Noir

Noir

The photo depicts 

The past

A time when words flowed

Like a river into endless

Streams

Across great chasms

Mind-bending

Alleys.

Ever forward

Relentlessly pushing boundaries

Breaking norms

Exploding into infinity.

Kind of like ejaculation.

Only the waterfall

Ran dry for a time

And the people had to

Find another source

Were forced to improvise

Re-engineer

What had already been provided

By our Maker.

And where is that Maker now?

Is he a devil hidden in detail?

Or a stern parent insisting we toe the line

Perhaps the Maker resides in each of us

Within our unique purpose

Maybe, we are the world.

But the world is dying.

Discernment helps

Patience

Listening too

In the Noir days, we had filters.

Remember filters?  

And one critical lesson at a time.

Cornelia DeDona 3-24-2020

I am delighted to announce my multi-discipline award-winning memoir Hawaiian Time will be among the displayed books and art in 

The Vinnie Ream Exhibition at The Karpele's Manuscript Library Museum 

101 W 1st St. Jacksonville, FL, US.
 September 02, 2016 - October 30, 2016 

 Artist Reception September 9th 5-8 p.m.

The Karpeles Library is the world's largest private holding of important original manuscripts and documents and features exhibits from local artists and designers. The library was founded in 1983 by California real estate magnates David and Marsha Karpeles, with the goal of stimulating interest in learning, especially in children. All of the Karpeles Manuscript Library services are free. 

 For more info on Vinnie Ream and the National League of American Pen Women: http://www.nlapw.org/?s=Vinnie+Ream

Hibiscus For One

Book Giveaway

 
 

    Goodreads Book Giveaway
 

   

       
   

   

     

          Hawaiian Time
     
     

          by Cornelia Dedona
     

     

         
            Giveaway ends June 21, 2016.
         
         
            See the giveaway details
            at Goodreads.
         
     
   
   

    Enter Giveaway

Looking forward to reading from my new book, Hawaiian Time. 

https://www.createspace.com/5751889

Hawaiian Time

Click on the link below to see a Preview of my new book, Hawaiian Time.
Please take a  moment to rate my preview and Thank-you!!! ~ Cornelia DeDona

                                            https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1190531

            To purchase your copy:

https://www.createspace.com/5751889

Poem: Fine Wine

Published in the 12/2015 issue of Chronogram Arts. Culture. Spirit.

 

Fine Wine

Wine 

should be

savored like 

a grand epic 

filtered throughout with 

barely audible hints 

of blackberry and currant, 

joined among swirls of licorice.

A dressed-up ballroom duo, noshing

creamy avocado wedges a-

top crispy crackers heaped with slices of

sharp orange cheddar from Wisconsin.

Accompanied by a sweet, good

looking Filipino man 

that croons steamy songs

to  pale, earthy girls

beneath  moon’s blush 

nightly, on

a cruise

ship. 

 

A poem that starts with one syllable per line, increases to ten syllables, and then decreases back down to one is called a  Double Etheree (or sometimes a stacked or diamond Etheree). 

The Etheree form was created by Arkansas poet Taylor Armstrong in the late 1970s. 

"Seasons of the Mid-Hudson Valley"

Dancing Bears

"Seasons of the Mid-Hudson Valley"

An exhibit of photographs by 
Mohonk Preserve Volunteer Photographers

November 13, 2015, to Monday, January 4th, 2016

La Bella Pizza Bistro 

194 Main St, New Paltz, NY 12561

Opening Reception
 Sunday, November 15 from 5-7pm.

Grimm Expectations

I touched death's hand
and peeled back my crying skin
ready for death’s inspection
prepared to barter.

Take me instead.

I stroked death's supernatural chin
my screams
locked in the dead zone.

Death's white corpse
hovered before me
swilling foul fluids
noting my soft edges
hinting at frogs
and Biology.

I shrank
as death peeled back my lover
sliced by hot steel
selected without warning
on a haunted road
black as pitch
black as a bottomless pit
my love dead
by the splash.

I slept through my dark daze
a zombie
clasping
death's calling card
a calling card that read
Superboy is dead
long live Lex Luthor
Your life,
your journey begins here.
The card was signed
by a Mr. Grimm.

The Unwanted

and destitute
crouch in a huddle
gasping at the dreaded discard aisle
as we sort through
the endless stacks of
brown, yellowed
and dusty volumes.

Some hide
dead cockroaches
insect poop.

Written on their title pages
are inscriptions to family, friends and fans.

A few hide old photos.

Delightful old bookmarks
are relegated to a particular box
later transformed into artfully decorated cards.

Now and then
we discover
a single bill
forgotten
between sticky pages.

We hunt to find a first edition
Hawaiiana
or any needy rare books.

We wipe away the grime
mend the tears
unfold corners
as I try to digest a mountain of data
intoolittletime.

The orphans
are then carefully priced
counted and packed into labeled boxes
their character
further noted
by the application of various colored masking tape.
Later carted away
by the truckload
to sit inside a warehouse
where they will wait
to be rediscovered
at the annual book sale.
The lucky outcasts
polished and poised
ready to converse
with us
again.


**Original version of my poem, printed as "Book Makeovers" Honolulu Star-Bulletin July 2, 2008.

Spirit Mana

I hear them whisper
in the gentle trade winds
in the grunt of the wild
boar, the high-pitched mating call of the coqui.


I see them
in the blood moon
the double rainbow
in the mist against the folding
emerald cliffs of the Ko'olau.

I taste them
in the freshly caught pan fried mahi-mahi
a tropical papaya
tangy mango.

I smell them in
the white gardenia
the orange blossoms
the plumeria I place behind my ear.

I feel them buzzing
my ankles
scurrying sideways in the white sand
between the sharp coral
in the gentle rain.

They watch as I wait for you to return safely.

They watch the dogs chase
after wild chickens
the koi feed on fat
mosquitos.
The bullfrogs sing.

They watch

They accept.

They smile.

They are here with me

the ‘Aumakua, guardian ancestors

rooted in the past, the first of their generations.

Giant's Workshop

Rock Rift Scramble and Mohonk Mountain House, Lake and Gardens