CHALLENGE

The late summer night

has taken on a chill,

so the fog has been thick

of late. In this early ride

to work I cannot see a thing

except a blood red sun,

so tame I can look him

right in the eye and not blink.

Inside I chuckle at a secret.

On a silent corner

at the end of the road,

a stream splashes,

overhung with mossy trees

that fade back into the mist

and, right there in the gravel,

not a foot from the pavement,

is a fat, sassy daisy,

her petals shine out like a fist

in the face of Apollo to

break the dark.

Reviews

[Lorry]

I am always complaining about weather and can now see whtmy the world thinks brits are obsessed by it. It does kinda feel that everywhere else is having some kind of freak weather these days and I even heard tell that california had snow this year??? &?
But right now it is gorgeous here and I do miss having my daily moan, so I just have to amend my thinking and moan about not being able to moan about the weather 😊
Morning chills and fog are eerie as all hell and eerie is never a good start to the day, is it?
And your fat daisy in the gravel reminded me of when I used to hike more and do a bit of climbing and on a natural perch a few hundred feet up, my mind was blown with a small bright yellow flower clinging to life amongst the rock that felt like it was put there solely to brighten my day.
I love your last line, to break the dark. If you ever get asked what is poetry, just pick up a copy of this, let them read then slap it across their face for asking such a stupid question 😊

[Vol]

Lorry,
I'm having internet problems today, this is my third attempt...
Western civilization apparently depends on our obsession with the weather. It is all we talk about. I watch British TV almost exclusively and have noticed the constant rain you must live with... scenes with actors walking around in it seemingly unawares, driving around in cars with no windows (I had a '63 Austin Healy Sprite that I had to bolt them on) and coachmen in horrible, dangerous conditions sitting outside while passengers are dry within... I always pity them and wonder about the humanity of their "lords."

California did, in fact, receive over a hundred inches of snow in the mountains this year. It is melting as we speak and alleviating the long drought by flooding towns and farms and washing out roads.. California is a weird place full of weird people, and even stranger ideas. Nobody likes them.
I live in a semi-desert area in the Texas Panhandle... a little ghost town named Gouge Eye (history available on Google). We have not had measurable rain here since last autumn. Funny, though, I can watch major thunderstorms just to the north and south with about a mile of blue sky directly overhead. It is a strange phenomenon no one has been able to explain to me. I see a weather radar image of huge storms a hundred miles west headed right for me, but there is always a narrowing somewhere along the line and I know from experience, by the time it gets to me, it will split and rain everywhere but here. The few gangly trees out back must have roots a hundred feet deep! Oh, and it was 80 degrees F two days ago, and forty today. i think that is why my eyes are always crossed.

Those surprising bits of life are always welcome. On some of the rocky tors in Tennessee, I have seen the upright carcasses of trees six inches in diameter that grew out of some small depression with just a few gallons of dirt... and a few feet away a delicate bit of purple flower living happily in someone's shade.

Finally, from much of what I see as "poetry " on this and other sites, I'd need something a lot tougher than a piece of paper. Unless it was wrapped around a brick.

[Lorry]

Ha! The glitches of writerscafe!
I think it is a genius programme that turns normally affable people into raging demons, turning even people who kneel in prayer when they say gosh, into rabid gibbering loons, where you think they have a terminal case of "Oh for f***S sakeness"
As to california being weird, someone once sent me a book called "weird California" and I loved it. People who live in houses made of bottles and the world's largest collection of wind chimes amongst the many delights.
I ended up going to see it for myself and have loved every minute of it. I think it is just crazy enough to be sane, where tolerance is part of life and people just allow people their quirks. We could certainly learn a lot from west coasters attitudes to others, minus the gang killings etc which aren't quite as tolerant, but more the acceptance that people can be nutter than squirrel s**t and be seen as just a bit eccentric.
I'm a big fan of old style diners and must have fell in love with at least a hundred waitresses while I was there. All they want is for me to talk Scottish to them, but they should all write books about the crazy stuff they put up with every shift.
One woman even told me that a normal looking guy, whatever they are, ever so politely emptied a clip into his laptop while waiting for his burger, then paid for the damage to a counter top and added a 20% tip, before bring carted away to the bouncy room with the wraparound jackets. Apparently he was on a call to his supervisor and thought it best just to shoot him online that to do it at work.
That to me is genius and he should be released immediately 😊
Sorry to hear of your glitches, but the best way to look at it is that it is a mark of honour to be accepted into the wc community (I bet its a california company!) 😊

[Ken Simm.]

Visual on visual but subtle and engaging. I like this one. A lot.

[DIVYA]

I loved the vivid scenery here. That you took in all that beauty on your early ride to work. The tame sun that one could look in the eye, the splashing stream and the mossy trees fading into the mist. But you saved the best for the last. The fat, sassy daisy, shining away in defiance, anomalous perhaps yet so beautiful in her unwillingness to be subdued. I must try to emulate her. Great poem!

[Vol]

Divya...You are a hammer hitting the nail on the head. On my motorcycle, being IN the environment , feeling the moist air on my face, smelling the horses, hearing the water over the motor, watching the rustling leaves, the vibration of the bike, taken together, awakens the senses, if not a degree of actual sensuality.

[DIVYA]

So truly appreciated and here's another takeaway from this poem. To take in the marvels around us, feel the air, breathe it in and be so grateful for all of it while we can, before we become dead to all of it.

[Vol]

It is my constant goal to not die until I stop breathing....

[jacob erin-cilberto]

secrets are exposed with daylight...but the nighttime...that is when we confer with our darkest secrets...break them open like a safe...and live till morning with the consequences.
j.

[Vol]

Hahaha... Quite true, but some of my sweetest secrets arrive at night...