Debby does Disney
in a rainbow of ponchos
that if you didn’t bring your own
cost eight times more.
Debby does Disney
in wet t-shirts and braided hair
running through puddles
like Bo Derek.
Debby does Disney-
drops temperatures, shades bodies
from an ungodly heat
beguiling flames ignite.
Debby does Disney
only the Brave endure her wrath
with a smug satisfaction
of Princess Merida.
©laurie kolp
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
Going into the Storm
I’ll try not to stress out about Debby
Tropical weather I’ve dealt with before
But this week I’m chasing the clamor
A flight from Houston to Orlando
Awaits me Tuesday morn at seven
I’ll try not to stress out about Debby
Having lived on the Gulf most my life
And a survivor of Rita and Ike
Tropical weather I’ve dealt with before
Though most of the time I vacate
And Disney’s been planned for a year
But this week I’m chasing the clamor
(Please pray for my daughter and me)
©laurie kolp
Tropical weather I’ve dealt with before
But this week I’m chasing the clamor
A flight from Houston to Orlando
Awaits me Tuesday morn at seven
I’ll try not to stress out about Debby
Having lived on the Gulf most my life
And a survivor of Rita and Ike
Tropical weather I’ve dealt with before
Though most of the time I vacate
And Disney’s been planned for a year
But this week I’m chasing the clamor
(Please pray for my daughter and me)
©laurie kolp
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Self-Destruction
Touch of Evil |
a touch of evil
bares his fists,
twists the truth
glares down,
frowns at others
who try and stop him
unaware each hit
pounds to size
his own demise
*
@laurie kolp
Picture inspiration- Mag 123
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Your Whistle Shield
A montage of demons
floats through your closed
window in jasmine disguise
with an ample alluring aroma
as pleasing as the psycho-pseudo
sunset placed before your eyes.
And you think your life
a flawed mistake, a scrap
of litter on a granite field.
You feel trapped in an unknown
domain as the airtight room
swallows your whistle shield.
©laurie kolp
Prompt inspiration: The Sunday Whirl #62- jasmine, demons, window, scrap, ample, montage, flawed, granite, trapped, whistle, domain, sunset
floats through your closed
window in jasmine disguise
with an ample alluring aroma
as pleasing as the psycho-pseudo
sunset placed before your eyes.
And you think your life
a flawed mistake, a scrap
of litter on a granite field.
You feel trapped in an unknown
domain as the airtight room
swallows your whistle shield.
©laurie kolp
Prompt inspiration: The Sunday Whirl #62- jasmine, demons, window, scrap, ample, montage, flawed, granite, trapped, whistle, domain, sunset
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Summer Rainy Days
The kids hip-hop through the house
laugh together, yell and scream
in playful gestures, crack impromptu
jokes straight from their heads
battle axe and swing swords shielded,
bickers flying every now and then
through the sticky prickly heat
retreat into another room to pout
then out they come for another
round of Let’s Drive Mom Insane.
©laurie kolp
laugh together, yell and scream
in playful gestures, crack impromptu
jokes straight from their heads
battle axe and swing swords shielded,
bickers flying every now and then
through the sticky prickly heat
retreat into another room to pout
then out they come for another
round of Let’s Drive Mom Insane.
©laurie kolp
Sunday, June 17, 2012
A Stockade of Lies
Puddle, 1952, M. C. Esch |
Eschew the truth; frightening
how you scrutinize others'
minor faults, lightening
your own guilt, how it smothers
feral flames spreading.
A tempest through life’s blazes
you think your future, dreading
puzzle pieces lost, mazes
through which you run, blockading
eternal wisdom, accrue
lies upon lies stockading
distrust from truth you eschew.
©laurie kolp
Prompt inspiration:
Real Toads- Celtic Quatrain poetic form
Poetic Bloomings- Fire
The Mag 122 picture
Saturday, June 16, 2012
It's Just An Illusion
To sketch a draft of illusion,
trace your finger across my chest-
latch on.
Refrain from
lingering
at any one spot.
Feel a current
strike your heart,
a blend of temper and lust-
watch congeal
as a crack of reality sets in.
String along spare phantasm-
the racket you’ve created
is just that.
©laurie kolp
Prompt inspiration: The Sunday Whirl 61 - blend, latch, chest, current, draft, string, crack, spare, temper, refrain, racket, trace, strike
trace your finger across my chest-
latch on.
Refrain from
lingering
at any one spot.
Feel a current
strike your heart,
a blend of temper and lust-
watch congeal
as a crack of reality sets in.
String along spare phantasm-
the racket you’ve created
is just that.
©laurie kolp
Prompt inspiration: The Sunday Whirl 61 - blend, latch, chest, current, draft, string, crack, spare, temper, refrain, racket, trace, strike
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Dear Barracuda,
A marlin never will my child be
So let him rest, enjoy the sea.
*
A letter to a swim coach who won't let the kids rest for two solid hours; just lap after lap after lap. They need a break, which is why I chose "rest" but play works, too.
Both sketches by Laurie Kolp
Prompt inspiration: Kenia's Wednesday Challenge at Real Toads
Monday, June 11, 2012
Poet Natasha Head, An Interview
“Poetry is not reserved for the select few, it is not elitist, it does not care who you are or where you came from, or judge you for the mistakes you have made. It speaks to all, for all, and is able to reflect back to us, through the art of language, an image of the world that is real, that is now.”
~Natasha Head, Nothing Left to Lose
It was love at first sight when I first read Natasha Head’s poetry. Her voice is real and powerful, her poems are emotive and vivid, and her heart is sincere and humble. Not only is she an active participant in the world of poetry, but she is a supportive colleague who really cares. I once shared a very personal poem on my other site, Bird’s-Eye Gemini, and she sent me an email thanking me for opening up my heart like I had.
Known by many as Tashtoo, Natasha has a new poetry collection, Nothing Left to Lose. She shares how the book came to fruition here. I purchased it for my Kindle and enjoy reading it from my iPhone everywhere I go.
Doesn't this poem make you just want to drop everything and head to the beach?
Hemingway Would be Proud
Nothing beats the sea shore in June.
Give me the breeze off the bay
scent of salt in the air
the bulbous bodies of jellyfish
riding the waves.
Nourish me with the tang
of a mint leaf dancing in my glass,
an early afternoon buzz
that would normally be frowned upon
I am a natural
I was born to drift
recording my deep thoughts
and profound prayers
Rum dumb
but alive.
There is a healing that comes
with an absence of grass
a cure with every grain of sand
as I bury my toes in their warmth
and the sun fries my exposed skin
shaving seconds from the hour glass
though I do know better,
I also know there is aloe waiting
to slow the burn.
With pen in one hand
drink in the other
I welcome the heat
and know
Hemingway would be proud.
*Who is Natasha Head?
Honestly...that's something I am unwilling to commit to. :) I am a mother, first and foremost and that's pretty much the only thing I'm content to have set in stone. In the real world, I've been a real estate agent for almost twenty years and a closet poet for even longer. I really was the geek who carried the little black book with my poems in it.
*What inspires you?
People...in all their wonderful glory, in all their awful misery...Nature is my church, but 99% of the time it's people who fire up my pen. Relationships, mob mentality, all the quirks and miracles that make us what and who we are.
*Why do you write?
Because I always have. When I don't...the results are not good. I'm a chronic journal-er and have been since I was very young. I learned that getting it out on paper first is a great way to prevent conflict, to work through a confused mind, and to come to know who I am and what I want a little bit better. It gives me a voice, the courage to be me...good or bad as that may be.
*How do you come up with such compelling titles for your poems?
The poem always comes first. If I go with title first, then it's like writing to a prompt...most times, I won't know where the poem is going until it ends...once the pen stops and I actually see what has been birthed, then comes the name.
*Where can we find you?
At the crossroads of indecision on the banks of the river of change. :) Actually, The Tashtoo Parlour is probably the best place to start looking. It's my own little poetry parlour where I get to pretend it's all about me.
*See, I told you she was humble! Natasha is all over the place. She is co-founder of New World creative Union, a regular contributor at dVerse Poets and more!
*If you could place five items in a time capsule, what would they be and why?
1. A recording of Dougie MacLean's version of Caledonia. (Listen to it...you'll know why)
2. A copy of my book "Nothing Left to Lose" as it's a very big piece of me and a collection of work that I think is based on a case of history repeating itself. It could come in handy as a survival guide for future women. :) And would go a long way to feeding my ego.
3. Pink Floyd's The Wall...a movie that got me through my teenage angst and proved I was not alone with my little black book of poetry.
4. My iPhone....presently you can find my entire life on it...and yes, I admit I am addicted
5. A roster of all the amazing people who I've met, complete with an example of their work. This could take some time, but the talent I've been introduced to is overwhelming and so many deserve their place in history.
*Would you rather be a rock or a river and why?
Oh, I'd have to be the river...then I could shape the rocks and flow easily by the ones who show resistance.
*Do you have any advice for us?
Write a poem. Draw a picture. Paint a post card. Take a walk with your camera. Get in touch with the creative you. We all have that side to us, and it needs to be fed...Life is more complete when you interact with your world through that side of you. Let go, and let that divine creator loose...despite what we've been trained to believe, life is not a competition...we are here to grow and evolve together...getting creative opens up that corner of our mind that many of us have forgotten.
*Where would you like to be a year from now?
I would love to be able to lose the real estate agent part of my self-definition. I would love to be able to sincerely dedicate my time to writing...to see what I might be capable of. I'm involved in a very demanding industry in a family owned company. Some are under the false impression that this makes my work easier...can YOU imagine working 24/7 with your mother, father, sister...I love them all dearly but...seriously!
I do see your point. You can only spend so much time with family!
As you read more of Tashtoo's poetry, you will discover what a realistic possibility that just is. Here are two more:
Weapons of Mass Destruction
You cannot build a world based
On those who have
and those who have not.
What you build
in this state
is resentment, hostility, loathing
Eventually
as connections are made
and frustration grows
You create an enemy
that hold no weapons
simply ideas
That question your ways
your motives
your insatiable desire for more.
I almost bought in to your ways
I almost sold my soul
thinking this was the way it had to be,
but I have a confession to make,
I failed.
The battle between heart and mind
Almost broke me
financially, physically, emotionally
but then came realization
as I realized YOUR biggest weapon
was self-doubt and loathing
instilled into the mind
of those too weak
to do unto others
as you have done to them.
~~
The Elephant
He persists
Breath hot, heavy in my ear
As he sings me a melody
A call I cannot return.
Commonalities
Kindred spirits
Connected on a potential sea
Of all we should have been
Had I not careened
Into a future that was already written
Still the sound of his song resonates
Beats within a heart
That belongs to another
Contractual
If not factual
And lost within the breath
Barely able to breathe
deny
Soul food sustenance
Living up to expectations
Lyrics written by another
Secret time, secret lover
That leaves me broken and tethered
To the elephant in the room
~~
Not only does Tashtoo write, but she is an artist as well. Her medium? Crayons. Here's my favorite. You can find more here.
Natasha Head, The Nature of Memory, August 2011 |
Thank you so much, Tashtoo, for allowing me to share a little piece of you with my readers.
**All poems and pictures courtesy of Natasha and can be found at The Tashtoo Parlour.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
From Speedboat to Sailboat
I stormed the Gulf of Mexico for years
Until one day my engine crashed and burned,
left me floating in rough waters all alone.
I saw a sailboat sparkling in the sun
with glassy ripples flowing rhythmically,
found YOU at the cockpit, calm and cool
emanating peace as seagulls soared in harmony.
And all at once I knew the truth-
the wheel was not my own to navigate.
You are the wind, my guide in life.
I’ll let you sail this boat from here on out.
©laurie kolp
Prompt inspiration-
Poetic Bloomings: #59 Water
Picture - Courtesy of Hannah Gosselin at Real Toads Sunday Challenge
a speedboat zooming in and out of victim’s lives
racing solo, jumping hurdles zealouslya zigzag here and there without a backwards glance
a vortex voiding eyes of innocenceoverpowered by a roar, a rev, a VROOM;
voracious as a barracuda on the prowl.Until one day my engine crashed and burned,
left me floating in rough waters all alone.
I saw a sailboat sparkling in the sun
with glassy ripples flowing rhythmically,
found YOU at the cockpit, calm and cool
emanating peace as seagulls soared in harmony.
Your silent treatment blew my mind
as the wind slapped life into me
misty water splashed, cooled me down
a mix of salt and fish aroma wakening.
And all at once I knew the truth-
the wheel was not my own to navigate.
You are the wind, my guide in life.
I’ll let you sail this boat from here on out.
Copyright © 2012 Hannah Gosselin ~ Pier Post Persisting |
©laurie kolp
Prompt inspiration-
Poetic Bloomings: #59 Water
Picture - Courtesy of Hannah Gosselin at Real Toads Sunday Challenge
Friday, June 8, 2012
Book shares proof of the afterlife
Do you want to know more about what the word locution means? Then listen up, because in the book I'm going to discuss it's mentioned a lot. I recently read Proof of the Afterlife: The Conversation Continues by Br. Gary Joseph for review. The title spurred my interest because of my encounters with cardinals, which have strengthened my belief in an existence after death. I have had spiritual experiences. I have felt the tingling presence of my Higher Power (God) next to me, the peace spread within. I have seen a bright calming light in the depths of despair when I closed my eyes and asked for help. The Holy Spirit has nudged my conscious. I have no doubt about God and Heaven and connections and synchronicity.
Br. Gary Joseph cites a few hard-to-believe examples of his and others' dealings with dead people who come to visit. At times it seems a little preachy. I just can't fathom how someone could physically embrace a dead person standing before them in the prime of their lives (because you transform back to your gorgeous 20s); but metaphorically, I can see how this relates to forgiveness and redemption. If you have some unfinished business here, you might be homeless in Purgatory for an infinite amount of time, which can symbolize drifting through life. Of course, helping others dead or alive is a wonderful way to get out of ourselves, right?
The Servants of the Father of Mercy is a Private Association within the Archdiocese of Los Angeles that Br. Gary works with. Information on how to donate is included in the appendix, as is a list of prayers, including one for helping the homeless in Purgatory. Below is an excerpt from the book that was posted on www.HomelessinAmerica.blogspot.com June 6, 2010:
I have no opinion. I'm merely quoting from the book Proof of the Afterlife: The Conversation Continues.
By the way, according to American Heritage Dictionary, locution is:
BUT...
The Servants of the Father of Mercy is a Private Association within the Archdiocese of Los Angeles that Br. Gary works with. Information on how to donate is included in the appendix, as is a list of prayers, including one for helping the homeless in Purgatory. Below is an excerpt from the book that was posted on www.HomelessinAmerica.blogspot.com June 6, 2010:
"There should be no liberals in America, just the merciful.
No conservatives, just the compassionate.
No liberals, just the forgiving.
No conservatives, just kindness.
No liberals, just the patient.
No conservatives, just love."
I have no opinion. I'm merely quoting from the book Proof of the Afterlife: The Conversation Continues.
By the way, according to American Heritage Dictionary, locution is:
- A particular word, phrase, or expression, especially one that is used by a particular person or group.
- Style of speaking; phraseology.
What's That Called?
Sometimes I feel fragmented
even quite demented
at a loss for…
words
names of things, I call absurd.
Like instead of eye and needle,
I spit the word “eedle.”
My dogs, Snowy and Jake-
I’ll combine and call them “Snake.”
Even my own children
think I’ve gone delir(ious)-en
when I slither through the chicken
looking for some kitchen.
What about ewe? Does this happen, 2?
©laurie kolp
Prompt inspiration: IGWRT-A Lurd with Wauwie…A Word with Laurie: Dementia
even quite demented
at a loss for…
words
names of things, I call absurd.
Like instead of eye and needle,
I spit the word “eedle.”
My dogs, Snowy and Jake-
I’ll combine and call them “Snake.”
Even my own children
think I’ve gone delir(ious)-en
when I slither through the chicken
looking for some kitchen.
What about ewe? Does this happen, 2?
©laurie kolp
Prompt inspiration: IGWRT-
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Layered
The rolled up sleeping bag, bulky
with coils like boles in a tree
sits beside the trunk, layered
with life essentials for one week-
a week I must resign as parent,
hand over the reins to another.
Hidden within the trunk, a piece
of my heart, my eyes a mist of worry.
©laurie kolp
Prompt inspirations:
3WW- bulky, mist, resign
Poetic Asides- Camp
with coils like boles in a tree
sits beside the trunk, layered
with life essentials for one week-
a week I must resign as parent,
hand over the reins to another.
Hidden within the trunk, a piece
of my heart, my eyes a mist of worry.
©laurie kolp
Prompt inspirations:
3WW- bulky, mist, resign
Poetic Asides- Camp
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
To You
My offering for today can be found at Pyrokinection, a new literary journal. I thank you all for your support. You give me the strength I need to keep going. You boost me up when I'm muddling through rejection. But most of all, you empower me to keep trudging.
So, what do you think?
So, what do you think?
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Saturday, June 2, 2012
One Proud Momma
This isn't going to be your typical Proud Momma Brag Session. No, I don't do normal; but I would like to share with you the amazing accomplishments of my children.
Let's start with my youngest. Nicholas has been my nonreader... up until this year, that is. In kindergarten, he was too busy trying to convince me to let him stay home. Reading was going to storytime at the library with Mom and viewing pop-up books on trucks. In first grade, he fought it tooth and nail, received the "Most Likely to Become a Lawyer" award; and in second grade, he'd pick up a book here and there, set it down and start another- never finishing any of them. This year in third grade he took off, and I must admit Percy Jackson is my hero. Nicholas loves to read so much that it interfered with his school work at times. He went from reading just barely at grade level to having the highest AR points in his grade and making a 96 on the STARR reading test. Now he's rapping with a British accent, songs he's written. I'm so proud of him.
Andrew taught himself to read at the age of three. When he saw big sister bringing little booklets home from kindergarten, he sat with her and learned as she read. He read Harry Potter books the summer before he stared first grade, I kid you not! Every year has been a breeze; he is never challenged. Thankfully he's always had teachers who were willing to find work on his level. Last year, his teacher wanted him to skip fifth grade. We didn't because he is the youngest in his class already. On awards day, he got a workout climbing the stairs to the stage so many times. The principal even made the comment that he should just stay there. He got highest GPA in every subject, along with recognition for his superior in Number Sense UIL and placement in the Spelling Bee. Parents ask if we send him to Kumon. No. Oh, I must work with him. No. In fact, I've never seen his homework because he's done before school lets out. Andrew received a 100 on both the STARR Reading and Math, a 97 on Science. But guess what was the most important award to him? Perfect attendance! Yes, this is something he's never done; every other year he's been bombarded with bronchitis and breathing machines. To get perfect attendance was an achievement. I'm so proud of Andrew.
Now for my beautiful daughter, Katie. She has done so well this year with Future Problem-Solving, Creative Writing, UIL, completion of the SAT through the DUKE University talent search. Not only did she take the same test high school juniors and seniors take, but she qualified for admittance into college! Now that's some feat. Unfortunately, the sorry counselor didn't show up at the awards ceremony to recognize her and the few others who did the same (less than five). It was in the program and she decided to skip... grr... that's another story. Luckily, Katie had been recognized last Saturday at an official Duke ceremony held at Lamar University. We don't have Katie's report card or STARR scores yet because, well, the counselor is doing God only knows what... but I know they'll be stellar like they always are. I'm so proud of Katie.
Not only have the kids done well in school, but they also excel in extracurricular activities and will continue through the summer in dance, Taekwondo, swimming, scout camps, etc. I am truly grateful for the wonderful children God has blessed me with.
Okay, I know... it was a typical Proud Momma Brag Session, but what else do you expect?
Nicholas, May 2012 |
Let's start with my youngest. Nicholas has been my nonreader... up until this year, that is. In kindergarten, he was too busy trying to convince me to let him stay home. Reading was going to storytime at the library with Mom and viewing pop-up books on trucks. In first grade, he fought it tooth and nail, received the "Most Likely to Become a Lawyer" award; and in second grade, he'd pick up a book here and there, set it down and start another- never finishing any of them. This year in third grade he took off, and I must admit Percy Jackson is my hero. Nicholas loves to read so much that it interfered with his school work at times. He went from reading just barely at grade level to having the highest AR points in his grade and making a 96 on the STARR reading test. Now he's rapping with a British accent, songs he's written. I'm so proud of him.
Andrew, May 2012 |
Andrew taught himself to read at the age of three. When he saw big sister bringing little booklets home from kindergarten, he sat with her and learned as she read. He read Harry Potter books the summer before he stared first grade, I kid you not! Every year has been a breeze; he is never challenged. Thankfully he's always had teachers who were willing to find work on his level. Last year, his teacher wanted him to skip fifth grade. We didn't because he is the youngest in his class already. On awards day, he got a workout climbing the stairs to the stage so many times. The principal even made the comment that he should just stay there. He got highest GPA in every subject, along with recognition for his superior in Number Sense UIL and placement in the Spelling Bee. Parents ask if we send him to Kumon. No. Oh, I must work with him. No. In fact, I've never seen his homework because he's done before school lets out. Andrew received a 100 on both the STARR Reading and Math, a 97 on Science. But guess what was the most important award to him? Perfect attendance! Yes, this is something he's never done; every other year he's been bombarded with bronchitis and breathing machines. To get perfect attendance was an achievement. I'm so proud of Andrew.
Katie, May 2012 |
Not only have the kids done well in school, but they also excel in extracurricular activities and will continue through the summer in dance, Taekwondo, swimming, scout camps, etc. I am truly grateful for the wonderful children God has blessed me with.
Okay, I know... it was a typical Proud Momma Brag Session, but what else do you expect?
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