not-quite Journaling, 10
“The Call of Cthu-aloe”
3/28/2021: Because every garden and sci-fi nerd needs a giggle.
After
the
last
gale,
I believe
the
wind’s all hungry
teeth.
3/28/2021, too: New York’s latest gale(y) mood did a number on my garden, and we’re expecting more of the same. I’ve done some damage control and some relocating. Still, I always get nervous when Nature is in a mood and my wee garden has tender shoots.
in
balance,
old clouds
and new lights
fill
my sky
3/31/2021: I try to keep from looking up too often while I’m walking certain sidewalks (mostly because NYC pigeons tend to have a stinky splashy sense of humor). But I’m glad I dared a glance towards the sky during this particular walk. I really love how the clouds adorn the sky and the lights (the big one and the baby one) seem to be watching over the trees.
I soar
in the dark.
3/30/2021: For me, this is true in life and in writing. In life, I find that I shine brightest when living gets darkest. In writing… To continue reading, click HERE.
Thirty-one
plus
thirteen—
just
another birthday;
or,
when I blossom
anew.
4/5/2021: The sun is bright and deliciously warm, in celebration (I am sure) of my 31+13 springs. To continue reading (and for more pics of me and an abandoned house), click HERE.
You
should dance when I die,
because
you knew me well
and
you still loved me.
You will
not kill flowers
to
celebrate my life (remember
cut
flowers squeezed my heart),
but
bring potted daisies and sweet Williams
(gentle
pinks and wild reds) to enliven the place.
9/9/2021: I’m not dying (just yet). These are 2 stanzas from a
poem I’ve been rewriting for years—full poem HERE—I figured that since I might not be able to attend my own
funeral *cough*, I could at least take my last breath knowing others knew my
wishes. So, if any well-meaning person tries to make my funeral into something
I wouldn’t care for (and my infuriated ghost couldn’t haunt them), then
they’d be haunted by the accusing eyes of everyone who has read this. Yep, I’m
a terrible woman! 😁
-
for Poets and Storytellers United-- Writers’ Pantry #65: The Complexities of Gender Identity in Writing.
A wonderful walk – or dance – through your life with you. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome, Rosemary.
DeleteAnd thank you for walking with me.
DeleteHappy birthday, Magaly! I love your "dance when I die" poem. But Cthu-aloe -- GROAN!
ReplyDeleteThank you! And I totally knew this Cthu-aloe would evoke a GROAN or 3. Bwahahaha!
DeleteContinue to love life and write the way you do Magaly. You are a positive, wise and beautiful woman.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Robin. I shall.
DeleteHappy Birthday Magaly😊 I enjoyed your dance when I die poem and wish I had written it
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Namratha. I hope you write your own one day. And if you do, I suspect it will be wonderful.
DeleteAs always, I love the images you shared in this post and the title grabbed my attention, especially with the news of the Prince Philip’s death and the preparations for his funeral next week. I am especially drawn to your aloe photo, as I have a rather large aloe vera, almost twenty years old, of which I am very proud, and the hungry teeth of the wind sound scary – I’m so sorry it did a number on your garden. The extract from your poem really touched me, especially:
ReplyDelete‘You will not kill flowers
to celebrate my life (remember
cut flowers squeezed my heart),
but bring potted daisies and sweet Williams’,
very English flowers. :)
The garden is now recovered. So no (much) harm done. I had no idea sweet Williams were very English--I might have to start telling people that I have an English flower living in my balcony, lol!
DeleteHappy birthday Magaly You are still so young so I wouldn't be able to dance when you die lol. Love the poem though and also love that first poem about the winds hungry teeth Fantastic
ReplyDeleteSeeing the young die is always more difficult, I think...
DeleteLove the Math you made me do. It's like exercising subtraction to find the age on headstones. Noted, Magaly. Potted it is. I can't promise you a dance (with these two left feet of mine), but would give those who bring you cut flowers the stare. :D I imagine you shining the brightest when living is darkest. It's beautiful.
ReplyDeleteAnd I shall smile at you giving them the stare!
DeleteBrilliant energising stuff Magaly. I especially liked: "the wind's all hungry teeth" and: "I soar in the dark..."
ReplyDeleteThank you, Scott.
DeleteLuv the giggle of your Cthulhu aloe
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday
much love...
Thank you.
DeleteYou almost make me want to run out and buy an aloe plant so I can call it Cthul-aloe 2 (and then sing show tunes to it at feeding time). I hope the wind plays more nicely with your babies and that there will be lots of dancing when the time comes (far, far away from now, because I'm not ready to lose another spirit sister yet. I'm selfish like that).
ReplyDeleteDo it!
DeleteThe wind was a bastard, but we only lost one plant. So, I guess, we'll survive. And don't worry about the rest, I'm not planning to put your dancing shoes to work just yet.
Many many happy returns on your 13+31. I find myself smiling at your sci-fi nerd aloe. I thought the same when I saw the picture before reading. It's very tentacled. I too am a dance when I die sort of spirit. Don't grieve, just celebrate.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Lori! And you should see the aloe now. I transplanted it a few weeks ago, and now the tentacles have spread. I love it!
DeleteAnd I'm all for "Don't grieve, just celebrate". Or, at least, if you must grieve sprinkle some celebration into the mix.
And I've been working on my funeral playlist (lots of Mark Knopfler). I love your view and the journey you take us on. Gotta smile at that hungry wind, or at least be scared of it! Happy 31-13! I think 70 is a lot like 7 again!
ReplyDeleteMy funeral playlist is only 5 songs long as of today. Must add more Gloria Trevi. I like the idea of 70 being like 7. I really enjoyed driving everyone mad when I was 7!
Deletebut what if the wind really has teeth? hmm, i think i wrote about that once.
ReplyDeletei think those 2 stanzas are wonderful, but it's always okay to rewrite them if in the mood. :)
Now I'm picture wind that is all mouths full of teeth. What a picture. About rewriting/editing the poem, I usually do it when I need to delete or add something. Since I started writing it, some things grew less important and new ones took their place.
DeleteI journeyed thru a host of emotions beginning with a broad smile at the 'teeth marks' on the leaf. You have an amazing ability to dig deep into YOU which makes reading your poetry quite refreshing, no matter the subject. Happy Sunday to you and Piano Man.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Helen.
Deleteoh girl, I'm still thinking about dancing in red and black. And the pigeon....I have a friend who visited the seabird sanctuary where the unchained pelicans hung out for free food and he walked under one who was balancing on the high fence....well, you know.
ReplyDeleteBwahahaha! Your poor friend. I suspect pelicans have a lot more "you know" to give than pigeons.
DeleteI love how the wind's all hungry teeth.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
DeleteYou enhance the lives of all who know you, Magaly. I love your poem. It's been for me a week of goodbye to yet another long time friend, so the poem was timely.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Bev. I hope your friend's soul is at peace.
DeleteI'm glad to finally be getting around to wishing you a happy day, MG; and thanking you for this (and all the other) mind-blowing posts. Live it UP!
ReplyDeleteI'm glad to finally be saying you're welcome, lol!
DeleteBwahahahaha.....I love your funeral plans :D And I am certain my spirit will come to meet yours in order to see your wishes fulfilled. XXX
ReplyDeleteRight back at you!
DeleteI like the wind poem; we've had some toothy winds here lately too.
ReplyDeleteAnd I like the idea of living flowers for funerals. Plant them on the grave and see what lives, or scatter them around friends' yards as memorials. Let the person writing all those letters of thanks look at something to feel thankful for! (I am not so secretly glad it was illegal to give my mother what local people consider a "proper" funeral.)
Now I'm morbidly curious about the story behind your mother's funeral. I hope to read it one day.
DeleteHappy Birthday Gorgeous!!! Your Dance when I Die poem is fantastic! I love it! What a great post!! Big Hugs!
ReplyDeleteThank you, my sweetest Stacy!
Delete