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 Apr 2018 Me Díaz
Mary-Eliz
My mother never forgave my father
for killing himself,
especially at such an awkward time
and in a public park,
that spring
when I was waiting to be born.
She locked his name
in her deepest cabinet
and would not let him out,
though I could hear him thumping.
When I came down from the attic
with the pastel portrait in my hand
of a long-lipped stranger
with a brave moustache
and deep brown level eyes,
she ripped it into shreds
without a single word
and slapped me hard.
In my sixty-fourth year
I can feel my cheek
still burning
 Apr 2018 Me Díaz
Mary-Eliz
does my bipolarity
strange-sounding word

does it affect my poetry?

sometimes my poems
are
a bit absurd

one up and cheery
next solemn and dreary
one bouncy and bubbly
another quite ugly

That's just who I am
I'm up, then I'm down
can't help what I'm feeling
can't help a melt down

but I get back on track
a new day
a smile and sunshine
can bring me back

though on meds
to keep me in tow
I still have highs
I still have lows

we all do, I think
sometimes we're not the best "us"

sometimes we're just out of sync
...or maybe the other way round
the world's out of sync
with us
 Apr 2018 Me Díaz
Mary-Eliz
Full

again
the moon
perched
atop
a darkened
plank of cloud
floating
in iridescent
river of sky

again
the moon
pregnant
with
the sun’s
light
round full
lake of fervor

again
the moon
opalescent
in
the stars’
glimmer
silver frosted
ocean of ecstasy

again

                        the moon...
A rerun of a poem from last April - though renamed.

April’s Full Moon, the Full Pink Moon, heralds the appearance of the “moss pink,” or wild ground phlox—one of the first spring flowers. It is also known as the Sprouting Grass Moon, the Egg Moon, and the Fish Moon.
These names were not invented by The Old Farmer’s Almanac. They were used by early Colonial Americans—who learned the names from the local Native Americans; time was not recorded by using the months of the Julian or Gregorian calendar. Many tribes kept track of time by observing the seasons and lunar months, although there was much variability. The name itself usually described some activity that occurred during that time in their location.
Trance state and calling
Why I pain my own flesh
Why I excruciate each thought.
Who am I reacting to but myself
Do you want to give me my release
Or am I just here for you.
Some days I feel hung
Others not so
And then in that
I taste selfish on my tongue
Can I realize my pain for what it is?
In all
the truth is still breathing
down my throat.
And out.
It's In your atmosphere
That I love so brightly.
 Apr 2018 Me Díaz
Mary-Eliz
In the darkness of winter
find the light
inside your soul

offer it to those you meet

In the coldness of winter
find the warmth
in your heart

offer it to those you meet

for when you give
your light
and
warmth

you receive them
back
like a flame's
reflection on the window

In the bleakness of winter
find time
for yourself
for introspection
for rest
for renewal

a time
for inactivity

to see
the quietude
of nature

draw that calm
into yourself

Find joy
in simple things
a cup of tea
a crisp **** apple
warm wool socks

Curl up
by a cozy fire
to read
to plan
to dream

Take with you
a seed catalog
to hearten

a craft book
to inspire

a book of poetry
to find tranquility

When you've rested

Let your mind
create a space
of fertile ground
to later sow

Let your mind's hands
dip into the loam

smell its mellow
richness

Close your eyes

Let your mind
grow
whatever it is
you wish to cultivate

see its bright green
shoots

let them fill
your mind
with
freshness

Rejoice
in the anticipation
of spring!
Out of season for some, but  the Southern Hemisphere is coming to this phase of the year and the Northern Hemisphere's winter held on a long time this year...so maybe not so much! :-)
 Apr 2018 Me Díaz
Lawrence Hall
For the CBC Anchormen’s Quintet

Take the keys (of C and G), call a cab
Take the ‘phone from the moaning baritone
Bury their sheet music beneath a slab
And chase from the bass the inverted cone

Hot coffee to purge demons a capella
With fervent prayers to our merciful Lord
Please save each and every harmonic fella
And free them from the ringing chord

Oh, call a priest, call a mom, call a cop
Because friends don’t let friends sing barbershop!
 Apr 2018 Me Díaz
Nishu Mathur
She's wrapped herself on the wall
With her fragrant pink flowers
In bunches of disheveled disarray

And when the summer wind blows
It sends a gentle floral shower
Of blossoms and scents my way

At night, under the moon and stars
I inhale her. With her I love to be
And though I dally and play with words
There can never be a poem as she.
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