The pomegranate incense is gone yet the smell of the smoke lingers
Filling my nose with its scent
I used the last stick yesterday
And am sick with desire to smell that pungent fruit
Sinking into my veins
Like a good fix on life
The deep red burgundy of the berries merges with my blood
The pomegranate incense of my life remains
Like seeds once picked over by crows
Dry and humble they lie
Renewed by life’s rain
Each seed leaves behind a bright red stain
There’s no shortage of pomegranate seeds
When pomegranate season comes
I’ll devour them greedily
The taste of the red berry remains sweet &sticky on my tongue
I long for my pomegranate incense
The last stick burned yesterday
I’m sick with desire to smell that pungent fruit again
Its ephemeral scent lost in my garden of yesteryears
I search for yesterdays scent lost in today’s patchouli mist
Monday, July 21, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Quotes from Joy
©
Peace the Planet
POWER THE MOHAVE DESERT WITH MILES AND MILES OF SOLAR PANELS
ENOUGH TO RUN THE ENTIRE PLANET ON SOLAR ENERGY
BEAUTY IS NOTHING BUT A BACKDROP FOR THE BLUES
BURY ME GREEN PLEASE
MY CONSTANT ACHE, I AIN'T AS PRETTY AS I USED TO BE...
Peace the Planet
POWER THE MOHAVE DESERT WITH MILES AND MILES OF SOLAR PANELS
ENOUGH TO RUN THE ENTIRE PLANET ON SOLAR ENERGY
BEAUTY IS NOTHING BUT A BACKDROP FOR THE BLUES
BURY ME GREEN PLEASE
MY CONSTANT ACHE, I AIN'T AS PRETTY AS I USED TO BE...
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
newly retired & celebrating being a life coach
I just retired and am so pleased about it. Now I have time to watch tv all day if I wanted to but that's not for me. I'd rather watch the sky or listen to the rain. Actually I'm very busy with the process of redoing my entire kitchen. I already put down terra-cotta colored porcelain floors and now I'm putting in new wooden cabinets. It will be much more pleasant when it's done.
I'm also now listed as a practitioner with the Flower Essence Society and as an LCSW with NYS Licensing with the 6-year R psychotherapy privilege - I'm ready to do some life coaching. I will provide services based on a sliding scale, payable through pay pal and can consult online or by phone if preferred.
Please check out my new page and newly launched webiste.
I'm also now listed as a practitioner with the Flower Essence Society and as an LCSW with NYS Licensing with the 6-year R psychotherapy privilege - I'm ready to do some life coaching. I will provide services based on a sliding scale, payable through pay pal and can consult online or by phone if preferred.
Please check out my new page and newly launched webiste.
Monday, June 04, 2007
NEW WEBSITE LAUNCHED, Poetry & Prose by Joy Leftow
I've launched a new website with a more together and professional look - please check it out.
It's google's webpages which are free to do.
Please check it out and let me know how you like it.
It's google's webpages which are free to do.
Please check it out and let me know how you like it.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Family History Deja vu
If Mommy only knew all that occurred,
She would turn over in her grave.
She’d question and explore the said misdeed
to figure why anyone would behave
that way to their sibling, their own blood,
their family. It would cause Mom great pain,
release memories, an entire flood
of them reminding her of the campaign
her family led against her when they
declared her dead, and sat Shiva for her
forsaking her, long before the day
when she lay in the funeral parlor
dead, having been ravaged by the cancer
which destroyed and took her away.
Then - her family came to see her.
They should have been ashamed to come that day.
Her family disowned her when she married Dad
who, although he was Jewish too, had been married
before with a son, then divorced. Her family had
no tolerance of this, being orthodox, and such
... thus they, considered her Dead!
My mother suffered so much from her illness
and trying to raise us four children.
She did the best she could under her duress.
She’d wonder what could make this occur again.
that now, I, the youngest am forsaken
by two of my sisters, one who just passed on
ravaged too, by the cancer that has overtaken
and polluted my family’s gene pool,
... oh sorrows, please be gone
I am the lone survivor, who, as of yet
have not fallen prey to the horrific scourge
I live under the fear and the threat
of cancerous death and pray to emerge
safely through the onslaught and expulsion
from family that my mother lived through
and wonder why all this must be redone
and why, even dialogue on this, is taboo.
She would turn over in her grave.
She’d question and explore the said misdeed
to figure why anyone would behave
that way to their sibling, their own blood,
their family. It would cause Mom great pain,
release memories, an entire flood
of them reminding her of the campaign
her family led against her when they
declared her dead, and sat Shiva for her
forsaking her, long before the day
when she lay in the funeral parlor
dead, having been ravaged by the cancer
which destroyed and took her away.
Then - her family came to see her.
They should have been ashamed to come that day.
Her family disowned her when she married Dad
who, although he was Jewish too, had been married
before with a son, then divorced. Her family had
no tolerance of this, being orthodox, and such
... thus they, considered her Dead!
My mother suffered so much from her illness
and trying to raise us four children.
She did the best she could under her duress.
She’d wonder what could make this occur again.
that now, I, the youngest am forsaken
by two of my sisters, one who just passed on
ravaged too, by the cancer that has overtaken
and polluted my family’s gene pool,
... oh sorrows, please be gone
I am the lone survivor, who, as of yet
have not fallen prey to the horrific scourge
I live under the fear and the threat
of cancerous death and pray to emerge
safely through the onslaught and expulsion
from family that my mother lived through
and wonder why all this must be redone
and why, even dialogue on this, is taboo.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Sunday, May 06, 2007
IS IT LOVE OR EXCUSES
You avoid me because
you know I know
your secrets
the thoughts that make you ill
I know how you feel
Sometimes you utter nothing
at all & the tv gets louder
to drown out the sound
of my words, my voice
a discarded memory
of what’s left unsaid
We don’t discuss
what I think is wrong
as I record the trail you forge
with the sound of your voice
hollow in my veins
while I follow you room
to room echoing your thoughts
fill the room’s silence
Thunder claps in the distance
You say the echo is loud, too clear
you turn up the volume, cover your ears
while I bisect & categorize
the entrails of your thoughts
My unsaid words follow
the curve of your hips
As you move to and fro worrying
I’ll disparage what you say
I listen, record the flow
of your words, you want me
to share my observations
I do; for you they only personify
my excellent clinical skills
your firm lips cover my unspoken words
a poor excuse, a moment frozen in time
I like the way I feel about me
when I see myself in your eyes
Your eyes hold back tears;
you stare at me & hide your soul;
why should you share to recreate the pain
I don’t exist for myself or you
Your mind’s eye a reflection in glass
None of it real
you know I know
your secrets
the thoughts that make you ill
I know how you feel
Sometimes you utter nothing
at all & the tv gets louder
to drown out the sound
of my words, my voice
a discarded memory
of what’s left unsaid
We don’t discuss
what I think is wrong
as I record the trail you forge
with the sound of your voice
hollow in my veins
while I follow you room
to room echoing your thoughts
fill the room’s silence
Thunder claps in the distance
You say the echo is loud, too clear
you turn up the volume, cover your ears
while I bisect & categorize
the entrails of your thoughts
My unsaid words follow
the curve of your hips
As you move to and fro worrying
I’ll disparage what you say
I listen, record the flow
of your words, you want me
to share my observations
I do; for you they only personify
my excellent clinical skills
your firm lips cover my unspoken words
a poor excuse, a moment frozen in time
I like the way I feel about me
when I see myself in your eyes
Your eyes hold back tears;
you stare at me & hide your soul;
why should you share to recreate the pain
I don’t exist for myself or you
Your mind’s eye a reflection in glass
None of it real
Go to raintiger.com & publish
This is a great place for new poets and writers to try their hand. They publish a great many different things and are open to new faces and styles.
The only loser is the person who refuses to try.
As long as you're trying you're a winner!
The only loser is the person who refuses to try.
As long as you're trying you're a winner!
Sunday, April 15, 2007
My short story
My story "False Pride" is included in the new all-female anthology of short stories, "Lipstick Diaries", by Augustus Publishing. Out in all the big book stores, including B & N. I’m the only white woman whose story is included; a blue-eyed soul sister. “False Pride” is a story about a young white woman from the hood on a journey of self discovery who continues to struggle in spite of making some bad choices, to make her dreams reality!
The cover is sizzling and so are the stories.
Read this short story; the entire explosive novel is soon to follow it!
You can also check me out at:
My Space
And listen to me read poetry and talk at:
Cool on the Groove
My contract gives me 2 boxes of books and now I'm paying for the copies so please support me by buying directly from me.
I can be contacted at violetwrites@nyc.rr.com or 212 569 4048.
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