Basic Maneuvers

Night falls.
The air is sticky
infused with white Gardenia, pungent Stephanotis.
A fountain sprays into a Koi pond, echoing across the valley.
In the distance houses hum, windows glow
as families settle into their nightly routine.

At the appointed hour
a poisonous toad Army advances
each to their predetermined post.
Thousands hop down roads, linger beneath street lamps
some are sacrificed
beneath a passing automobile tire.

Others silently lurk inside the hollow of a palm
hundreds more beneath the bug light by the well
their hungry eyes focused, tongues trigger ready.
Toad commanders direct their approval at the snap and the sizzle
of the Formosan termite swarm drawn to the light,
the Army peering skyward as roasted bodies free-fall, unfettered wings
drift aimlessly down around them.

The kamikaze swarm
continue to buzz the light in reckless abandon.
A few forestall their dinner dates
by crawling behind downspouts and into rocky crevices
while a scout is randomly brushed
by the feet of a foreign genus
rushing inside to escape the carnage,
the rank and lusty feeding
of the hoard.

Super Moon

My fur also rises

I shiver under her power

and shake resolute.

Resolute and insatiable.

As shifting tides,

yield to a Super Moon

bathing unabashed

in a hammerhead bay in the Pacific.

Sister Moon placid,

as she slices through blackout curtains.

Until I witness her spirit here in the Northeast.

I am a wild thing
and she is a flirt.

As she straddles

cool peaks and crags

and I find myself drawn

to her again.

As I howl at her blood-red form

gulp down the afterglow above.

Wonderland- A Look Back

Alice remembered

when reason 

wouldn’t stop her

from escaping

into the cold black night.

Far from

should have

and know better

because those pricks

still loved to spoil her fun.

They often trailed behind 

hissing

there would be hell to pay

for this, that and the other.

Prompting her to

run even farther

and resolve

that this time

she’d make it

to someplace better.

© Connie DeDona 11-7-14

Spent

 

The road

bulges gray, cynical and dusty.

Spent by sugary

cake eating denizens

spreading the good news.

 

By archaic beliefs

spinning

pious cloth.

(Remember to wash before wearing.)

 

By hell-fire fans

down at the local Dollar store

discounting

derelict pennies

who  roar once more

over the obsolete

Five and Dime.

National Poetry Month Day 21

My poem is featured today!!!

Sweet Persephone

Like Persephone,   I wait

for Spring,     to burst.

Can one exchange   one’s cloth,

or clay heart

rewind to,       once was

get a do over

flower,

or

stop falling.

 http://wp.me/p2Us6N-KQ

Art of the Week Day 4 "Green Room"

http://www.nlapw.org/2014/04/04/art-of-the-week-and-day-4-of-national-poetry-month/

Starting with Right

“Start with what is right, rather than what is acceptable.”~Franz Kafka

Starting with Right

It was the right door

spinning in the wrong direction

right to help

wrong to take advantage

right to give

wrong to take too much

right to love

wrong to give up everything

right to take a risk

wrong to die for a craving

right to live in peace

wrong to take a hostage

it was the right sacrifice

the wrong life.

Easter with Family

Easter with Family

We are gathered here this weekend,  to gorge on the solid chocolate Easter Bunny. 

Let the jelly bellies roll

and not overtake the spiral Ham, a stout fellow who did not receive a pardon from the president.

Let us bow our heads, to the Lady Godiva chocolate raspberry bar at Macys and pray that the weather be sunny and warm but not too warm lest the peanut butter and chocolate eggs melt inside our Spring designer handbags.

Let us run not walk over the Mid-Hudson Bridge to Poughkeepsie to catch the latest sale at TJMax because their Fashionista bathing suits come in eye catching tummy control.

AND because shopping in this family is not a trial, it is a weekly event and available on easy pay from QVC.

So pack your wet naps and save your coupons because the sale isn't over until after the Fit lady sings, Jesus comes back, OR whatever! Get a clue, people!

Ready girls, can I get an Amen and a bunny hop across the floor from the hungry eaters who have already inhaled two bags of chips and salsa and slurped down ALL the Skinny Margarita’s?

It is official New York, the diet is off ….and just two more 30% off shopping days at Kohl’s. 

Happy Easter Everybody! Let the feasting begin!

Tiki Cartouche

Tiki Cartouche

a distant cousin, way far removed of Katya’s,

had friends

important gods from the realm of tikidom.

He was not someone to mess with

Tiki Cartouche was a fishing GOD!

Suzy Pacu from South America knew

even the Japanese koi twins, Hiroshi and Sachi

banked left

when they saw his face

above the water peering down at them

pondering today’s method for their demise.

They shit little fish pellets

when they escaped

bubbling over a Guinness

with friends on Fishbrook

and when Sachi

Fishtagrammed a pic of that massively ugly face

peering down into their living room

it horrified them even more.

Astounding what with progress and all

they were still being terrorized

by that wooden man wearing shell earrings, with shells for eyes.

Lucy the catfish had looked once, had reported of

the hulking shadow, had heard the loud drone beyond and

sitting atop his shoulders numerous white angelic creatures with wings

Lucy was smart; she had called them cattle egrets, which had mystified them all, they were certainly outnumbered. it was bad enough they had to watch for Sadie the

fish hawk, who oft times dropped her prey onto the muddy banks. Sadie had cannibalized poor Archie in front of all of them. Archie had been in denial about his weight problem.

Better to be safe Lucy had said

and whatever you do

don’t stare into Tiki’s eyes or he will pluck them out and shell you.

OMG, what is shell! they gasped among themselves, for no-one wanted to admit they didn't know,

as they swished about the pond panic stricken, burying themselves inches below the mud.

Chronic Discontent

I spot it by the mailbox

wearing a gray terrycloth robe and a pair of black Isotoner leopard slippers

entertaining the messy neighbor

with predictions of bear sightings and blood engorged ticks

brought on by a mutual repulsion for yard work.

Later it disguises itself

as a local journalist

gasping about disharmony

throughout the Mid-Hudson valley

allergic to crowds and absent at the town street festival

it prefers to drive home alone

belittle the spouse

complain of indigestion

and then eat

a hunk of Swiss cheese

and leftover asparagus

that the army ants have snubbed.

December Muse

It is December

And the days flicker by

in reel time

As the pencil thin

browns

weathered grays

traced in white

maternal pause

shielding the palette of young

green, purple, red, orange, and yellow,  

snuggled under leafy blankets

dreaming of Hawaii

and a resurgence

beyond the icy blast.

©12-4-13 Cornelia DeDona

Treading Water

I am in awe

most of the people I meet at readings

must’ve known Jesus,

walked down those same streets

carried his cross

up to Golgotha

because their words have power

their speech is charismatic

 perhaps one of the apostles

recruited them to pen their book in Acts

they couldn’t possibly be from the mean streets

of Gotham

couldn’t know the Batman

or have visited Wayne manor in their Rolls Royce

I am humbled at the mastery of syntax

the quiet juxtaposition

metaphor

magic

As they deign to glance in your direction

ethereal in their gray

horn rimmed specs

stained teeth

so hard core

and so frighteningly real.

©10-14-13 Cornelia DeDona