Parched Meant

 

      Parched Meant

Soaked up sun today, like my body had never experienced it before.

I wanted to absorb the rays as they filled my belly with wanton lust 

yet dried my heart as Sahara sands. 

No lotion or pomade will heal the scarred patches of  raw and 

bloody pouches beneath my eyes.

Where the riverbeds are dry and a knowing drought ensues.

No happy crop will grow now, no hopes of harvesting a full

sustaining haul and storing for the lean season. 

The lean season has crept up.

I talk to hear my own  parched voice, I breathe when I remember.

Neither brings bread nor water nor tears anymore.

I need no grave. It is hot and dry and I willingly go to dust.

I need no witness for the winds to scatter ashes.

7/2015

Hopefawn Levenson

Breaking Good: Chop a Block of Famous Poetry

 

                         Breaking Good: Chop a Block of Famous Poetry

Breaking Good: Chop a Block of Famous Poetry

tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, 

creeps in this petty pace from day to day, 

to the last syllable of recorded time; 

and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. 

out, out, brief candle! 

life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, 

that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: 

it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 

signifying nothing.

Grandma Rose’s Chookies

½ C. shortening            ¼ tsp.Cream of Tartar

1 C. sugar                 1 ½ C. flour

1 egg                    pinch of salt

1 tsp. Vanilla            ½ tsp. Baking powder

Sift flour, Baking powder, & cream of tartar. Cream shortening, add sugar gradually, beating until fluffy.  Add eggs. Beat well then gradually add the flour mixture & flavoring Roll into small balls drop 1 inch apart in greased cookie sheet

Flatten sprinkle with sugar & cinnamin

Bake 400 degrees about 6 to 12 minutes.

______________________________________________________________________

Grandma Rose’s sugar cookies

½ C. butter               2 tsp. Baking Powder

1 C. sugar               ¼ tsp. Vanilla

1 egg                   2 C. flour (about)

¼ C. milk                 .

Cream butter & sugar. Beat the egg add to the milk. Sift flour and mix baking powder with 1 cup. Combine mixtures, then add the rest of the flour, and only enough more to handle. Chill in refrigiratore

Roll on floured board ¼ inch thick with sugar, cinnamon choped nuts

Bake in hot oven 375 degreesF 8- 10 minutes or use 2 eggs, Tablesp of milk

THIS is why she's so hard to defend.

Time to Choose Official Trailer 1 (2016) - Environmental Documentary HD

Bernie Sanders LIVE in Gainesville Florida @ A Future to Believe in Rally

This ol' thing.

Raised in kind she lost her mind and believed that she should please

But finding others already there she lost her warm and sunny cheer

And searched her skills and offered thrills for an avenue of release

She clung to her her wounded heart as if to staunch the pain

But nothing seemed to bring relief, she’s off the edge again.

She yearned for a loving gesture and to hold her close

But he was asleep and soundly snoring

And she was sad and hurt with longing

For affection, genuine attention

She knew it was ‘cause she’s boring

and growing ever more morose.

She is the cautionary tale of a life wasted in waiting,

while wrapped up tight and dark in mirror hating,

For her Prince to rescue

For her world to imbue

Her heart with solace delicately laced

Anticipating his spout on her lip or a morphine drip

where he knows she will sip at his love drops forever like a starving dog, like his starving dog,

His bitch ever in heat

because she knows she is just a pet, a trinket, a toy, a distraction

Raped by fear and avoidance of failure and self extraction

Where dreams lay broken, forgotten, intimately abandoned

Like the child inside.

- Hopefawn Levenson