jewelry poetry

hand crafts - magical things one can do with no training
with luck you can learn
you can even buy a book on how to do or just sit and play
whatever takes your fancy
my latest poetry jewelry
faceted authentic amethyst beads mixed with a few classy glass beads
the center bead is blue glass. The clasp is silver.
The colorful glass bead interspersed has mixed blue turquoise pink purple & white color swirls
authentic crystal beads border all other beads to set them off
on blue beading string

 

Then to divert and distract me from my tasks meet little kitty poetry guy - sweet potato Davie

Isn't he adorable ...

more crafts to distract me - a few of the dread caps I've made

a water color

 

An ink drawing on a large mailer

   

and a drawing with blue magic marker

distractions abound with opportunities ...

If you have children and want to introduce them to poetry created especially for them - check out the best poetry books for kids here.

Silver Spans the Sky

The earth so loved the sky she
opened her pregnant desire to him

and gave him her verdant green life to create a new day

The moon turned vibrant florescent
blue and the sky a flaming fuschia

My heart’s been aching

Jes sitting here hurting waiting on

you to come on home to me

I feel like rain inside silver stains the sky

Sitting here all alone a misery

Drying raindrops falling from my eyes

everyday is a just a new goodbye

hard to find a good guy

the weather is heavy like the storm
in my head waiting release praying

The strain of the rainstorm pulsates in my head

Imitating that storm about to explode

The light turned bright red

Feigned delight while waiting on green

That rain is sure to let go 

constrained by rain thunder claps in my brain the rain maintains

A steady downpour in my heart

If it weren’t for the sound of silence rain brings in its wake

I’d go insane waiting for rain

For the few who listen sounds of silence run deeper

than an underground well of experience
spreading tense suspense

It feels like rain relieves the pain I rein
in the mundane world around me

Like the desert needing rain I wait

For the downpour a steady rising in the sun

A false start a heady heart a steady downpour in my heart

Like rain I’ve never been smart in charting my course

Let me explain I try to refrain try to abstain
but it happens again and again

Like rain washes the dirt away, the pain lessens when I
eat dessert flirt with a new day

I revert to before the steady downpour of rain inside my heart

It feels like rain again today waiting for me take control

over a new domain in the fast lane

like a desert waiting for rain

I can’t complain I can’t contain the rain
inside my head it’s like a hurricane

Maybe the Dexedrine will dissolve the hurricane

A deluxe downpour of rain restrains my brain

A campaign takes hold for the rain to cease
along with my pain in my heart

Mozart the push cart prize to see the sun rise another day

Oh baby it feels like rain again today no
matter how hard I soothsay

It feels like rain today my life’s not in vain

A downpour of rain streams steadily in my heart

I sit and cry wonder how and why
the past has disappeared so fast

busy busy bee busy me

For those who don't know we finally got the Cartier back up and gunning.


If you want to download - click below
The Cartier Street Review

To only view - the link below is for you
View The Cartier Street Review 

We welcome Mike Finley here to our elegant hard working staff. Mike is responsible for layout and for getting our mag out this issue.

A hand to staff for their untiring energy in reading and sorting through submissions.

Marc Carver
DubbleX
Brad Eubanks  and click here too
Thomas Hubbard

If you are submitting for the first time- please follow these rules: Thanks to Mad Swirl for sending them to me!

1. Write something in the subject line in email to tip us off what you are sending, for example, poetry submission along with your name

2. Provide a greeting. "Hello" or "Dear Editor" works great.

2. Include a very short bio. For example, "I am John or Jane Poet". Wow, that's easy! 

3. Thank the people you are sending your submission to for taking the time to read it.

4. Include a closing salutation with a name at the end. "Sincerely, John and/or Jane Artist".

5. Don’t send more than 5 or 6 pieces maximum.

A celebration of a nation

I stand at the station

The vibration of dehydration

A severe water shortage

my hand lies upon the rail

They thought the industrial revolution

would be the solution

But it only caused humongous pollution

and made our situation worse

nursing our purse strings

There’s no absolution for the planet’s destruction

the summation of our nation requires

a delegation to provide an explanation

For the oil spill libation, the denigration of our earth,

the aggravation for future generations

Is there any salvation?

A dearth of information with the
roar of despair another new scare

As if you can make oil disappear

my words lingers like smoke the crowd inhales them

Join the midnight foray into the city wilderness –

express suppress obsess and transgress the information

deliberations lead to impressions

so - you got a standing ovation for a braised hen

dazed crazed and fed you’ll get phased
out too with introspection

remember - we’re only small atoms
in the evolution of this universe

we need to stay in motion for the duration

of our generation to achieve salvation for our planet

15 Minutes to Fame

A moment opens to eternity

Fastidious, attached to passing moments, 
I live in Warhol days

An open heart mends wounds

Are you for or against them? What’s your political game?

Everyone's got his 15-minutes of fame

Are you on their side or mine? Is it them or is it us?

Is there an us anymore? Who is us anymore anyway?

Anywhere I’m supposed to know? Did you know …

My headache keeps me awake to 
cover the worldwide news

An open wound  ~ Nightly sound of the evening news

A bleeding ulcer seeking to be healed

Closer to home news too, all news is bad news

Except the rescued puppy thrown in to control you

A news-forecast makes everything worse –

Ignore the news a week or two; say your regards to Pluto

Ignore my bleak forecast of doom

All of us are doomed anyway

The more you do - the more gets done

When you stop doing there’s no more to get done

Another open wound …

Always the dream remains of another go-round

Take care. Hope … to see you there

If & when there is another go-round

And the winner is

Congrats to Joyce Braxton Coley who won the $100 to spend. Have fun Joyce while the rest of us cry and wonder why we didn't win anything.

desperate for cash or goods ... sounds like a johnny cash song

Free!  Free!  Free!

I'm hosting a giveaway from CSN stores worth $100.  CSN stores has everything you could possibly be looking for - from unique coffee tables to the kitchen sink and everything in between with something for everyone and prices to fit every size pocketbook for all you bargain hunters.

CSN Stores has pocket books, furniture for every room, even that new red bicycle with rugs, clocks and everything under the sun with over 200 stores to choose from.

One of you lucky people who who leaves a comment, sends me a private email or twitters about this $100 giveaway will be the winner. Twitter-ers please send me a heads up to let me know you've twittered this. I'm violetwrites on twitter too!

It's hard out here for a poet for everyone I hear
Almost too much on a sister to a bear
I keep trying to make that moolah
Hooray for you and me - money for free!
free is an offer difficult offer to refuse

Next Monday September 27th I'll put all the names in a hat and pick one. Good luck everyone.

Comment Published at NY Times online

The link to the article is here:
Court Dismisses a Case Asserting Torture by C.I.A.

My comment is published here!

I think torture will never end and the populace can't possibly know what is going on because we are not permitted to. Europe is a little better than we are in providing information but in general information is controlled. Every news report will have several things; worldwide, state and local by county in addition to a few human interest tidbits. Remember we had a president who was going senile and knew nothing about anything - for god's sake he was an actor! And Ollie North took the fall! And we were told zip. Till today we still don't know who killed Kennedy and I suspect the CIA was involved. Hell how many of you are so naive you believe one silly guy who was killed did it all on his own.
Of course it's absurd for people to burn the Koran because it makes no sense to call this a protest; it's another hatemonger act. To destroy religious symbolism for the sake of protest. Kind of reminds me of the 60's when women burned their bras and men burned their draft cards but what makes this different is that it's outsiders who are being destructive and hurtful. If for example, Muslims want to protest something in their religion or culture that's a different thing.
Protesting a religious book because terrorists who happen to be Muslim hit the towers doesn't make sense. It would make more sense to distribute these books as a gift to a Muslim organization.
Actually we killed more of our own on 9/11 by forcing them to stay in a building where they'd be trapped and die and this was done supposedly with the good thoughts about preventing stampede. I know one woman who told me about how she escaped and sneaked out.
The world is a crazy place and hate will make it more crazy.

10 most amazing slam poets

I got an email from Onlineuniversities.com asking me to share the following link with my readers. I'm excited to share with you their article 10 Most Amazing Slam Poets on YouTube published on their blog at the enclosed link.
It seems to fit right in with our previous post of shared poetry, music and bluetry.

THERMODYNAMICS

I keep trying to create order amidst chaos
And am engaged in a losing battle
I try in little ways: I make up the bed,
Call creditors, respond to landlord complaints about DubbleX
Call doctors, write letters to tons of official agencies

Very little seems to help
I keep trying to create order amidst chaos
Life is stories strung together like grapes
Hanging unpicked b4 my eyes
Right there why can’t I see it

I keep looking and trying to touch
I can’t see all the fuss
Ur sweet soft lips pressing against mine
I look into your eyes, your face so fine
I see the little boy inside your eyes
Hidden away from prying eyes
Longing to be freed
The hurt small boy deep inside
Longing for a sheriff’s pin

I want to get back to where I thought you used to be
Wearing your red knit jersey hoodie
Your soft brown eyes shining thru
The dichotomy of the one I see,
the one who isn’t inside

I was going to ask you a word
Umm that sandalwood smells so good
Can’t remember what the word meant
Forget it, everything is falling apart
The bridge on 225th Street is falling down
You tell me on your return

I keep on trying to keep order amidst chaos
Amid stories strung together for their own sake
Sharing our poems about love, tranquility the strife of life
Park walks with chalk talks & loving challenges
To the world, I keep trying to hang on
To hold together the I & I as the cracks in the glass
Increasingly multiplying forming 2 X 2 numbers
The cracks so deep it’s like a crevice where lava has run down

Flowing like my intuition
I’ma’ sit for a minute enjoy the sweet warm taste of the java I made this morning


October 2008

purple hair photos- joy & dubblex

David Died

Last night he struggled for his last breath

Flailing his arms, his paws pushed against my chest

Grabbing for me with his last bit of strength

Disbelief in his eyes –

And then they were devoid empty

calling out to the doctor

“He’s passed already”

She looked at his lean slim body

“No,” she said, “his rib cage is still moving,”
She put her stethoscope to his chest

She shook her head, “You’re right,” she’s said. “He’s gone.”

Questions along with accusations swim in my head

Why didn’t I recognize his symptoms?

Why didn’t I know?
I blame myself - feel guilty

He ate normally until yesterday.
Today he died in my arms

Went about his normal activities

I noticed his shallow breathing a week ago

but his behavior seemed normal

Today he meowed loudly, staring in my eyes.
I saw he was dying

The doctor proclaimed he was too far gone
Nothing could save him

My heart aches
I doubt it will ever be the same

Longing and sad I wait for him

Sitting at my computer I see
His shadow at the periphery of my vision

About to jump on my lap

He would sit for as long as I’d be still

His soft fur like silk against my hand

purring, rumbling beneath my hand

Bright blue eyes staring into mine

He was different from the moment he was born

A malleable mellow fellow demure and docile

David would remain in any position

Siamese are supposed to talk

Not him, he preferred touch

So beautiful and sweet

Why do they have to go first?

I want David back

In memory of David, born January 27th, 2007 – August 10th, 2010

David is the one on the left in both photos.

Rotations of Quotations

The urge to merge, that surge of exploratory
circumference leading from that universal inner desire
Splurge on love with furious abandon and concentration
so powerful it feels like rage always on the verge of the next glorious conception,
A reception of unrivaled perception like a climax
And get this no hidden taxes, no more sales taxes, inheritance taxes, gift and land taxes even stamp taxes
every way I turn I spurn the next tax crack the ax on it estate tax poll tax license tax
Cover the tracks of my pain, skip the lines of taxes back on climax anti war tax withholding tax too bad we don’t relax these taxes and rely on Marxist taxes and don’t think antioxidants will cure me of the blues
Purged glory to gory what a story isn’t it always
We have so many clues
A mischarge recharged a large electric charge
A surcharge a cover charge a take charge explosive dishonorable discharge
Vindictive surly abrasive afflictive action
Can’t alleviate the stain on that purple blue velvet so soft like rain drops drawing cursive on a window pane
wild adrenalin addictive chocolate’s submissive dripping from my chin
My anticonvulsive cardio selective beehive alive behind the iron curtain
The jewish question, he shoved Mein Kempf in my hands I read the jews are not lovers of water, especially the ones who wear black dresses they have no state of their own they only learn languages not assimilate to different countries they’re like parasites waiting to take over the world,
they’re a different race, he tried to erase all traces the US turned their faces away until our army base, pearl harbor, was hit by the Japanese.
Did he think the Japanese were a new Arayan race
Hitler a curse on the human race
Kwan Yin show mercy on my brethren no more suffering
The intro says they publish this book to show the world that humanity is never ever exempt from responsibility ignorance is only a pretense they intend to commence at my expense
Now it’s past tense pray for a new line of defense
Grow a new healthy skin to cover the wound of my eloquence

Going Postal Emotional on Peaches

Did you know Pakistanis sell the best fruits downtown on street corners all around
Downtown furry peaches with skins have dark strains of orange and red
3 for a dollar choose 3 for me please Mr. fruit man
Even street sellers don’t want you to squeeze their fruits and bruise them
He displays the 3 fruits holding them up for me to see
Perfect tender moist velvet am I talking about a peach cause I swear it sounds like my pussy
From beneath the cart he grabs a bottle of water blesses my trio,
I politely thank him on my way crossing another dangerous street
juice drips down my chin I catch it with a napkin
my palette yields the taste gives me a momentary memory lapse is it heaven
up here in Washington Heights ghetto - even Riverdale
matter of fact any good store here where I go there’s nowhere to procure a fucking good peach,
or nectarines nothing like that apricots también
Store bought peaches are slightly moist mealy-mouthed fibrous fruits with no flavor or taste a pulpy consistence for twice the price and half the weight
who will pay for pitiful dismay I swear I think there’s some foul play somewhere
I can’t understand how none of the stores know how to find fine juicy peaches but these Indian and Pakistani men do
I told my neighbor about buying tasteless peaches from a local green grocer –
isn’t that funny she said you’re saying exactly what I told my daughter earlier today
See it’s not a conspiracy I’m not imagining these peaches are truly yucky
if store bought peaches taste this bad how good can they be for our health under constant attack
do you think the rich & famous eat these mealy mouthed peaches
Criminal to betray us - matter of fact stay on track Jack and present the facts
I’m looking for peaches to savor the flavor of ripe red sweet orange peaches
sink my teeth into ripe sin fulfilled and gratified juice released on my tongue
I guess I have to go back downtown and look around for those Pakistani and Indian fruit guys
They showed me whom to seek when I need to buy sweet ripe red tender peaches

EX WIFE TRIBULATIONS

What’s all this discussion about an introspection she’s having
We have our analyzations but
We can only imagine her situation
What’s her objection to the time and place
of her previous selection
what’s your impression about her disposition
to a new meeting place each week
Dragging your son around to new destinations
This week it’s Chinatown. What’s the occasion?
Some unknown purpose a distraction a new fixation on the Asian population
Every week it’s a new transmigration
A communication problem a clockwork creation every Friday
I wish I could give her an examination to figure out why she has such disorganization
why her convictions are like the weather
Why today it’s another subway station another combination a new calculation
a different regulation, the justification for another dozen calls
with hesitation you ask where’s today’s location
another starbucks a different barnes & noble in another section of town she says she’ll call you later after some further investigation on her formulation to set the details she needs to use her imagination to figure out
the navigation for where today’s exchange of your son should take place
with her mitigation and exploration of another new NYC place
Josie’s observation is that ex wife’s harassment is a violation of your rights
not to mention a terrible inconsideration
As if you have an obligation to change location forget her protestations
The orchestration of this battle of wills must have some correlation but to me it’s a mystery
If you give in once it’s like giving her an invitation to begin a new rotation to free association
All the misinformation the procrastination the vilification
We can’t understand the formation – doesn’t she know the child needs stabilization instead of an improvisation of complications each visitation day at the last moment
You mean last night she had no clue that today she was going downtown
We’d show appreciation for some clarification of the circumstances
Why can’t she call when she knows her plans instead of relying on manipulations for which
We can’t figure out her motivations
What’s her inspiration for this orchestration of wandering pick up & drop off points
her consistent continuation of these indignations
It’s getting worse every day
Congratulations on being the craziest person I know with no further deliberation and without discrimination
I gotta stop this preoccupation – this persecution is getting to me now
I want some mediation mixed with medication to
stop this perpetuation of this humiliation and domination