no kitchen in woods
although raccoons wash their food
we love our kitchens
for Daily Addictions
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no kitchen in woods
although raccoons wash their food
we love our kitchens
for Daily Addictions
Filed under: Haiku, Uncategorized | Tagged: Daily Addictions, Haiku, haikus, writing prompts | Leave a comment »
territorial
most animals are like that
but anyone can move
for Fandango One-word Challenge
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bird conversation
mostly asking and waiting
parent and teen too
for The Daily Spur
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life’s simplicity
you are born, you live, you die
humans seek comfort
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wolf cries by dead mate
emotional sounds at night
my sobs more quiet
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Last time I was here, in 1975, the city held half a million souls and was a comfortable place to be. The Portuguese had just left, though many of their countrymen remained. Then a civil war that lasted until 2002 drove refugees to the city. Now there are 8 million residents, sprawling slums, and from the picture, you can guess why malaria is a big problem.
Luanda is the largest Portuguese-speaking city in the world. Many Brazilians, growing number of Chinese and Vietnamese. Plus a few ex-pat buddies of mine.
That’s me on the right. A few Angolans are very, very rich and a lot of Angolans are very, very poor. Lowest life expectancy in Africa, last time I checked.
It’s a country rich in resources and there is a lot of building going on, including some to help replace the slums. Fingers crossed, but climate change threatens Luanda five different ways.
for What Pegman Saw
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As a child they said he was delicate.
Fragile.
Rheumatic fever drained him. Pneumonia struck in the winter.
He was a nervous boy with thin arms and legs. Sunken chest.
But also with an aura. Something subtle and fine. The bullies left him alone.
An uncle called him fine-grained.
He was kind to animals, especially the injured ones.
In high school and college, he grew. Filled out.
Became tall, graceful, mild. A volunteer. A positive force.
Medical school agreed with him. The frail reed now the oak.
Called on for those operations requiring the most delicate procedures.
In the fullness of his years, his essence unchanged.
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warriors
the bitterness of pickles
in the talk
the death of friends fresh in mind
sour acid burns the throat
basho/joem
for Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation
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They say men are like dogs.
for Saturday Six Word Story Prompt
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first light on the first day of the rest of my life.
i leap from my bed and fling up the sash.
my heart also leaps from its bed and flings up my mood.
the sun and birdsong and automatic-sprinkler sounds hit me in the face.
i fling off my pajamas and some lingering doubts.
skip breakfast although it’s the most important meal.
go out front and pull up the croquet wickets and collect the newspaper.
i’m clearing the front yard.
hurry to telephone poles around the neighborhood and tack up my signs.
and back home, roust out the kids and feed them.
and finally, out front with them where i attach all the price tags.
they’re expensive but worth it and even if i sell only one it would be a great start.
for The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest
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