Ode to Elly


Blogophilia 50.3 Topic: “There is no “I” in Team”

Bonus Points:

(Hard, 2pts):  mention a Maya Angelou quote
(Easy, 1pt) : incorporate a unique use for honey

Final date to post: February 12th, 2011 GMT midnight
Final date to post ALL GUESSES: February 15th, 2011 GMT midnight

 

Ode to Elly

I read the news and sat motionless for hours,
Staring out the window at the sky black as coal.
I searched in vain for solace, words of wisdom…
As pangs of sorrow echoed through my soul.

She painted passionate portraits with her quill,
A songbird’s cry, whispering lovers who part.
Her words are the honey that soothes the sting
They hold together the broken pieces of our hearts.

Now our heads bow down in silent prayer,
Hot tears melding with the gentle winter rain.
Hear her tender voice wafting in the breeze…
Filling us with warm comfort, easing the pain.

She is an angel in funky boots watching over us all,
Surely as the fading sun sets and distant planets spin.
She sails on in dark skies, ever dancing on moonbeams…
Nothing can dim the light which shines from within.

Colleen M. Breuning © 2011
February 11, 2011

I was all set to let Tommy take the helm this week and write a funny blog.  That was, until I woke up this morning and went through my usual habit of checking the Facebook feed.  It was so early I had not even had my first cup of coffee.  I was directed over to a Myspace Blog written by my dear friend Lainey, where I read the heartbreaking news that our beloved friend Elly Funky Boots had passed away of lung cancer on Tuesday, February 8.  I was, quite simply, stunned…. and deeply saddened.

To all of the writers who knew her on Myspace, Elly Funky Boots was a sweet, compassionate woman with a heart of gold and a very talented pen.  More than that, she had a wicked sense of humor and was a real friend to everyone she encountered.  She was an integral part of the CPC and Harmony Pub blogs, and she truly was one of those people who believed that there was no “I” in Team. She collaborated with fellow poets, encouraged fledgling writers and even hosted poetic challenges at different venues at Myspace during the blogging heydays.

I had the privilege to get to know Elly a little better in 2009, when she became a featured poet at my e-zine Blue Turtle Crossing.  She was very gracious and generous, basically granting me full access to her blogs to pick and choose from the many delightful offerings of her poetry.  She was intensely private, preferring to only go by her pen name of Elly.  I had prod her a little to allow her to let me publish a photograph of her on the site, as she was a very modest lady who preferred to let her adorable, wild “funky boots” avatars set her apart from all the rest.

I never even knew that her real name was Patty until today.  Rest in peace, dearest Patty.  You will be missed, my dear friend.

Marvin, the Maya Angelou quote I used is:

“Nothing can dim the light which shines from within.”

Also ~ I will send in my secret bonus points separately this week, as I do not want to detract from the serious nature of this blog.

HUGS and LOVE to all my friends who knew and loved Elly!

A Bitter Pill

Blogophilia 49.3 Topic: “In the Eyes of the Beholder”

Bonus Points:

(Hard, 2 pts): s-p-e-l-l out a word in conversation
(Easy, 1 pt): use the phrase “working together”

Final Date to post: February 8, 2011 GMT midnight

Final Date to post ALL GUESSES: February 5, 2011 GMT midnight

"A Bitter Pill" by 18CRoWNs@DeviantArt (c) 2011


A Bitter Pill

Something is brewing in discontent skies,
Brown palm fronds tremble, the air turns colder.
Out of black clouds tumble heartache and lies…
Truth is in the eyes of the beholder.

Hours pass endless, the phone doesn’t ring,
Churning anxiety, piquing my fears.
My heart being played like violin strings…
Appease me, tell me what I want to hear.

Dread and deceit erupt in a wildfire.
Working together, they engulf my mind.
Out of control, an inferno so dire…
The flames scar my soul, the smoke leaves me blind.

Rise from the ashes, believe what you will…
Reality is such a bitter pill.

Colleen M. Breuning © 2011
February 1, 2011

Hi there, Blogophiliacs and friends!  Just releasing a little dark ink this evening, no worries!  I have been reading online about the terrible storms that are ravaging most of the country and bombarding everyone with even more dreaded (dare I say it???) S-N-O-W and I-C-E! I’ve even read some fun poems about it in some of the Facebook notes.

I know it’s hard for anyone to believe, but after spending the last 23 years in the heat & humidity of South Florida, I sometimes find myself longing for a little bit of the white stuff….. but not THAT much!!!  No, I’m not trying to rub it in.  I grew up in Maryland, and I vividly remember dreading scraping the windshields and driving in the stuff. That was NOT fun.  Please stay safe and warm, everyone… and hang tight, spring will be here before you know it!!! xoxo

SECRET BONUS POINT GUESSES:

Great dames (danes), man’s/woman’s best friend, it’s a dog’s life, bathing beauties, beachcombers, beach bums, sepia, strike a pose, she’s got legs, models, golden retrievers, flapper swimsuit, summer dreams, vogue, pinups, postcards from the past.

The Gardener

Blogophilia 48.3  Topic:  “Spring Fever”

Bonus Points:

(Hard, 2 pts): incorporate 2 electric wood working tools
(Easy, 1 pt) : mention a cracked pot

The Old Gardener by Thomas Kiefer (c) 2011

“The Old Gardener” by Thomas Kiefer (c) 2011

The Gardener

Every March saw him grow restless,
he felt the rush of spring fever
coursing through his ambitious veins,
evidenced by dog-eared Burpee catalogs
and tattered gardener’s books
stacked beside the painted pantry.
Strong arthritic fingers dug
into coarse, pungent loam,
pushing tiny seeds deep down,
in a blanket of black compost,
sprinkled with water and love.

In his modest backyard garden
lilac bushes perfumed the air,
purple morning-glory caressed
the varnished wooden arbor,
tangerine daylilys waved from beds
beside rows of violet snapdragons,
standing tall, on guard like soldiers.
Robust bell peppers pushed forth
in brilliant hues of green and scarlet,
savory sun ripened tomato vines
crawled high up wooden stakes
like rogue bladerunners
reaching for the cloudless sky.

But in a cruel twist of fate,
the heartless hands of winter
took the tired gardener
during the bleakest blizzard.
Spring dawned with April rain,
but the tiny garden fell
into inevitable disrepair —
cracked pots of terra-cotta
speckled with mud lay
beneath the weathered arbor,
weeds sprouted up, choking
the life out of the seedlings,
leaving once fertile beds
dry and barren.

The latch of the shed has rusted,
but the aluminum door gives way
to tools of his precious trade.
I feel a surge in my restless veins
as I grab the blue tined rake
and work the dirt, sweating,
sifting out stones, dead roots,
and clumps of dried weeds.
My nimble thin fingers
enrich the beds with loam,
dig trenches to scatter seeds,
rubber boots tamping down soil,
embellishing with cool water
as my heart fills with hope
that life and love will bloom again…

I can almost smell the lilacs.

Colleen M. Breuning © 2011
January 27, 2011

Note to Marvin: My tools are the saw and the bladerunner. The Rockwell BladeRunner RK7320 Cutting Machine is a combination of a jigsaw, scroll saw and band saw, all in one variable speed machine. Versatile machine cuts wood, metal, PVC, ceramic tile and more. Hmmm…. put that on my birthday list, hehe….

SECRET BONUS POINT GUESSES

Taking out the trash, Louis Vuitton bag, rags to riches, bags to riches, fit for a king, designer garbage bag, rich man’s bag, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure (or woman’s treasure), recycling in style, cats got the bag, my front porch, rubbish, no dumping allowed.

Lily Speaks ~ A Haiku Series

Blogophilia 46.3

Topic: “Clear a Passageway”

Bonus points:
(Hard, 2pts): feature a talking plant
(Easy, 1pt): use the word “moil” (means to labor or toil)

Final date to post: January 18th, 2010, GMT midnight

 

Lily Speaks ~ A Haiku Series

The sun stretches west,
feathery rays of gold paint
wispy silken clouds.

Down dampened mud banks,
fingers clear a passageway
between the sawgrass.

From coral rock seat,
I behold the hidden pond,
As green herons moil.

Verdant lilypads
Whisper of serenity,
Promise of new dawn.

Dragonfly alights,
Luminescent paper wings
Flutter in the breeze.

Lily speaks of peace.
Her fragrance intoxicates,
My soul’s healing balm.

Black water ripples,
As cool wind caresses me…
I am born again.

Colleen M. Breuning © 2011
January 13, 2011


SECRET BONUS POINT GUESSES:

Winter wonderland, Roman holiday, snow angels, Italian Ice, there’s no business like snow business, snow globe, frozen fountains, when Rome freezes over….

The Cartographer’s Last Request

The Cartographer’s Last Request

Long ago he etched the seas,
scaled distant mountains
and traversed dense jungles,
this drawer of lines,
wielding astrolabe and pen
with masterful precision.

A dust-laden mahogany desk
bears witness to his labors:
tarnished sextant,
musty gilt-edged tomes,
barren inkwell…
tools of his trade,
this dying art.

He whispers with gravel voice
and sense of urgency.
I lean my ear closer
with deep reverence,
straining to hear somber words
rise from his heaving chest.

Meet me at the point of demarcation,
stand firm on the longitude of today.
Do not fall east and wallow in yesterday
or the fruitless west of tomorrows
that may never come to pass…
for the earth belongs to the living,
not to the dead.”

He lies in the waning moon
of his fading twilight,
eyes dim in lined alabaster face,
frail ink-stained hands motionless.
The north arrow points homeward,
the mariner’s final destiny.

I gaze upon his lithographs,
finely etched artifacts,
fingers tracing serpentine
this international date line…
and my minds eye visualizes
a swim in the Indian Ocean,
trek in snow laden peaks,
verdant African rainforests.

He leaves his legacy
inscribed in parchment,
the fruition of adventure
and colorful imagination…
masterpieces of history
bearing compass rose
and an indelible watermark,
the fertile essence of his soul.

Colleen M. Breuning © 2011
January 5, 2011

Thomas Jefferson quote used:  “The earth belongs to the living, not to the dead.”

Tequila ~ A Sonnet

Blogophilia 42.3 Topic: “The Taste of Lime”

Bonus points:
(Hard, 2pts): Mention Purple Hair
(Easy, 1pt): Include a Black Haired Dancer

Final date to post: December 20th, 2010, GMT midnight

 

Tequila ~ A Sonnet

His hair glows purple beneath neon lights…
Cheshire cat smile, dark angel in disguise.
I’m sinking deep in this powerless plight…
Lost at sea, drowning in ebony eyes.

I search for answers, my fears to allay…
A few shots of Cuervo to ease my pains.
Choking it down, it takes my breath away…
Oh Tequila, your warmth inside my veins!

I move to the rhythm, fueled by the fire…
I let my black hair down and dance for you.
Locked in your arms, I succumb to desire…
Entangled in passion the whole night through.

Shaken and stirred, I lost all sense of time…
Yet on my tongue remains the taste of lime.

Colleen M. Breuning © 2010

December 15, 2010

SECRET BONUS POINT GUESSES:

Clones, cubicle wars, in my own little cubby, office space, worker bees, drones,
inside the hive, corporate world, big brother is watching, computer world,
hackers, empty nest…. I give up!

Winds of Change

Winds of Change

The maelstrom is rapidly approaching
As the ominous gray clouds portend.
We do not know the havoc to be wrought
When those winds of change descend.

Waves of transformation crash upon us,
Causing devastation and unending pain.
Crawling through a black labyrinth as
Desperation sets in, feeling quite insane.

We sink into a black hole of hopelessness
Devoid of breath, consumed by fear.
We cry out in the vacuum of space,
But does anybody out there hear?

They say advice is what we ask for
When we cannot make a choice.
When we face our darkest days,
We struggle within to find our voice.

We will find our way back to the light,
Like a gypsy moth drawn to the flame.
But we will never quite be the way we were,
For nothing in life ever stays the same.

Colleen M. Breuning © 2010
December 4, 2010

This poem was written for Blogophilia, a writing group that originated on Myspace.  I am posting it after the fact to get some practice over here on WordPress.

Blogophilia 40.3 Topic: “The Way We Were”


(Hard, 2pts): complete the phrase “Advice is what we ask for….”
(Easy, 1pt): include the word ‘insane’

Final date to post:  December 7, 2010 GMT Midnight.

No picture given for secret bonus points this week.

We’re supposed to guess based on the topic, so here goes…

SECRET BONUS POINTS:

Barbara Streisand, Robert Redford, Misty water colored memories,

light the corners of my mind, evergreen, winds of change, crazy,

scattered in the wind.

Lifeline

Lifeline

The veil of sadness
fell down upon me,
invoking dark shadows
and shades of melancholy.

Crimson tears trickle,
scarring and burning.
The world tilts and spins,
the pages of life keep turning.

The mind grows weary,
witness to brutal violence.
It longs for quiet sanctuary,
seeking justice and penance.

The lifeline has been cast out
into the sea of great sorrow.
Just hold on tight to the rope,
Until the sun rises tomorrow.

Colleen M. Breuning © 2010
October 10, 2010

Hello world!

Hello WordPress world!! It’s me, Colleen Breuning aka “Colleen B.” Yes, I’m new over here. I decided to give things a try blogging here. The drama of Myspace and its never-ending changes have frustrated me…and Facebook is not conducive to blogging. I will still be on both sites, of course. But I’m just going to give it a go over here, as a few of my friends have started blogging here.

So if you happen upon my little “hello world” blog, send me a request here. Of course, I’m new and not up on the protocol. Are there friend requests, even? Or do you just have followers? I haven’t gotten that far yet…. LOL

Have a great day everyone!

xoxo

Colleen