Song Baby (a flash 55 poem)

I will bow my

breast to the

lips of a crying

new song.

I will rock

Song Baby

gently when

my thoughts

nod off to

blogland or

Hawaii. (I’ve not

yet seen Hawaii.)

I will hug

Song Baby

when I feel

the urge to

yell it into

submission.

For sweetly goes

life’s melody

unfolding.

You have just witnessed my Friday Flash Fiction 55 for The G-Man!

(P.S. Above was my simple brunch today.)
(P.P.S. I will return Flash 55 comments as soon as I can — whoo-hoo!!)
(P.P.S. If you missed me singing my 55 About & For The G-Man last week, you can can watch that 1-minute Youtube here.)

(P.P.P.S. You guys rock!!)

xoxoxoxo

What Happened One Night In My Attic Studio As I Started Writing A Poem About a Rabbit Playing Tennis

I started writing a poem about a rabbit playing tennis
when suddenly Morgan Freeman and Charlton Heston
and Meryl Streep were taking turns reading my poem
out loud as cherry blossoms began snowing from my
hair onto what had just been my old blue sweatpants,
but were now a pair of purple satin vintage palazzos.

Then autumn leaves began swirling around what mere
moments before had been my chair but was now a gold
and mahogany bicycle sailing me through the dining room
of the Hearst Castle. I blinked and the bike changed into
a gondola being steered by The Pioneer Woman through a
field of California poppies where little mice dressed in ball
caps and togas were dancing jigs and singing “Hey Jude.”

Just when I thought the night couldn’t get any weirder, the
gondola turned back into my chair and I was flung by the
wind to the top of a pine tree overlooking a fancy French
street cafe where people were either throwing pastries at
each other or playing violins made out of recycled canoes.

I blinked again and my chair fell out of the tree and into a
tornado spinning westwards across the ocean and finally
home through my attic window. Boy, was I glad to be back
safe and sound in my little garrett, with Blue Bunny at his
laptop eating apple pie and surfing some tennis gear sites.

Quite a night, eh?  I guess we all have ones like that now and then, right? Or was it all just a dream? Hmn, I do wonder.

Posted with love and such,
Jannie
xoxoxo

P.S.  I have not been surfing blogs lately as much as I’d dearly love to – I’ve been putting my nose to the grindstone on songs.  But know that I am thinking about you all, and missing you!!

(Washington cherry blossoms photo via Wikimedia Commons, user Bossi)

What HTML Coding Has Taught Me Thus Far — a poem

What my success with HTML coding
has taught me thus far is I could probably
still be a brain surgeon or an astronaut
or an equestrienne or a master boat builder,
or a Michelangelo of childrens’ face painting.
HTML code — I am so whooping your butt!

(end of deep and enigmatic poem)

If you or someone you love is a poet, please feel free to hop on board Jingle’s Thursday Poetry Rally train. It’s a blast!

Yes, it’s still Wednesday here as I post this, but it’s Thursday in Australia.

And Australia rocks! Can’t wait for my maiden voyage there.

How ’bout you?  Have any experience whooping the butt of HTML code?

Posted with love,
by Jannie
xoxoxoo

P.S. Kelly’s face was painted by a gal who does that kind of stuff for a living.

Chris Brogan Loves Me — a poem

Chris Brogan loves me!

He reads me every day.

He lives for my photos,

loves that one above.

When I got the e-mail

he was following me back

on Twitter, I was all…

“Yessss, he knows my

brilliance now!” (That  

feeling lasted a full 3

days until I clicked on

his profile to see he’s

following 130,000+.)

Anybody big following YOU on Twitter and hanging on your every bloggity word?  :)

(That’s a photo I took here on Lake Austin last fall. I posted it once before, but much smaller. )

See you soon!
xoxox

“Today I Am Not” — a poem celebration.

Today I am not

the dust in my corners,

the shutters unpainted,

the stashes of clean but

disorganized clothing,

the birthday present

unbought and unsent,

or the cleverly stacked

dirty dishes in my sink.

Today I am not the worry

of the oil gushing

or the worry of  government lies,

or the worry of any lie or of any stupid thing I’ve ever said or done in the past.

Today I am not also the worry of

the audio cassette still unfound.

It will show up, shining.

(Probably when I’m getting to the dust!)

Today, I’m not going to the ocean

where we stood in awe when she was four.

But I AM going to a leafy place

with my favorite girl in the world,

where a clean river’s flowing,

children will be laughing

and Suzie and I will ease our

pleasant ongoing conversation

into the heart and soul of the day

– maybe even until dusk if I get off

this computer and do those

dishes to make things look nice

for Jim when he gets home

so he won’t be too mad, especially

since those shutters need painting.

Today, Suzie, our girls and I

will go get something good to eat!

Maybe Hut’s?

Maybe Chuy’s?

I have good sunscreen and

and a relatively un-hideous swimsuit

to greet the perfection of  the day with.

(end of poem)

So, I better get my stuff together!

Clothes, umbrella, suits, towels, hats.

Get those ribs in the mic.

Do the dishes, while singing.

And a little dancing!

Find the little cooler.

Maybe even wash my face before sunscreen.

 :)

(end of other poem that sprang up.)

[Above photo: Jim, Kelly on a California Beach, Sept 2005.  I think maybe Laguna? Dana Point?]

xoxoxo

(I still have comments to answer from my last 2 posts. I’ll enjoy getting to those later!!)

I may go crazy, and not get back to a computer until tomorrow a.m.

(But I will slip in here to read comments from my iPhone!)

Can you say Internet Addicted, boys and girls?

I do love getting your sweet comments!

ox

agin.

Shoot, need to buttonize that — hang on…

Ahhh, now life is complete.

Well, it will be complete once I get BB with his sandcastle back up, and put the blue water back along the sides!

THEN do the dishes.

xoxo

again.