the wanna be mama

the wanna be mama
crowned herself a queen
a queen that fools the new
that do not know
they sit on the edge
expected to bow
playing a piece-less game
of vanity for name
dangled false charms
continue to fool
the mass in hopes
to join the cool
hidden behind a facade
an artificial cool
the truth mopes
to abide a fool
cornered false praise
tricks the naive
continuing to deceive
in reality a clique
visible to some
hiding in shadows
threatened by fear
afraid to disappear
outcasted they hear
beware of the wrath
the wanna be mama
the queen of the clique
rising beyond
highness of false esteem
among a talented few
believing they gain
trapped they become
stuck in their domain
posse to the queen
friends of clique or foe
a sad low
changing tasks
revealing masks
the queen of the clique
will never let them go
until they show
they know
shes really a foe.

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Huh?

Stick to the plan, Stan.

No. Stay flexible, man.

So, what do you want?

Captured by Scent

For Magpie prompt

I changed it to b/w, it fits the poem better.  🙂

Their first Moondance

for Monday Potluck (video & poem prompt)

Come hither…..

Come and Compete
at the
Masquerade of Balls

You may think you will win
The chances are thin
The Joker is here
A court puppeteer

Competing with the final nine
Bulging tights and red wine
He says he will win
A problem knows his twin

Royals will judge the final pairs
Two get specialty of the Airs
The higher the bedder
The finer the rounder

The winner will have the honoralls
The highest of all balls!
Good Luck !

*2nd poem for Monday Potluck. lol! Don’t ask! I couldn’t resist!  🙂

Masquerade Ball

Come one! Come all!
To the Fairies Eve
Masquerade Ball!

Circle around! Enter Here!
Grab a mask of delight
Make sure it’s on just right

Find a seat! Now, don’t be shy!
Dews of rainbows cold & sweet
Wings aflutter with the beat!

Strums of chords of Blue alight!
Poppy seeds and cattail reeds
There stands Joker by the weeds!

Masks of shadows vines of color!
Gowns of petals swirl wonders
With the thought of his blunders!

Night is moving all to fast!
Bits of web and honey comb
Laughter with a friendly gnome!

Beauteous Lunar circles one last hall
Announcing the end
Of this years Ball!

Come again! Until next years call!
To the Fairies Eve
Masquerade Ball!

*For the very first Monday Potluck!

Tea with Fuller and a Few More *revised

thanks to Google images

Wouldn’t it be something
to be at a
Transcendentalism meeting
back in the day with
Thoreau
Whitman
Fuller
Oh…
that would be amazing.

I would fit right in
challenging conventional thought,
challenging each other to
think outside the box
write even better.

I can see it now…
My arms flaring,
eyes glowing,
thoughts pouring,
passion uttered
with every word.

That is when I got a word in
with all those philosophical minds.

Protesting 19th Century
Culture and Society.
Resisting conformity from
Unitarian Doctrines,
Harvard Intellectuals.
Writing and debating for
Freedoms of thought,
Religion, and person.

I would be friends with
Margaret Fuller.
Two women
among a few more
in a group of men.
Intelligent,
Strong
Women.
Feminists
voicing their thoughts,
their opinions
for the centuries of women
that were hushed
and would be for
generations
and still are.

All of them at the table
living way before their times.
The strength,
the perseverance
it took for them to continue
opening the doors for
You and I.
People were laughing at them,
others shunning them,
a few applauding.
While, we will never know
how many hid away
with their writings.

I would love to tell them
their writings are studied today,
praised for the thought and work.
I would love to tell them
they were a part of change,
Inspirational to many,
Revolutionary to thought.

I need to tell them
The truth about Indians.
Culturally
Religiously
Persecuted!
Misunderstood and
unjustly Romanticized
their time through my time.

It would be something
to go back in time
and have tea with
Thoreau
Whitman
Fuller
All the members of the
Transcendental Club.

It would be something,
Unforgettable!
Even if I could only tell them
Thank You!

©River 6/2010

WAU_tab(‘t34ocuyal0ra’, ‘left-middle’)

echoes

I feel the beat of the drum through my moccasins
and hear the song of the people in my heart
as we enter into the circle
in a dance of movements, beats, and song
filled with appreciation and respect
of culture and belief
we celebrate
Miigwech!

The 23rd piece for my column Rivers Ruminations came out today. It is the last piece in a powwow series I have done over the summer.   Vital pieces to Powwows: Dancers of Past & Present There are lots of pictures and links.

Drip, Drip, Drip -a Magpie prompt

Drip, Drip, Drip

She submerges in the warm bubbly water

not allowing the annoyance of the drip

to sink in and add

to her overabundant irritability.

The reason she was drove to this bathtub with bubbles

behind a locked door.

She surfaces to hear the cries of her youngest,

“Mom”  yells the oldest.

She dives back under imaging a bliss of quite,

holding her breathe for as long as she can.

The water thins as the rattle of the door gets louder.

She glances at her toes peeking out and smiles

as she climbs out she can’t help thinking through the noise,

At least my toes look awesome.

Pineapple Quest

A chimpanzee dressed in silk
Zeros in on a pineapple
He stands on a pot and watches
In a blink of an eye
Honking cars and baked streets
Turn to dry plants and a deep lake
A summer stream stands in-between
Him and the pineapple
He pulls out a hose to swing across
As a wind is blown to guide him along
He lands with a moisten to his lips
next to his pineapple quest.

This poem is for the weekly prompt put on by Big Tent Poetry. This week it is a wordle