The End As We Know It

Hark, for the end times are upon us

most will sleep through it

right up to the part where we can no longer

fill up the tank and drive to WalMart, or anywhere.

The 30% off coupon at Kohl’s

will expire right along with

our lifestyle

causing our evil twins to rise

like the Zombies that they are

instinctual, without a conscience, profanely

walking the earth

unable to find simple antibiotics or aspirin

back to fire without matches

Cigarettes, obesity and GMO’s won’t kill us

but the seniors living in tunnels and caves after electricity, searching for a triple A battery, might.

And if any survive

within three generations

they may revert back to

wearing animal skins

and wielding stone knives

their incisors will lengthen

and their focus will be singular;

their new communal directive will be to

track down the Mormon pantry and something called a can opener.

Inspired by James Howard Kunstler at the 2014 Woodstock Writer's Festival

Simple Math

For a few minutes

I feel gifted

until my inner fanatic

delivers another sucker punch

rendering the equation useless.

And as the blood drains

I sense a spangled lone star tick

has cracked my code, again.

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.

Trafficking

Inspired by  Jennifer Clement author of, Prayers for the Stolen

Trafficking

in human cargo;

Girls, mostly.

Shuffling them

like a deck of cards

beauty queens

traded to the highest bidder

and then traded again.

Pirated cargo

sold, reshuffled

cut and re-cut

until cynical

and finally sent to jail

to be reformed.

All to keep

the monsters fed

voracious gluttons

who would eat their own mothers

for a filling of gold.

Where is Noah?

Beauty is lost

behind black and blue.

It forgets the green field

the smell of fresh dahlias

the taste of pomegranates

it decays when

sliced up and passed among those

whose foul hearts reek.

Where is Noah?

And how long

before the rains come

again?

Maggie Estep - Emotional Idiot on Def Jam Poetry

A Fresh Impression

Maybe I should pull it

out of my ass;

the unwritten memoir

the poems

the pain

the not soon-to-be forgotten winter that refuses to end.

My friend  said she would shoot herself in the face

except for the dog

her personal savior

who lost weight this winter

loves to dance in the snow

the white powder

glistening on its wet nose, shepherd’s rescued tail, shiny fur

swaying

me to strip

off my inner gloom

and take that first nose-dive  into the past.

Into the still stark white

as I strain

squeezing out excrement, snot and saliva

as black letters bleed-out across the page

combing through the drift

shaking off the bad   

compressing it all into a snow angel

its fragile wings

broadcasting a somber  joy

emerging playful 

and puckish

plummeting    headlong     into the mound.

  

Anthony Robbins - self help

A Weedy Return

Lodged between

a healthy seedling

and a slowly decaying sharp bromeliad

lay a tangled

web of Impatiens.

Take heart,

one twitches

when steady is required

a further adjustment

there, no THERE.

Their shaken world

will either align

or give up the ghost.

Sweet Persephone

Like Persephone   I wait

for Spring,     to burst

can one exchange,   one’s cloth,

clay heart

Rewind to,      once was

get a do over

flower,

or

stop falling.

Cornelia DeDona3-2-14

Inspired by Start by Jean Gallagher: Persephone(2)

Icicles in Snow

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Long suffering

Oracle your circle cages the

Vixen in me

Encompassing past truth; consuming reality.

……

I loved you so completely

I just couldn’t live with you

No one could.

Sorry, I don’t remember last Valentine’s Day

Hopelessly addicted

to the roller coaster;

you awakened something in me

 I could not control

despite your insistence

I fought long and hard to penetrate the frost

and now your love

 pales

in the snow drift

I shovel through

carving new pleasure and pain

ski fresh powder

flawless and persuasive. 

Mind Games

Do you think you are a good person,

you demand of

the liberated me

your scream

howling

between the porous legs of present and past

 as you carp about terror, truth and stunted lives

as you try to saw through my last nerve

as skinny, slant eyed

whiskey whores

parade through purple haze

gorge on your coffers

tramp through your lies

nightmare channel

briefly appeasing you

with their sweet meats

and clotted cream

as the clock strikes past twelve

as you curse in bold print

dripping swear

that you

are a good person.

Meadow Pause Revisited Book Giveaway

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    Goodreads Book Giveaway
 

   

       
   

   

     

          Meadow Pause Revisited
     
     

          by Cornelia "Connie D." DeDona
     

     

         
            Giveaway ends March 12, 2014.
         
         
            See the giveaway details
            at Goodreads.
         
     
   
   

      Enter to win

Connie D at Mohonk Mountain House 2013

Awesome place, we had fun! Shopped at three shops and had complimentary Tea and cookies, yummy!

Embracing My Winter: inspired by, Winter Practice by Jean Gallagher from her book, START

Embracing the Dark

I extend my arms from horizontal

embrace the dark spaces

trace its kiss

It stretches me

pulls me deeper

into its hollow

beyond the now

beyond this solitude.

The Quest

I ask

You answer

The mysteries hover

We slip in and out

of the dark.

Fact checking

googling, getting scroogled

remembering

forgetting

posing as scientists

mining beliefs

digging up dead cultures

amidst the ruins

amidst our ruining temples

playing our parts

playing

with the gods.

© Cornelia DeDona 12-13-13

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

Navigating Change: Making A Difference hosted by Connie D. with Special ...

Pen Arts Building, Washington, DC

http://www.youtube.com/v/0E6EG8_23EI?autohide=1&version=3&autohide=1&feature=share&attribution_tag=n1VCeikOuRyoT9t8MBd2TA&showinfo=1&autoplay=1

NaNoWriMo 2013: Our "Best" Writing Advice

http://www.youtube.com/v/ys7LKtkJpk4?version=3&autohide=1&autohide=1&autoplay=1&feature=share&showinfo=1&attribution_tag=SpPvyC7i9itn0i0q7c4BYg

Mohamed Hijri: A simple solution to the coming phosphorus crisis (+playl...

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25 Editing Tips for Tightening Your Copy

Some great tips to get you in the right mind or left...Whatever!!

25 Editing Tips for Tightening Your Copy

#BUSY

They all mean well

they are just busy.

Don’t you love that word

#BUSY?

It’s the #trending excuse for not prying.

To answer one of your many questions and address your

temporary state of un-busyness;

I am happy with my choices

finally.

Yes, life is short

and winter is fast approaching

and twill be cold outside

in the frigid North.

Thankfully, I am not homeless

or penniless

or winter would be dreadful indeed.

Got to run now

I am  #busy.

Balls to the Wall

Leaving Neverland

What stopped me

all the time

was

the lack of cash

the self-doubt

the fear that I wouldn’t make it on my own

You assured me of that.

Everyone

including your mother, warned me to

put some money away

because even though I was in love

and blind

they know how you are.

I reasoned that the time was not right

that perhaps if I gave it a chance

I would change you

or even

see things from your

point of view

but

that never happened.

On countless occasions

when you snowed me

I had decided that I must be insane

to doubt you.

After all

you were a good provider

and always right

even when you were wrong

you were right

because

you told me so.

And I being the younger

less mature one

I would have to abide by that fact

unless of course

I could come up with some hard facts of my own

I didn’t.

I wanted so much to believe.

I gave up on myself when I met you

Your master plan was to shape me into a Wendy

I just had to cooperate

I didn’t

I fought you tooth and nail

You told me to just do it and not to think

Don’t think!

I thought

I don’t have to be here at all.

I can conjure another Peter Pan

he can claim me as one of the found

we can have adventures together

be kids

I could just be me.  And this Peter

this Peter would be proud. 

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

Worth sharing!

Hugh Howey’s Top 10 List of Counterintuitive Tips for Self-Publishers

Hugh Howey with a Wool poster in the London Underground.

1. Asking people to buy your book doesn’t work. Instead, try to entertain or enlighten with your Facebook posts and tweets.

2. The people who sell your books are your existing readers. Concentrate on interacting with them and being accessible.

3. There is no promotion as strong as writing the next book. None. That always comes first.

4. It doesn’t matter how quickly your book jumps out of the gate upon release. An undiscovered book remains fresh and new. You have the rest of your life to promote or gain sales, so keep writing!

5. Give your books away. You need to build up a fan base. That means free ebooks, sample chapters, and not worrying about piracy or DRM.

6. A good agent is your best friend. Even if you don’t want to sign with a publishing house, there are overseas markets and media rights that they can help you with.

7. An email list is more powerful than Twitter or Instagram (though not quite as powerful as Facebook). You want to reach out to those who are receptive, those who have signed up to hear from you. Build that newsletter email list as soon as possible.

8. Videos are worth a million words. Readers love connecting with and getting to know their favorite authors. Shoot a video rather than typing out a blog post. They are quick to watch and easy to share.

9. Be yourself. This shouldn’t be counterintuitive. I hope it isn’t. Don’t lose sight of who you are. Embrace the awkwardness, the glee, the dumbfoundedness.

10. Authors are not in competition with one another. We are in this together. A happy reader buys more books, so celebrate others doing well and help who you can. Remember those who helped you. Pass it along.