Weekend Coffee Share , a Haiku Kind of Day

With Miles turned up high

A chai latte in my hands,

I greet the sunshine.- (c) 2023

Welcome to my Weekend Coffee Share, hosted by Natalie the Explorer and shared by various authors around the globe. It’s a bright, sunny day, so my latte is chilled. The aforementioned music is The Greatest Hits of Miles Davis, lively yet relaxing.

It was another hectic, fast-paced week at school. I put my feet up when I got home Thursday night and relaxed until my boyfriend came to get me for dinner at a barbecue restaurant. The meal was good, and there was lots of venting about our jobs, and also plenty of things we laughed about together. Laughter is the best thing for stress!

Friday brought appointments. I had a thyroid ultrasound, which went well despite the long wait. Then, I went to the chiropractor and asked him for a “gentle” adjustment. When I’d gone two weeks ago, my back was still sore for about two days after the adjustment. I think my nervous system is in stress overdrive with spring frenzy and test season. Stress is bad for our health, but I felt good after this adjustment as he really listened to my comments and self-assessment of my reaction to two weeks ago.

Ah yes, test season. I’ve been teaching compare/contrast writing and assigned an essay for them to write. I have a new student that asked for a lot of help but really got going, and I could see a light in her eyes as she kept getting ideas. That is the joy of my job. Some don’t let me help them, though. I’ll just remember the good points, I guess.

Before yesterday was over, I got online results of my thyroid scan, and all is well. Today, I have nowhere I have to go. Of course, I’ll do my Saturday cardio….when I decide to. I plan to go to church for Easter service tomorrow, which is always beautiful.

A happy Easter to those who celebrate, and have a great weekend, everyone!

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Beautiful Weeds on a Spring Walk. #poetry

(c) Pamela Schloesser Canepa

Their yard is unkempt and rough,

The daisies are pretty but tough

But the lavender daisy, in light purple glory

Dares to tell another story.

My dog sniffs about, to him they’re all the same

Though of different color, they have the same name

And I wonder, what sparks their colorful claim to fame.

“I dare to be different, ” they say….

“I’m a genetic mutation,” they say…

Or ” I’m in a particularly fertilized patch of soil,” they might say.

Why are flowers talking to me?

It’s their color that shouts out, you see.

They grow as wild flowers, unpruned and free.

Daring to be different is beautiful to me.

(c) 2023

Poem to My Pain

(c) 2022

Yes, I know you’re there.

I’ve read different theories on

Why you’re still there,

And none of them agree.

Maybe you’re telling me

I work too hard,

Trying to keep me from

Pushing it too far….

Do you want me to stay away

From volatile situations,

Warn me to stay away from

Unsavory places?

You seem to want to slow me down,

And some say I should thank you.

I’d like to say it’s over,

But that doesn’t seem to be happening.

So, today I’ll just remind you…

You are not going to stop me.

By Pamela Schloesser Canepa

Zero Carb Revenge!

(c) Pamela Schloesser Canepa, 2013

She knows she has achieved it

When she reaches for a third slice

Of pizza piled with toppings, garlic, and sauce

Such an indulgence! What a rebel I am!

Fully deserved after zero-carb chicken pot pie for lunch,

She deserves and relishes an extra slice of pizza.

She ignores the fact that it’s served on thin crust,

That it’s piled high with only veggie toppings,

That she avoided the fat in beef, the sodium in pepperoni, the excess dairy in real cheese, the swelling, the aching, the stomach rumbles…

And she relishes in each garlic explosion that comes with a bite of her veggie pizza.

Boy, the things we call indulging sure do change with time!

Building a Life. #RDP #poetry

Photo by Berendey_Ivanov / Andrey_Kobysnyn on Pexels.com (A gypsy woman)

She stepped up on the platform

that they had made

but it was splintered wood.

She thought it would give her

a chance to sing

but wasn’t sure that she could,

for they thought her just a visual thing.

“No, this isn’t what I want,” she thinks.

She moved on and found a precipice

and tottered on the edge

of phobia, panic, or bliss.

Which one she never knew,

and never cared to find out.

“No, this isn’t what I want,” she shouts.

Next was a pedestal he had built,

it was hard to keep up,

and he gave her much guilt.

The winds there were lonely and cold,

The eyes on her, hungry and bold.

“This isn’t what I want,” she told.

She put her hands to work, molding

with sand, wood, mud, and clay.

She built a platform where she watched

and sometimes laughed at the passing days.

She sang and joked until the end

Leaving when the spirit moved her

and returning with new friends.

The platform was lively,

and sometimes quiet and dark.

But laughter always came back to roost,

and a dog would joyfully bark.

Paper Stars and Green Fizz, #amwriting

From a prior prompt at https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2022/03/01/march-2022-writing-prompts/

She taught me that it was okay

To give my brain a break

And let my hands take over.

When I failed the goal,

We laughed, and I tried again.

I didn’t notice my brain working,

I only heard it humming

As my fingers danced

Along the paper folds, then shook up

The bottle, creating a mess.

She helped me clean it up

And make it beautiful,

Trusted me to create, and praised

My creation that I insisted she keep.

The next day, I listened

With pencil poised,

Ready to do equations…

But I’d already learned

The most important lesson:

I could do whatever I sought to do.

(c) Pamela Schloesser Canepa, 2022

Healing, #RDP

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Maybe the prayers aren’t working,

Maybe the prayers aren’t enough.

“Please heal me, Please heal us,

Please let me heal.”

Of course, you must believe you can.

Perhaps it takes more than

a simple plea repeated.

We can reach out to others for strength

We can still affect the world and bring change

Through a broken glass image,

that they think is not whole.

But you see, there’s still beauty in a fractured soul.

Since it still reflects the light,

and still tries with all its might.

A fractured soul is still a soul,

that should never hide itself in a hole.

**Written in response to the Ragtag Daily Prompt word of the day: heal. Visit https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2022/08/23/rdp-tuesday-heal/ for more info. and to see other responses!

Answer It! #RDP

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I felt like life was knocking me down,

Like the carefree days wouldn’t be back around

It seemed old age was knocking, knocking

Always getting holes in my stockings…

But no, “being old” is not for me yet;

I’m a fun, young dinosaur, you bet!

Change keeps coming, it’s a knocking.

Time for action, no more talking…

I shouldn’t fear what may come next

I always handle things, doing my best.

Yes, change keeps knocking on my door,

No time for me to fear what’s in store.

Through the threshold, I shall go

It’s the only way I’ll ever know.

***Inspired by the one word prompt shared daily at RDP. Today’s is found at https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2022/07/29/rdp-friday-knocking/

Weekend Coffee Share, a Word

Welcome to my Weekend Coffee Share, hosted by Natalie the Explorer. I haven’t drunk coffee all week, so today I’m having my half-caff hazelnut. What’s your favorite beverage for a chat with a friend?

Due to a temporary issue with focus ( yes, despite the coffee), I want to do some wordplay. I am a middle school English teacher, after all . So, using today’s prompt from Ragtag Community, here is what I have, using the word ‘plate’:

Today

I feel like a car run out of gas

And I just want to pass the plate

It feels good doing nothing

And sleeping in late

I just want to put my feet up and rest

To realize I’ve tried my best all week,

So I’ve earned this right to not overthink,

To breathe in the sunshine and soak in

The cool breeze and warm rays.

The Day Spring Rolls in. #poetry

Spring greets us in the morning

With bright sun and singing birds at 50 degrees.

It rolls into our left open doors calmly,

Then screams it’s arrival at warm noon,

Though Spring never comes too soon,

With reminders of a lost love

Or childhood games in a state far away,

Of clover and grass once again green,

Of sunburn and beaches and fish in the cooler to clean

Time outdoors, with family , with friends, and steak on the grill

Or music in the air at a festival park

While the sun changes shades many times before dark.

When the sun slowly slips away,

We are still warmed by the hum of that day.

Photo by David Bartus on Pexels.com
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