Carpe Diem #1773: Tanka: Bury Me on the Lone Prairie

Image Copyright Aubrey Danielle

when my time is done

I want my last breaths to be

on the lone prairie

not in a hospital room

I leave with the whistling wind

~Cie~

Notes:

You happier chappies are probably saying "ugh, there goes that gloomy old Cie with another gloomy poem." But I don't think this poem is gloomy. I think it's real.

I worked in long-term care for most of the 25 years that I was in the medical field. I think that people who work in this setting tend to become very adamant that we do not want to end up dying in a medicalized setting.

My father died in a hospice center. It was a peaceful place with a spacious, comfortable room. He was in constant pain and losing his capacity to think and remember things. It was much better than being in a hospital or nursing home. But for myself, I don't want my end to be even that medicalized. I want to look out the window and see my Lone Prairie before I rise up and walk away on the wind that constantly blows in these parts.

Visit the Artist

Ghost Town Grover Sez:

"Dagnabit, Ornery, ya morbid ole cuss! Ya done went and made Cactus Clem gloomy with all yer chatter about croakin'. Now, I know I'm a ghost, but I've been a ghost fer near to 110 years. We ghosts like to whoop it up on Halloween night, but I ain't gonna be doin' much whoopin' it up if I've gotta be tryin' to cheer Cactus Clem up. So, what the heck are you gonna do about it?"

Image by nancy sticke from Pixabay

Visit the Artist

Cactus Clem Sez:

"Aw, thanks Ornery! Them ghost puppies is jest the thing to cheer a feller!"

Happy Halloween from the Grover Hotel Gang

Esther Jones: I Just Live Here: OctPoWriMo 31 - PEACE, an acrostic

Esther Jones: I Just Live Here: OctPoWriMo 31 - PEACE, an acrostic: Prompt: Finding Peace PEACE, an acrostic P ause E verything A nd C atch E quanimity

Something I have to remind myself to do.

Carpe Diem Tan Renga Wednesday (3) + OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 30: Clarity

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crystal brook

reflects the willow trees

birds sing their song

who I am is clear

where I'm going, not so much

~Yozakura & Cie~

Notes:

The Hokku stanza of this Tan Renga was written by Yozakura, the Unknown Haiku Poet. The Ageku (two-line) stanza was created by me. I married the Carpe Diem prompt and the OctPoWriMo prompt, and this Tan Renga is their baby.

OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 29 + Carpe Diem #1771 Lightness of Being the Firefly

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longing for the grass

at the bottom of the pool

those fireflies.

longing for the grass

with lust almost immoral

they light up the night

at the bottom of the pool

they float free now of burden

solitude sublime

those fireflies

craving no deeper meaning

than being alive

Basho & Cie

Notes:

The "sleigh" of this Troiku was created by Matsuo Basho (1644 - 1694). The team of firefly horses was guided by me.

I just noticed this Emoji icon in the bottom right corner of my post. It looks all pissed off and frazzled. I laugh, as this is the first poem in several days that has been at peace with things. It's about fireflies, just doing firefly stuff, longing for grass, and lighting up the night. I didn't notice the Emoji thing yesterday or the day before. Maybe it exploded upon being exposed to the radioactive rage of my post.

Now it's a starched white shirt with a red tie. Apparently, the fireflies have gone into business and are dressing the part.

Carpe Diem #1770: Tomtit

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gold and black jewel

sitting with ruby berries

voice like a gold bell

~Cie~

Notes:

Imma admit that I have no idea what a tomtit sounds like. A blue tit sounds like this.

Sara Lazar PhD

Carpe Diem Solo No Renga + Haiku My Heart + OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 25: White

Image by David Mark from Pixabay

Note:

This is a poem about my dislike of the fur industry and disdain for those who wear fur as a fashion accessory. It is not pretty, so you may not care to read it.

why do some wish to

stain the white snow red with blood

to steal the white fur?

why do some wish to

stain the white snow red with blood

to steal the white fur?

profit their motivation
their souls are dead within them

why do some wish to
subject the innocent to 
their cold-hearted whims?
the cries of the dying fall
on deaf ears and decayed hearts

stain the white snow red
to line their pockets with gold
all for fashion's sake
fur lovely on the living
becomes ugly with carnage

to steal the white fur
go with clubs and guns and traps
animals in cages
not out of necessity
strictly a status symbol

strictly for profit
from the wealthy and heartless
wear their victim's pain
the beautiful fur adorns
the carcass now lies bloody

souls are dead within
the heartless social climbers
who wear their victims
as adornments draped over
their unfeeling carcasses

~Sly~

image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com

Cie's activist alter-ego Sly Fawkes has been on a tear the past couple of days.

Haiku My Heart + OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 25: White: A Senryu

Image by David Mark from Pixabay

why do some wish to

stain the white snow red with blood

to steal the white fur?

~Sly~

image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com

Cie's activist alter-ego Sly Fawkes has been on a tear the past couple of days.

Carpe Diem #1768: Crow: A Senryu

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old black crow and me

we have a lot in common

both misunderstood

~Cie~

OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 24: Breathe the Poison

Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay

Surrender to the charismatic

Greedy, self-serving lies

Of those who would empower

Themselves by climbing upon

The backs of the downtrodden

Who will work for nothing for the rest of their lives

Let yourselves be hypnotized

By the siren song of a life glamorized

By the throbbing club music of the pied piper

Who tells you all you have to do is trust in him

You will wonder what you ever did without him

He is not a self-serving psychopath at all

He is soma for the masses of disenfranchised

Overworked and unappreciated

Ripe for his lies

You too can have fame and glory

If you just breathe deeply of the toxins released

By the Cult of Personality

~Sly~

Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com

Another one from the persistently nasty mind of Sly Fawkes, professional dissenter

Did I already share this song?

Cool. 

Here it is again.

Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille, October 23rd 2019, autumn beach

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chilly autumn wind

causes water on the lake

to shiver to shore

~Cie~

Carpe Diem Tan Renga Wednesday #2: October Beach

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October beach

in all the footprints

the tread of shoes

I say we kick off our shoes

let the cool sand soothe our feet

~Jane & Cie~

Notes:

The Hokku stanza was written by Jane Reichhold (1937 -2016). The Akegu (two-line) stanza was created by me.

Carpe Diem #1766: Mouse

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a mouse is quite cute

so long as it stays outside

in the house, trouble

~Cie~

Notes:

I have a story now. 

In 2001, the first year that my son and I were in the mobile home (the one we are now clearing out to sell), we had a problem with mice. Fortunately, we also had a mousetrap. 

Our mousetrap was the big gray and white guy, although he was still a juvenile then. His name was Raymond (2001 - 2018). One of my co-workers took in a pregnant cat. Raymond, seen here with his brother Leon (2001 - 2017) was one of the kittens. Leon, obviously, was another of the same litter.

One day Raymond dropped on my pillow what I thought was the back half of a catnip mouse. I was half right. There was no "catnip" to this mouse. I screamed and hurried the mouse ass outside. I can only reason that Raymond ate the head and figured that it would be kind to offer me the butt.

Raymond caught a couple more mice. Then the mice must have gotten savvy to the fact that there was a cat in the house and stopped coming around.

I had to have Raymond put to sleep when he was 17. He had tumors all over his body including his digestive tract and in his forehead. I probably shouldn't have waited as long as I did. 

Leon had to be put to sleep a few months prior. He developed feline infectious peritonitis, which puzzled me because I never let my cats outside, except for Isis, who was semi-feral and I couldn't keep her in. The vet said that the FIP had probably been dormant in Leon's system for his entire life. It can sometimes take many years for it to become active.

Anyway, I never was keen on the bone-crusher type of mousetrap. If you don't have a mouse-head-eater like Raymond living in your house and you have mice, try a humane trap like Ghost Town Grover sells in his general store. If you order through the link, we earn a small commission.

OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 20: Haibun My Way: From the Mountains to the Prairie

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

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You see a lot of these critters along the county roads leading to Grover. You have to be careful because sometimes they'll want to cross the road. Unfortunately, I see a fair number of them dead on the roadside. Hitting one would probably total my car, which is one reason I don't like to drive after dark on the Lone Prairie.

And now, on to our Haibun.

In the days of my youth, I loved to party. If anyone asked me to go out to a club, I’d immediately say “yes.” I loved to drink and dance.

I always dreamed of living in a glorious mansion, the sort of place that was the toast of the town.

I have always loved the mountains. For most of my life I lived near the mountains and could not imagine living anywhere else.

The prairie? “Well, how bland and boring is that?” I asked myself.

Except I never really found the prairie bland and boring. I was just repeating what I was supposed to think. Still, I could not imagine living in a place where I couldn’t see the mountains.

Then just this year, I discovered a place a hundred miles from where I’d lived for many years: a place way out on the prairie.

I no longer see the mountains every day, but I love what I see now just as much.

My dream home is in a place that I couldn’t have imagined, far from city nightlife, way out on the prairie. I wouldn’t want it to be anyplace else, and if you asked me to go clubbing these days, I’d look at you as if you had three heads because I can imagine few things I’d want to do less. I prefer to stay home and listen to the wind whistling through the prairie grass instead.

the whispering wind

billowing the prairie grass

sounds like home to me

~Cie~

Notes:

Visit the Artist

Ghost Town Grover Sez: 

"I liked this here High Bun. I ain't up to writin' no High Bun myself right now, but I got a poem fer y'all.

In the days of old when I mined fer gold

Life shore was excitin'

But these days I prefer an easier life

So the Lone Prairie is more invitin'

Visit the Artist

Cactus Clem sez:

"I like that Ornery writes poetry that's more rootin' tootin' than High Fallutin'. I ain't never fit in real well with them High Fallutin' folks myself. Which is okay, 'cause I think them high society parties is kinda boring anyways.

I don't like to go to parties

In the high society

'Cause it's a prickly problem

When them fancy folks stick to me

If you'd like to read Grover and Clem's Halloween adventure, Horrible Harvest, click here.

Eilona Ariel

Haiku My Heart + Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille: A Year of Many Endings

Background image by David Mark on Pixabay

Words/text art by The Real Cie

OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 18: Disappointment

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Fair warning that the following is salty, blasphemous, and should not be read in polite company or impolite company either. Probably more a rant than a poem.

The first time I was disappointed
I was probably a baby
Whose annoying crying was ignored

But the first time I remember
Really feeling heartbroken
I was three years old

I found a dead butterfly
And was hurt to realize
That the God I was taught to worship

Left this creature broken
Knowledge such as this
Was supposed to strengthen my faith

Teach me to engage in prayer
To beg God for mercy
But as it happens

I don't care to worship
A God you're supposed to fear
I gave up years ago

Giving devotion to a deity
Who wants my piety
But knows no mercy

Whenever I feel broken
And am fool enough to express myself
Someone feels the need to tell me

That this too shall pass
These words don't bring me comfort
These words are kerosene

Those words stir up my ire
My ire is the fire
To ignite their lily ass

~Cie~

Carpe Diem #1765: Squirrel

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I remember when

you took peanuts from my hand

in a world long gone

~Cie~

Notes:

Remembering feeding the squirrels peanuts when I was 10 years old.

That is 44 years ago.

Carpe Diem #1764: Ants

Image by FRANCO PATRIZIA from Pixabay

have not seen any

ants marching through my pantry

dead hornet in sink

~Cie~

Notes:

I've encountered most of the usual suspect home invaders out here on the Lone Prairie: flies, hornets, mosquitoes, but no ants yet. My son and I have found several dead hornets. I suppose they came in when we opened the window on hot days. The windows need screens, which is probably a project for spring.

OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 16: Harried to the Grave

Image by fancycrave1 from Pixabay

it does not matter

matter one measure if

if you measure your time

time on an Apple watch

watch your time on an old

old beat-up analog tick-tick 

tick-tick the sound

sound as time is running out

out of your wasting life

life where triumphs come

come slowly and don't seem

seem to stick around at all

all the while your life is wasting

wasting away fast as a wish

wish you would stop

stop giving away 

away all your me time

time to see time as

as a commodity time

time does not come free

free time does not align

align with being a successful

successful mess who never

never ever stops

stops to wind her old watch

watch time slip away 

away until one day 

day when there are

are no more days

days are numbered from the first

first moment you take a breath

breath that leads to death

death comes for us all

all of us must fall

fall back into the time

time when time didn't matter 

matter meant nothing

nothing meant anything

anything was possible

possible dreams

dreams become schemes

schemes become obsession

obsession consumes life

life becomes lie

lie down and die

die and become

become as you were before earth

earth before your birth 

birth

earth

~Cie~

Note:

I was always one of those "I'll sleep when I'm dead" kinds of people. I worked long hours at physically taxing jobs. I worked long weeks filled with long hours. I was proud of being able to push myself well past the limits. 

My diabetes got worse, I had a small stroke, and I had a severe injury to the median nerve in my left arm. My ability to work long hours at physically difficult jobs was gone forever. At the point when I had a small stroke, I was fired from my job as a home health nurse.

I live with fairly frequent suicide ideation, but the actual planning levels are pretty low as a rule. After I was fired, I started making plans to commit suicide because I felt like the world's worst fuck-up, like without my job I was nothing. 

This is not going to be one of those "oh, but I'm so glad I didn't because I found God, got down to a single-digit pants size, somehow started looking half my age, married GQ Cover Model Guy, and now my life is a Hallmark Channel movie" stories. 

Nah.

Still a crabby, fat, romanceless, agnostic, middle-aged, broke-ass curmudgeon. Still would be homeless if it wasn't for my son's kindness. 

But I am glad I didn't commit suicide because if I had I wouldn't have been able to help my son get this house, and I wouldn't have found me.

Me is kind of an asshole, but we're on better terms these days now that I've had the time to get to know her a little.

Also, I have a feeling that sometimes those Hallmark Channel happy crappy stories about pretty people hooking up and living happily ever after might even make some people depressed. Like, you know, me. I think some people may need to know that an old crabby fat bitch learned that old, crabby, fat bitches have something to offer too without changing one fucking thing about themselves.