Waltz Wishes in Front Porch Review

So far, January's poetry month for me. I had Sidewalk Chalk in Curio Poetry last week. Now glide into Waltz Wishes in Front Porch Review

Photo taken at the Nasher Sculpture Center.

Taproot - Poem

Toca hoy un interesante grupo de nu-metal de Michigan. Se trata de Taproot, que cuenta con canciones realmente buenas, como es ésta.
"Poem" es para mí su mejor composición que cuenta con un soberbio estribillo.
El grupo fue descubierto por el "personajillo" Fred Durst, a quien estos chicos le enviaran una Demo. Durst les ofreció grabar con la discográfica Interescope Records, pero tras muchas negociaciones, Taproot decidió firmar por la Atlantic Records, ya que ponían más dinero y mejores condiciones. Fueron apoyados por System of a Down, cosa que puso furioso al raperillo, haciendo que expulsaran a System del Family Values del 99.
Actualmente siguen intentando aumentar su popularidad a nivel internacional pero aún no han podido alcanzar un puesto de privilegio por el momento.
El vocalista Stephen Richards participó en el disco Reanimation de Linkin Park, acompañando en la voz a Chester Bennington en la canción "P5hng Me A*wy".

Taproot - Poem por AtlanticRecords

Pumpkin Parade

Mini-fake pumpkin patch in the front entrance brings me Halloween joy. I love October and have to contain myself before hauling Halloween decorations, mid-month, from the attic. As I was putting these posts into the ground I was pummeled by acorns dropping from our live oak trees. Aaahh, fall!

This October has been rainy and seemingly "cooler" than some previous Octobers. One never knows in Texas. Hence, the following poem is not truly applicable this year, but I'll share it anyway:

October Heat

October, burning leaves
it’s in my memory, inhale,
nose tingles
deep in my blood,
burnt leaf smoke oozes from my pores
airy wisps of ash encircle my head
seeps into my hair.
erie figures drifted in and out of the haze,
rakes in hand
swooshing crimson, orange, and yellow leaves

today, October in the South
air-conditioner whir kicks on at six
wheezes to a halt late evening.
dollars fly about the room
distilling humidity, cooling tepid air,
I sweat.

step on crunchy grass
wind chimes still
flags slacken, droopily oppressed
scurry back indoors
soul compresses

yearn for fire reds, golden, and deep oranges
brown, drab leaves herald fall this year.
it can’t be October.
pumpkins will explode in this heat,
melt into a pumpkin pie
not glow with Halloween candles.

I think I'll go eat some candy corn

Joanne

Different Views

My husband is off to Bronte, Texas where he enjoys time with one of his sons, with our brother-in-law, and other assorted family and friends. They are putting up a new deer blind this weekend in preparation for November's opening of deer hunt season. The pictures above are from his game cam -the 10/4 collection.

I grew up in a very non-hunt oriented family. This weekend, I'm reading, writing, and contemplating life in the comforts of my home. (No roughing it for me...ever!)

It's ironic that my father has larger deer roaming his neighborhood in PA and generally presenting a hazard on the roads up there. If nothing else, the contrasts in my life inspired the following poem.

Hunters’ Delight

deer wander suburbs
hoof prints embedded
poop piles on lawns
bucks could ring doorbells
like a Far Side cartoon

deer forced from wooded
protection by
developer buildings

the same men who lease land
sit in camouflage blinds
aimed to shoot deer that

meander backyard America

Joanne