light twirl

Oh, and

I've made a few errors in the transcription, which I can't correct because you can only transcribe someone else's voice post once, I've discovered.  So if anyone else would like to tidy it up I'd appreciate it.
candles

Bookczuk

For those who are on Bookczuk's friends list, you'll probably have heard her voice post by now.
If you haven't, or if you're not on her list, I'll just let you know that two close members of her family are very much in need of prayers and vibes - whatever you can send.
I've created a candle group at Gratefulness.org for those who want to light a virtual candle for them.

Love being a writer

This be the verse...

The best of me is a bestiary

You say ‘beast’ like it’s a bad thing,
An epithet for screaming headlines:
“Beast Attacks Women”, “Cage These Beasts Now”.

But I celebrate the beast in me –
The best of me is a bestiary.

I celebrate the boneless cat-stretch, unashamed and sensual –
Stroke me right and I purr.

I celebrate the magpie lust for glitter
(Oooh, shiny!) –
I bring you pearls and crystals for your nest.

The best of me is a bestiary

I celebrate my inner squirrel
Hoarding provisions against a harsh winter.

I celebrate the butterfly flitting without clear direction,
Moving from brightness to brightness.

The best of me is a bestiary.

I celebrate my tiger fierceness –
Provoke me and my claws unsheathe.

I celebrate the sisterhood of the elephant -
A vast, slow loyalty.

The best of me is a bestiary.

I celebrate (often) the sloth.

I even celebrate the cockroach,
Stubborn, uncrushable.

The best of me is a bestiary.

And I celebrate the unicorn, the dragon, the chimaera,
The magical, the fantastical –
These beasts are in me too.
 
I celebrate
The phoenix rising from my own ashes.
butterfly

I have butterflies in my stomach

I am going to my first poetry open mic evening in about 7 hours.  I am intending (if my bottle doesn't go) to read a newly-written poem, plus an older one if I have time.
And I'm beginning to think "Why the **** did I say I'd do this?"

Confident performance vibes would be much appreciated.
bubbles2

The Queen of Beads and Bubble-blowing

The queen of beads and blowing bubbles
Stands in St Anne's Square sharing her shiny spheres;
In her jackets and jewels of purple splendour
She blows light airy bubbles that banish tears.

Yet I know fragments and elements of her life,
The findings that led only to pains and losses,
broken and lost beads,
The illnesses, the unkindnesses, the polluted bubbles,
Even betrayals and hatreds that she suffered.
Hatred isn't black, that's racist shite,
Black is sensuous, black gleams bright -
hatred is colourless, unimaginative, dull.
The thud of blunt clubs at a baby seal cull.

Yet she hasn't become dull and bitter, nor lost her glitter -
Has smiles for strangers, and carries spare bubble tubs
for any who want a go, to ease their troubles, their rubs.
When she was going to see Leonard Cohen
She took me; gave me a pocket goddess,
Made me a bracelet of sea-blue style success.

She has come through shining brightly
The queen of beads and bubble blowing
the bubbles like giggling schoolgirl gaggles
wherever they are going,
With laughing hope and loving beauty
By the stone spheres and war memorial
of St Anne's Square.


Cathy Bryant

Reproduced by kind permission of the delightful poet. Please visit her website :
http://cathybryant.co.uk (That Inking Feeling)
and leave lovely comments :)