it’s not because
I’ve fallen out of
love with you
or dumped you for
some younger, older or
buffer blogging buddy.
It’s because I’m sculpting tunes,
practicing guitar and spying on peeps
from trees in my kelp knitted bikini.
One day I even washed the dishes,
another did a whole load of laundry,
and last Friday I baked an apple!
Other times I do not come to your blog
I’m in the ocean of my mind, helping starfish
fill out applications for their dream jobs.
Many starfish long to be pilots,
pro baseball coaches and assistants
to make-up artists on movies.
The pink one I met today
wants only to be a mermaid
who sells peas at the circus.
(boiled with butter, on a tray with 2 bottles of beer!)
I swim wild here in my ocean.
I bob like some guy named Bob
in pockets of rainbow ripples.
But back to what started this poem…
When I do not come to your blog
it’s also probably because Blue Bunny
and I are singing on street corners
where the saints imbibe.
iPhone pix recently of Kelly at her friends’ outdoor saltwater pool with a plexiglass viewing area.
Posted with love by Jannie, who is behind with blog-reading again, but hopes to get out soon.
xoxooxox
Comments:
What if everything’s a poem?
— the sky in your eyes?
— the leaves of light in your hair?
— the swirls in your lollipop on a Central Park afternoon?
— the shirts on your clothesline smelling like balconies of hope?
— the dance of umbrellas on your miracle of misty morning?
— this moment here in the heart of time?
Okay, Dudes and Dudettes, I believe that was 55 words of flashy fiction for His Excellence, The G-Man.
Posted with love, by Jannie who Highly Recommends the 55 word experience!
xoxoxoxooxoxoxoxox
Comments:
Poetry | Posted by Jannie on 1 June 2011 @ 2:13 PM
Tonight I am up while the world sleeps,
this hour my own special secret.
My hounds would love to run with me
across the windy moor above my castle.
But I am more inclined to sit here
at my table piled high with songs.
I am barefoot and wearing cut-offs,
the pant legs long — skimming my patellas.
(I was going to write scapulas.)
Glad I remembered the correct word,
and averted embarassing
myself in a poem again.
I am still quite young!
Tho today I told myself not a few times.
(It’s best not to listen to the self
when it’s feeling cranky.)
My legs are strong, many miles left in them.
My arms are totally HOT these days!!
🙂
(I guess the arm thing sounds like bragging
but I have been working out with my 3 lb weights
on The Trail many mornings,
the most magical place I know.)
My name is Jannie.
I am up late.
All the world is sleeping.
Except for the ones dancing.
— end of poem
Kelly took those 2 pix at our final Friday morning school concert last week.
See my raging biceps!?!?
🙂
🙂
🙂
Posted with love and semi-buffness of upper limbs by: Jannie of the dumbell dell.
xoxooxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxo
Oh and here is totally an iPhone pic I took this morning.
The little fuzzy guy (or gal) is called a Nutria.
I had never in all my days in 21 years here in Texas heard of one of those, let alone seen one.
He (or she) is kind of like an otter / small beaver but with a long rat tail.
Was so cute sitting up cleaning itself like a bunny does.
And seemed quite tame, let the bread tossers get close.
Bye now!!!
xxoxooxoxoxo
Comments:
git yourself on over here
and gaze upon your button
on my special Friends Page,
knowing that you are very
special to me, and not diluted
in any way because there
are so many buttons now,
and growing — when I stop to
design and code a new one
instead of walking the windy song moors
swimming with Blue Bunny’s dolphin friends
and photographing mystery flowers.
And if you don’t have a button
yet, or dream of me making you
and Even Lovelier & Better One,
just keep on popping in here
and commenting, knowing that
sooner than later I will notice
your Extreme Awesomeness,
make a friend connection with you
and lo — ye shall be buttonized,
which comes with a 24 / 7 invitation
to join me up in my wine-drinking tree
for as long as we both shall love.
Posted with Extreme Love, by: Jannie of the Wine Singing Way.
Comments:
Poetry, The Pea | Posted by Jannie on 21 May 2011 @ 12:06 PM
SAXON by: Kelly Funster (Age 9)
Saxon can be somewhat fun,
Especially if you are done.
A lesson is thirty questions,
The book is one [hundred] twenty lessons.
I’ve been doing it all morning long,
And when I do it I sing a song.
A few more lessons then I’ll stop,
Maybe ten more, then I’ll surely drop.
I’ve done my Saxon for the week,
And now my Saxon level’s at its peak.
I want to do some other stuff,
I have done four lessons and that’s enough.
I was helping her look through her backpack for her missing Saxon math sheet yesterday morning.
She was in a panic that she’d get “study hall” if she didn’t turn in her finished work.
Me : What’re those? (I pointed to a couple of folded-up papers on the car seat.)
She: Oh, just some poems I wrote last week.
Me: Can I read them?
She: Sure.
…..
Me: Kelly these are wonderful!!!! And hilarious!! Can I post them on my blog?
She: No, Moooom.
Me: Please. I’ll buy you some candy for after dinner.
She: Oh, sure. Post away!
Her Saxon book’s at school, else I would’ve photographed her with it for you today.
But these photos I took 2 days ago are pretty cute too.
This was her own get-up idea she wore to school.
Wait until you read her other poem — about her “Wordly Wise” language arts book.
Oh my goodness.
She. Cracks. Me. UP!
Posted by Jannie, the mom of the candy bribing rewarding hills.
🙂
With love to YOU — of course!
xoxoxoxooxoxoxoo
Comments:
