Older and bolder

Artist: Patricia Ariel

 

As a teen she felt insecure, shamed
she simply wanted to hide away
felt undressed with eyes, defamed,
made her feel on public display;
passing construction sites
the worst of all transgression
feeling eyes taking wee bites
of her dignity, her self assertion.

And then she grew so much older
could finally saunter down a street
head up high and feeling bolder
no comments heard, indiscreet
suddenly she had become invisible,
walked in stores, not even noticeable
sales clerks gazed above her head
wishing to cater to a younger set
20 and 30 something adults instead.

travelling on busses and subways
she disappeared in so many ways
youths with their real smart phones
ears plugged, heeding their drones
mostly self-absorbed with conceit
rarely considering to give up their seat
she had become invisible…and yet
she saw the hunched backed person
mounting the steps with a cane,
a man struggling to breathe in vain,
a woman with child still in her belly
who could miss a thing of such beauty?
they too had all become invisible
how come she could still see these people?
offering her seat, was the only suitable
and proper thing to do…

Getting older gives her freedom
no longer fraught, not even a tussle.
by salespersons or deviant men
she walks anywhere without a hassle.

It can be trying in eateries
when waiters just ignore
older women frequently
assuming this group of females
will seldom produce a nice gratuity
ah yes, that rule may be unspoken
they cater more to men of all ages
presuming they will get a better token.

How very rude and pejorative
to hold on views so negative!
but as long as older women stay invisible
they may as well make their tips miniscule. {grins}

© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/03/01

A fun prompt at DversePoets, Poetics Invisibility  

Chasing sunsets

chasing sunsets Cheryl-Lynn March 1 2014
chasing sunsets
Cheryl-Lynn March 1 2014

chasing sunsets

Seize the moment tonight

Serenity at its best.

© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/02/28

Inspired too reach out (haibun)

We Drink Poetry Inspiration – Prompt #012 What Inspires You

This is not poetic in nature, and to call it a free verse is using the term loosely. However, I wanted to share where my writing all began at Alecoute-Ntouch, a site informing folks of workshops I was offering on life skills and professional and personal development. But then I got acquainted with WordPress and the world of blogging and discovered I had a lot to say too…

(haiku)

An idea simmers.
Words produce an awareness
conscious convictions.

Street Art Montreal Summer 2013
Street Art Montreal Summer 2013

I began writing to voice my thoughts
with Cher Shares, that was my first start,
voicing opinions, I sure did have a lot;
And then I was inspired by Herding Cats 
that’s when my vision shifted a tat
I got on my soap box hoping to make a dent
at Stigma Hurts Everyone I wanted to vent,
yell out to the world that which is important
to me, things just needed to be heard,
nothing exceptional because some
may even have a knack to say it better
but maybe if we shout out loudly together
our voices may be heard that much noisier.
And then Cher Shares became a comfort zone
to write a story here, there, or even a poem
And, that’s the tale of how it all started
my story of a humble love affair
of words that I write from the heart
of passion, love and sometimes conviction
that’s why I blog, where I got my inspiration.

© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/02/25

Never give up (haiku)

Part of a puzzle
one big piece that does not fit
That just might be me

Darkness colours grey
oceans swallow fowl beliefs
sea of lost riddles.

despair clouds the mind
shift in attitude restores.
Equilibrium.

By no means give up
tomorrow’s another day
faith, hope… reliance

© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/02/24

The Problem With Little White Girls (and Boys): Why I Stopped Being a Voluntourist

Food for thought. In an age where we need to use all our resources sparingly and “smartly”…here is an honest account on what helps and what does not help. Those who volunteer know that it feels good to give…but it is not about you or me…is it now? It is about helping where you can truly make a difference and not soothe egos or boost our self-esteem (although that will happen anyways when you are giving from the heart…really!) Have a look-see here…this writer tells it as it is…for real! Cheryl-Lynn

philippabiddle's avatarPippa Biddle

White people aren’t told that the color of their skin is a problem very often. We sail through police check points, don’t garner sideways glances in affluent neighborhoods, and are generally understood to be predispositioned for success based on a physical characteristic (the color of our skin) we have little control over beyond sunscreen and tanning oil.

After six years of working in and traveling through a number of different countries where white people are in the numerical minority, I’ve come to realize that there is one place being white is not only a hindrance, but negative –  most of the developing world.

Removing rocks from buckets of beans in Tanzania. Removing rocks from buckets of beans in Tanzania.

In high school, I travelled to Tanzania as part of a school trip. There were 14 white girls, 1 black girl who, to her frustration, was called white by almost everyone we met in Tanzania, and a few teachers/chaperones…

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Unwelcome guest (haibun)

Photo Credits

Today is a rest day. Take care of me day.  Resting until mid afternoon in a reclining position on my pillow top mattress….ahhh! my back seemed to be behaving much better.  You see too much work, not enough sleep, rest, me time  does impact on your body too.

I started washing a few items in the kitchen sink and my mind started turning the wheels of thought and process.  I like to call this “meditating”.   I decided to take a few items out of my dishwasher…ended up taking every item and washing by hand in the tub…still thinking. I also felt good that I had saved on water and the environment by NOT wasting water and hot water by using my dishwasher this week.

My mind kept moving along on  “play” I had to find something more to do.  I call this the Mary Tyler Moore Syndrome. For older folks, you may remember when she was upset or had something to process in her mind, she would clean up her apartment. Well, I have no intention of doing any majour cleaning but I find doing it in little increments, it soothes the soul. You know, like cleaning out a closet, helps to sort things out in your mind…look at something, chuck it in the trash if it has served its purpose and set aside if there is some more sorting and “processing” to do.

I actually use that analogy a lot when counselling youths.  Counselling is a lot like cleaning out your closet. I usually take everything out and make three piles. One to give a way (it can be a learning experience you are ready to give away…process with your counsellor, then move on) , one to throw away (you look at it, talk about it and put it behind you, no longer serves any purpose…actually weighs you down) and one to sort (may not be ready to look at, talk about yet…) and put back neatly in the closet..

So I decided to clean out a corner cupboard near the sink.  It is one that is deep and difficult to get at things…so I put things in the deep part that I don`t need much and in the front part I have my rice and box of cereal.

Rewind a bit:  Bette, my loyal feline bff has been sitting near that cupboard door for quite some time. I thought perhaps there was a mouse and had checked it out before the holidays…nope, no mouse there.  Then I checked to see if there were any insects…nope…all good there.  But it is always very cold there…it is connected to my neighbor who is rarely home…in Europe somewhere but there is a buddy that stays over now and then. So basically it is not heated much and I suppose not checked out much…yep you got it, a safe haven for vermin during our cold winter months.

I decide to empty everything…I notice little calling cards…yep, you got it but do not see any owner. All is emptied and nothing…so I figured the culprit came in through the hole in the wall (around the pipes) that leads to my neighbours and went back to that huge haven of free space.  I start washing with disinfectant…then checking my box of cereal that I have never opened yet…I notice a hole in the box and I see/hear movement…OMG…little furry mini grey critter…dear me…Bette was right all along…I will never EVER second guess her.  She is the master of this house {really apartment but it sounds better}.

So much for disrupting my meditation…finished cleaning and started blogging…my mind had no more clutter for some reason…my muse revisited and stayed a while, perhaps to comfort me after my heart kept racing… {sigh}

(Haiku)

Heard pitter patter

unwelcome guest scurried fast

A mouse in my house!!!

© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/02/12

Do you see what I feel?

PE.Harrell-Sanders_DoYouSee

Do You See What I Feel by Dana Harrell-Sanders

When I talked about you last night

it was just to write a verse.

It was fiction. No big deal! alright?

 

Why the constant striking

must there be so much throbbing

with such vengeance my way?

I was only kidding yesterday.

 

I didn’t mean anything by the poetry.

Please remove the heavy artillery!

Lower the mega equipment

Please take out the iron fists

that push, pound and torment,

beating incessantly

invoking indignation

imposing impatiently

seeking retribution

but for what?!

 

Have some compassion

let’s call it a truce

give me a meagre portion

of amnesty

please believe

I’ll never complain…

grant me some reprieve

to relieve this pain.

cease this unremitting beating

nonstop on this poor form of ail

it hurts just to breathe

I wince when I inhale

my plea is humble and pure

Please, please, JUST stop!

© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/02/10

Carpe Diem #393, Kumadaniji (Temple 8)

A lovely history of bodhisattva of compassion and 2 touching poems (haiku and tanka)

Georgia's avatarBastet and Sekhmet's Library

Logo CD February

I usually don’t copy but link to the Carpe Diem stories which inspire the haiku I write for this blog, but this one particularly interested me because recently I happened to speak to a good friend of mine of the bodhisattva of compassion.

“Guanyin or Senju Kannon in Japanese is the bodhisattva associated with compassion as venerated by East Asian Buddhists, usually as a female. The name Guanyin is short for Guanshiyin, which means “Observing the Sounds (or Cries) of the World”. She is also sometimes referred to as Guanyin. Some Buddhists believe that when one of their adherents departs from this world, they are placed by Guanyin in the heart of a lotus, and then sent to the western pure land of Sukhāvatī.”

Haiku

compassionate heart
listening – understanding
stopping the stigma

Tanka

along your pathway
where to turn in troubled times
she is waiting there
a calm compassionate…

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Chocolate Cream Cups : Friday Night Party! Do you want to join the wagon?

I love this blog soooooooo much. She not only gives recipes, she makes it “dummy proof” with the photos to make sure we can actually succeed!! Love love love her blog…check it out and her photography as well!!

Slumber’s Guest

Angels-13

Can’t wait to get to sleep
dream, dream and unwind
this time when I wake up
will look forward, try to find
in the middle of the night
I won’t reach for my phone
checking time left for rest
rather write down a few words
try recalling at my best
conjure up from my dreams
slumber’s much delightful guest,
stories telling what I deem
excellent stories…fantasies
just amazing tales to keep
every night in my sleep…

Yep, can’t wait to slip away
and see the stories unfold
all night long imagining
stories needing to be told.

I adore some of my dreams
love to wander, float away…
on a dreamlike getaway
like a nomad that will stray
journeys most internally
learning more just how …to be,
letting go finally
finding space to just… BE.

© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/01/31