The Daily Post.
Chocolate is essential.
It’s existential.
I did not, I repeat, did not attempt to bribe Nancy at Spirit Lights the Way with chocolate so she would include me as a semi-finalist in her ‘The Writer’s Desk Challenge’. 😆
Thanks, Nancy – I’m delighted.
Vote for your favourite entry here.
“Old and rare books!”, we gasped in reverent unison,
as we swerved off course, making a bee-line for the shop window.
“Don’t open ’til ten”, a chap behind us on the pavement drawled, the smoke from his early morning cigarette curling around his smile. He’d obviously seen our type before.
My niece and I were in Melbourne, relishing some girl-time. The day before we had spent a wonderful day at the Melbourne Museum, where we immersed ourselves in a shared love of all things scientific –
the wild,
the weird,
OK then, the weird…
..and the seriously mind-boggling.
This day we would spend the morning traversing Melbourne’s laneways, indulging our love of shopping, architecture and art,
and the afternoon marvelling at the mysterious workings of commercial harbours (Melbourne’s has quite a colourful history but I doubt that any internet resource can provide an as wry and amusing and account as our ferry driver did :lol:).
But about that bookshop – we made a mad dash back before closing time
and what a treasure trove it is – an extraordinary collection of enthralling books,
watched over
by the largest collection of owls I’ve ever seen –
they are everywhere, roosting in glass cases,
on pelmets, in windows and on bookshelves,
and have been mysteriously multiplying for the 47 years that Kay Craddock, the bookshop’s owner, has been in business.
But Old and Rare Books was nearing closing time and we were fading fast – a love of chocolate chocolate addiction is in our genes and we hadn’t had our Koko Black fix for the day,
so, after a quick purchase for the love of my life, we exited this wonderful place.
My niece and her husband were with us for three weeks over the 2012/2013 Festive Season: a wonderful and extremely precious time. We don’t know when we’ll see each other again; we live on different continents. But a myriad of shared interests and the deepest bonds of love keep us connected.
😀 😀 😀
More about Melbourne
Food recommendations from our trip:
Koko Black (of course!)
City Wine Shop (don’t let the name fool you – this establishment is not all about wine: their food is quite delicious – and their desserts are sublime!)
Longrain – the duck salad (which we shared) was superb, as was the banana and lime sorbet- yum, yum.
And for excellent photos of Melbourne, head over to Leanne Cole’s blog – mine can never do Melbourne justice the way that Leanne’s most certainly do.
For more entries to this week’s photo challenge, see The Daily Post.
I can never tell you
About that day…
It was the death of gravity, a falling
Away,
Unspeakable, unspeakable
Is all I can say, forever
It’s unspeakable
And the worst day.
I rarely write poetry 
at my desk –
but prefer cafes,
trains,
wide open spaces,
gardens,
forests,
whispering places –
and on dark, stormy nights,
my bed,
next to cheeky faces
😀
xxx
For a chance to win a great prize in Nancy’s challenge,
hop over to Spirit Lights the Way for details
She was the first blogger to make me laugh out loud, by asking me, on my About page, whether I was a man or a woman – the question astounded me and was the beginning of my appreciation of the mind-altering value of blogging: the way others perceive us is often so different from the way we see ourselves.
Image via http://www.sxc.hu
Insightful and multi-talented, Monica of Sweet Planet Poems is one of my oldest blogging friends – and how grateful I am that she has stayed the distance! 🙂 She has a delightful sense of humour, a rare generosity of spirit and a passion for the natural world that infuses her enchanting blog and publications.
She is a tireless campaigner for the protection of wolves in their natural habitat and shares their mystique in her wonderful poems, videos and photos many of which she creates on her frequent trips to Yellowstone National Park.
Monica has woven this delightful found poem in response to my Search Engine Poetry Challenge – I see it as a mirror of all the good in her heart (even the “picking up dog poop” line. :-D)
xxx
And here are a few of my favourite posts on Sweet Planet Poems:
Wild Wolf Encounters – this post is a free download of Monica’s wonderful collection of poetry on wolves.
Thanks for participating, dear Monica
😀
Image via http://www.sxc.hu
So many days
we are beyond bereft
at some ancient
god’s puzzled mumbles
beneath the night lamp,
his tremulous finger-fumbles
with jigsaw fragments
of our lives,
his fearful look of surprise
at the countless missing pieces
of his Master Plan,
unaware of the devil dog
chewing at his feet.
http://jmgoyder.com/2012/12/15/children/
http://nrhatch.wordpress.com/2012/12/14/an-unblossomed-bloom/
http://thelaughinghousewife.wordpress.com/2012/12/15/no-humour-today/
It wasn’t smells or tastes or dear old Patchy,
or Teddy or Polly or clothes that were scratchy,
but bright orange blossoms beaming out from my walls,
retro symbols of happiness from ceiling to floor –
my first bedroom’s wallpaper sticks like glue
in my mind to this day (my sibling’s too –
at the time they thought he had chronic colic
but, it seems, brother’s wall-art was making him sick –
all those racing-cars whizzing about his head
(he confessed, years later) made him dizzy in bed).
So my first memory – wallpaper, and subtropical heat,
and the tickles of mum’s kisses under my feet.
In response to the Daily Post’s Weekend Prompt: Childhood Revisited – What is your earliest memory? Describe it in detail, and tell us why you think that experience was the one to stick with you.
My linguistics professor would call it “spooky action at a distance“, and, indeed, it is a sort of blogging quantum entanglement, a weird close encounter of the blogging kind.
I speak of The Laughing Housewife, a.k.a. Tilly Bud.
Image via http://www.sxc.hu
Not that I’m saying Tilly’s weird, you understand (although once you’ve read her Search Engine Poem, you might disagree) – what I’m referring to is the strange coincidence that although we’ve never met, and know of each other only through our blogging connection, twenty years ago we were in the very same room at the very same time. (You’ll have to read this post’s comments if you want to know more).
So, anyway, what to say about Tilly?
A monumental intellect, a resilience that’s instructive, and a sense of humour that can shine a light through the darkest disposition. Nothing can wipe the smile off her face.
Quite like a worldwide shortage of Maltesers (I suspect this (second photo) was one of those times),
dodgy punctuation and grammar (any evidence of this in her found poem below is purely intentional),
or sycophants and flatterers (“no Maltesers for you!“).
She loves to cook, dance, sing, and do I’m-not-going-to-ask-what to the long-suffering Hub.
But we forgive her all that ;-), because, besides making us laugh and being a loving mother, Tilly is an accomplished poet.
Not only has her poetic talent been showcased in poetry journals and other interesting places, but she’s also about to release what promises to be a very interesting book of poetry memoir, and has another (on poo) in the pipeline ;-).
In the meantime, here’s her entry to my Search Engine Poetry challenge.
(Warning – not suitable for those suffering from Chaetophobia)
girls that dont shave
a found poem for Bluebee
irish women don’t shave
welding women don’t shave
freak americans don’t shave
hairy women armpits
bushy sweaty arm pits
kerala housewife armpits
air in armpits, girls
————————-Thanks, Tilly! 😀 (let’s hope you never find yourself in the same room as these internet-search weirdos)———-
Do your blog’s search engine terms reflect the soul of your blog?
This sprang to mind when I read this found poem by Christine Whitelaw, which she wrote in response to my Search Engine Poetry challenge.
Image via http://www.sxc.hu
Christine lives in a beautiful corner of Australia with artist husband Stuart,
and her blog, dadirridreaming, is predominantly Christine’s exquisite photographic contemplation
of the natural beauty that surrounds their home –
birds, insects, flowers, ocean, kangaroos and wallabies, sky and much more.
She also posts wonderful travelogues (that make me green with envy) about their trips to places further afield,
such as Lord Howe Island, Singapore and Europe (getting greener by the minute!).
Here are a few of my favourite posts from Christine’s latest globetrotting adventure:
Christine also occasionally hosts yoga retreats (and I’m hoping to attend one in the coming year)
So, what do you think?
Is the soul of dadirridreaming reflected in Christine’s found poem?
Thanks for participating, Christine!
😀
I’m away in the mountains for my birthday, and some 17,000kms from Stockport, home of The Laughing Housewife, but have just received this delightful gift from her.
Tilly makes me laugh, a lot!
Thank you, Tilly Bud!
😀
The Blue Mountains, NSW, Australia
Blogging friend, sublime poet, awesome mom and aspiring volcanologist Gabrielle Bryden has posted this found poem on her blog in response to my Search Engine Poetry challenge.
I met Gabrielle in my early days of blogging and LOVE her poetry, which ranges from the serious to the hilarious.
She also keeps us entertained with posts about her life in Queensland with her hero – Shirl, son – Michael, daughter – Tessa, and comical dogs – Jazz and Sheba, and with her photos of the weird and wonderful critters we find on this strange continent.
She has a wicked sense of humour (read her post tags) and a fighting spirit (I wouldn’t want to mess with her ;-)).
And in the 80s, she had Big Hair.
Gabrielle’s son, Michael, was diagnosed with Autism spectrum disorder at the age of 3 and she has used her experience to create an excellent resource on dealing with the challenges of Autism and Asperger’s.
Last week, Michael turned 12 and, despite the challenges he has faced, is doing very well. He takes great photos and is shaping up to be a talented horticulturalist.
Oh, and did I mention I love Gaberielle’s poetry?
Here are links to just a few of my favourites
Ransom Note Poetry – (Listen Up Gina)
Thanks, Gabe!
😀
Image via http://www.sxc.hu
Wonderfully talented artist Bénédicte Delachanal has posted this marvellously creative and witty response to my Search Engine Poetry challenge on her blog CARNET DE DESSINS/Bénédicte’s blog.
Hop over and have a look – it will brighten your day.
Thanks, Bénédicte – I love it 😀
(and would love to see your artistic interpretation of “non living things never alive”!)
I met Bénédicte through blogging (thanks Gabe) and have since done business with her, buying a number of her artworks as gifts for friends. She is an absolute pleasure to deal with.
Below are links to some of my favourite posts on Bénédicte‘s blog:
Bloomington Theater and Art Center
Blogging is a never-ending treasure hunt!
Image via http://www.sxc.hu
Image via http://www.sxc.hu
How often
is he there
in front of you?
Just another bloke
like you
except, perhaps,
a lack of personal hygiene
or its pathological opposite,
his way of regarding you
far too directly
without blinking
for the longest time.
When he asks for a cigarette
do you oblige
in spite of yourself?
Because in this stark room
you cannot reconcile
the rhetoric
on the face of it –
just another human being
in the silence,
no manifest difference
to teach the rookies,
no monster in plain sight
to slay with a bedside light,
just this banality
of evil
sitting in the corner
of your nightmares.
————————-
Image via http://www.sxc.hu
???????????????????????????????
orange worm in mandarin
bluebee militant
???????????????????????????????
people’s shadows
picture of non living things never alive
????????????????????????????????????????
what is hoohoooo
Richard Dawkins
???????????????????
large hadron collider
subatomic beauty
?????????????????????
People look up some weird stuff, don’t they? (Just ask Tilly :))
So, a fun challenge for you this weekend – in the tradition of Book Spine Poetry, create a Search Engine Poem of your own (or an artwork, Benedicte and Renee), send me the link and we’ll have a vote on the weirdest and wackiest at the end of the weekend.
To see all the search engine terms that found your blog in the last 30 days, go to Stats > Search Engine Terms > Summaries > 30 Days
PS – how would one say “orange worm” in Mandarin? The Good Greatsby, can you perhaps enlighten us? 🙂
Early morning swimmers – Bronte Beach Baths, Sydney
©beeblu
Our quotidian rituals
bring discipline,
structure
and joy
to our hours;
they are the anchors
of our existence.
****************
For more entries to this week’s photo challenge, see The Daily Post at WordPress.com
Image via http://www.sxc.hu
For a moment,
they bob,
these dull black balloons,
tethered to the traffic lights
in stringtime contemplation,
hermetic thoughts
jostle and tangle,
in colourless mirror-image
inscrutability,
safe
to dream themselves red-hot
airships unleashed,
cerulean adventures
aloft a blue-moon day.
xxxxxxx
Wonderfully talented photographer Madelaine Cappuccio has teamed my poem ‘Pedestrian’ with one of her beautiful balloon photos over at her blog, Images by Madelaine Cappuccio.
Thanks, Madelaine 😀
For me, dreaming is about possibilities, and none so wonderful as those brought by travel.
I became a xenophile at around the time I started school, and dreamt of going to live in exotic places, mostly Japan and rural China, and of flying off to wonderful cities, such as London, Tokyo, Amsterdam and Marrakech. Years on, and living in a different country, I’m grateful that I’ve been fortunate enough to travel to many parts of the world, and to have experienced incredible adventures and fascinating cultures as a result.
And the dreaming continues – I’ve yet to get to Japan or China 😀
To dream is to travel: to travel is to realize a dream
On these themes, a re-post of a poem I wrote a while ago –
Dreams of a Love Gourmand
He ate Suzi’s paella
and dreamed of Impanema,
of romance in Marbella
and Rio de Janeiro
–
He ate Fleur’s rindless blue,
his dreams were psychedelia,
he dreamt he was Theroux,
da Vinci and Ophelia
–
He drank Ping’s green absinthe
and dreamt he was a fairy
with eyes as green as minthe,
his wand, a blue canary
–
He ate Fang’s chou dofu,
her durian, then balut,
and napped as King Shi Chu
at war with King Canute
–
He ate Ann’s cherry duck,
nightmared of Gordon Ramsay,
who served confit of muck
with jus of some philandery
–
Then came Maeve’s Irish Stew,
no dreams his sleep disturbed
and as he woke he knew
his food of love’d been served
**************************
And for the Aboriginal peoples of Australia, Dreaming has a very special meaning – it encompasses beliefs about the origins of the earth, the stars and all living things, and the connections that exist between them, and is brought alive in wonderful stories, art and music. You can read more about the Dreaming and the Dreamtime here.
For more entries to this week’s photo challenge, see The Daily Post at WordPress.com
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