|Part of an exclusive series of hand-painted hen eggs by me of my own designs that are only 2 1/2" tall.|
Yellow Silk (Soie Jaune)Yellow Silk (Soie Jaune) by Jade-Pandora
I wore a yellow dress my first night in
the social whirl of the City of Light.
J'ai porté une robe jaune pour ma première nuit dans
le tourbillon social de la Ville Lumière.
To shine where love's one night stand would see me
because I was too naive to notice.
Briller une nuit là où l’amour me verrait
car j'étais trop naïve pour le remarquer.
I walked in satin pumps with heels so high
my ankles shivered even though
the evening was warm, and I had no wrap.
J'ai marché dans des souliers de satin avec de si hauts talons
mes chevilles ont frissonné même si
la soirée était chaude, je n'avais pas de châle.
I wore my bare shoulders like epaulettes,
and my long hair piled high off my swan's neck.
Je portais mes épaules nues comme des épaulettes,
et un chignon de cheveux longs détaché de mon cou de cygne.
The evening so elegant and haughty.
Inviting intrigue around every corner
Morning StarMorning Star by Jade-Pandora
Her great-great grandmother was the first,
An original of the Nation, of
Her people, of her village in her youth.
The men were ever awed of this girl child,
Whose mother was proud, and whacked the backsides
Often and hard with a hickory switch,
Of man and boy, no matter what their name
Be it Dog, or Bear, or something more rare
Like Hunts Plenty, or Runs Down Enemy.
Nothing came close to the Chief's daughter's name
That came to everyone's voice with the dawn.
And as a young woman, her stride across
The camp in leggings fringed while going through
The pony herd to bathe, and well aware
Of those who would hide in wait, to watch the
Second coming of the sun: her brilliance.
It was she, Morning Star, who flung forth dew
With both hands and arms across prairie grass
Lifting the sun as she cast out the rays
Pompeii WinterPompeii Winter by Jade-Pandora
Sounds of my frantic sandal'd footsteps
on the flat-stone and gravel road with
each lunge of my linen-clad body,
in agony from efforts and gasps.
This citizen's grown fat from the wine;
a bottle a day, respectably,
and out of shape for this sort of clime.
My slave's in Herculaneum by now.
The fumes are sucked deep into my lungs,
(an artisan's bellows of his craft,
who's hands shaped clay for the kiln's fire)
as sky blackens day in its nightmare.
While those of us who still can, jostle
like jockeys, racing closer towards the
horseshoe bay's shoreline where boats await.
While overhead, the solemn silent
silt of ash floating down, white as snow.
Images of all I've known become
smothered into just what I know now.
Activities of a day ago
are greying over with blizzard ash:
My world of frescos & friezes and
tiles in mosaics of elegant
seascapes & landscapes, erotica,
of naked couples in their orgies.
Pultritude, and bacchanalia,
and of gods & goddesses whose stance,
statuesque, encircle the
UmbilicalThe cousins of our home, the treesUmbilical by Jade-Pandora
Have man to thank upon their knees
For over time destroying all
That trees were guarding from the fall.
Of how they kept the history
From turning into mystery
Within the rings their bodies stored,
The loss of which we can't afford.
Despite the treasure trove of trees,
The high rise place for birds & bees,
The gentle giants' ev'ry breath
Gives humans life instead of death.
But human kind since biblical
Have long cut the umbilical.
For idol gods & sacrifice
Man laid them waste for war & vice.
Though often living side by side
While giving food & rest abide,
So few would heed their company.
Instead gave in to gluttony.
So where has wanton gotten us:
Less need, less greed, superfluous?
And always poets write of loss,
Of lonely lives that pay the cost.
Well weren't we preciousLawd, that boy had a set on him,Well weren't we precious by Jade-Pandora
Eatin' corn through a picket fence
If he had half a mind to try.
Followin' the breeze of my skirt,
He watched me sidle up the steps,
And come close to seein' Christmas.
He'd mutter underneath his breath,
"I'd run with the big dawgs for you."
And ev'er time I'd let him near,
That's just exactly what he'd do
When it'd come time to kissin' me.
Each time, be dissin' family.
And that's the way it was with us.
It wasn't clear just who knew what,
But ev'er cousin and their blood
Was bound to cross the line just once.
Well-meaning, interfering folk
Was always pullin' us aside,
"No right to carry on that way
And get the short end o' the stick!"
"Now hold your horses, shug, come 'ere."
He rode me hard 'n finished wet.
"You playin' possum?", "Reckon so."
We slept like dead pigs in the sun.
Rain always puts me to sleepIn the middle of night before,Rain always puts me to sleep by Jade-Pandora
I awoke to the sound of rain
In what seemed like a sated roar
Of their deep voices, of their stain.
'Twas a dream in my half-aware,
I questioned its validity.
Then dozed off like it wasn't there,
This weather-beaten mystery.
Then yesterday passed like my thoughts,
Adrift, clouds hid daylight away.
I watched local news as I ought,
Then fell back to sleep where I lay.
The afternoon walked in on me
And claimed "It's been raining, y'know."
I vaguely looked around to see,
And murmured "I want you to go."
The day turned away as it sighed,
Went gray, fading into the wall.
I knew it had made up a lie,
But now hoped for raindrops to fall.
deep throatA most tasty dishdeep throat by Jade-Pandora
sans soup of the day
no vegans invited
they'd get in the way
you won't want to share
and neither will I
a handful of you
and boy I won't lie...
deep throat'd kisses
and slow motion dancing,
the soft warm embraces
of sleep-in romancing,
bed clothes kicked off
and shades pulled down low
from one who would covet
a glance at my lover
who's full moon is rising
I just now discover.
bridgejealous of time because of you-bridge by Jade-Pandora
trying to make a difference
even when the options were clear
I would fail in my rut
each time I plummet the depths
where the force serrated through me
in sequences of throbbing gut
sending forth pulsating rings
that leave millennial stains
on my ribcage, to elongate
bridging the loneliness
with only more loneliness,
staying too long if I wait
but what do I mean "if"?
Dancing at SamhainDancing at SamhainDancing at Samhain by skycladarts
wet wind dashes moisture
through my tangled hair
as copper leaves dance around my feet
muddied and bare
as my body
as I whirl amongst the ancient stones
in a spiral of life and death
joining with the souls that share the night
whilst the flames hiss their displeasure
at the falling rain
and join their voice with others
rustling through the branches as they struggle
to hold onto their final covering
Samhain... Samhain... Samhain
Late November on a Saturday NightLast time I said I would highlight some people here on dA. Here they are:Late November on a Saturday Night by PoetsHand
:iconshining-scribe: is someone to go see. I like this one.
:iconazuline-furcula: can do things with words I can only dream of doing.
:icon4maya: does this wonderful art, and she even writes. This newest one I really like!
:iconpatchesandthepen: deserves more exposure here on dA. Go look at her page!
:iconjade-pandora: is one of the very best writers here on dA.
:iconrebel-brat: does so much with words, it's voodoo.
If I haven't gotten to you yet, don't despair. There will be other journals.
Now, as someone told me, I have to go for a drive.
Until next time,
DFC 2016 is here!DFC 2016 is here! by kiwi-damnation
DEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEF! SEEEEEEEE!
DFC (The December Form Challenge) 2016
Hi everyone, I hope you're all doing well. I can hardly believe that it's this time of year again, it feels like yesterday was May and I was looking at the rest of the year with wonder and promise. There are now only a few weeks left of 2016, most of them will be crazy with family gatherings and holiday preparations. I hope that you can also join me for DFC as it is here again, and promises to be better than ever.
Before I get too excited, I am sure there are some n00bs to DFC this year who will grace this page. For them, I present you with a brief History and explanation of DFC....
History of DFC (The December Form Challenge)
DFC (December Form Challenge) was created in 2008 as a way for me (kiwi-damnation) to get out of a literary rut. I was writing the same things with slightly different words and it had me feeling crappy. So i
If you write, please read this. [CLOSED/UPDATED]If you write, please read this. [CLOSED/UPDATED] by Serendiipitii
Thank you so much to all who have signed up for this! I can't tell you how excited I am to be able to work with you! I'm preparing a Google Document for us to communicate and write on, since that will be the easiest way to do this with so many people and different time zones, etc.
I will be sending out a dA note shortly with the link- this will also have the instructions as to what we're doing as well. You are more than welcome to note me, or add me on Skype (if you have it), if you have any questions.
Thank you all again!
I'm not sending out notes, because there's a user limit on them, and I'll be here forever trying to remember who I've sent what to. I will post a separate journal with the link and tag you all in it that way.
Deadline is November 11th, @ 12 AM PST! If you even have the inkling that you'd like to try this, let us know and I'll put your name down!
Multhaiku Weekly 7Hey fellow haiku writers (haijin) and micropoetry enthusiasts, this is your weekly dose of Multhaiku related news. Dig in!Multhaiku Weekly 7 by Nichrysalis
Cats or dogs?
The weekly prompt is a word or phrase I will prompt our members with for their own use. Participation is not necessary or rewarded, only encouraged. This week's prompt is:
Honey and syrup
Got lit you're proud of and want others to see? Seen an awesome piece of poetry by a fellow deviant? Get lit! Post it in the comments and I will feature it in this section in the next journal, no matter the length! Features limited to one piece of literature per person for the first four people who comment.
No news to report this week.
If you're a member of Multhaiku and wa
"They tend to confirm one in one's own conceit -- unless they praise what you yourself don't like. Also, they make you self-conscious about your virtues -- just as when you praise a child for some natural charm. Also, they create an underground opposition: applause is the beginning of abuse. Also, they deprive you of your own anarchic liberties -- by electing you into the government. Also, they separate you from your devil, which hates being observed and only works happily incognito."
--from Ted Hughes to Anne Sexton, 1967
Hi, hon! As part of PoetryOD's Review Competition, I'm going to be reviewing you--as an artist--here in the comments!
"Jade-Pandora is a true haijin master with a flair for mixing the sensuality of an intimate relationship with the subtle romance of unbridled, untamed nature. The amount of imagery begot from just three lines is enough to keep readers enchanted. With a keen eye for detail and creative phrasing, Jade-Pandora's gallery is sure to keep you coming back for more!"
Actually, it was a prompt that I got to give him for my catching his 25,000 kiriban: "Don't wish the dead back to life.". It was a true challenge and the piece he wrote in response inspired me to give it a special spot all its own here on my page. Please enjoy, and visit neonxaos with some love.
SkyriseThe land is flaming,
a poem written for & given to me by my lovely friend literary-love ...
with the abandon
of a gypsy,
the golden bells
on your wrists
jingle and ring,
jingle and sing
a resounding hymn,
one that draws my feet
teaching me to dance
with the abandon
of a gypsy.