Caroline Gerardo's Blog, page 45

Ocean Inspiration Poem

Ocean Inspiration Poem

You

I know you my sons.

You can be anything.

You are able to fix everything but death.

All you need is a roadmap and hands.

Your fingers are strong, toss the Rubbermaid lid opener,

feel the struggle with my lungs when the waves overcome,

turn on the gas when you are tired,  find the kick,

Only mac n cheese the electricity is shut off.

You require a plan.

Two feet walk across the ocean.

Follow the sunset west, or the pelicans if you must.

"Get up," I say "Don't die on me Mom."

"God I hate a quitter."

You can be anything.





copyright ©10/10/2011 Caroline Gerardo



 





Caroline Gerardo Author: CM Punk Poem

Caroline Gerardo Author: CM Punk Poem: CM PUNK SXE WWE stands for: Warrior who wakes every day. Get back up lift the weight of the world Give the jumping hammerlock not pape...

Caroline Gerardo Author: Thanksgiving Mourning Wing Sounds Poem

Caroline Gerardo Author: Thanksgiving Mourning Wing Sounds Poem: It is Thanksgiving in Canada, there is an opposite season in the world. October sunflowers return on the hillside in random rows. Seedl...

Thanksgiving Mourning Wing Sounds Poem

It is Thanksgiving in Canada, there is an opposite season in the world.

October sunflowers return on the hillside in random rows.

Seedlings from my colossal variegated propped up blooms.

A cherry tomato gone wild is more elegant than Monsanto's.

I was honest last Thanksgiving,

but he holds his own version story.

How long will the healing process take?

How should I know?

My life has an egg timer, there are three mouths to feed.

After years of caring, the heart does not want to let loose the guide rope so easy.

A hot air balloon unattached to the basket mid-air mid-life wanting to stay connected.Missing the sound of the girlies wings.

Pruning of my hybrid teas does not change the ramblings of climbers and stray hummingbirds.

I am happy in my soul.

I stopped filling the feeder, I gave up the trail with old haunts, until my fingers bleed at the cuticles, but still that sprout gets into my dreams.

CM Punk Poem

CM PUNK

SXE

WWE stands for:

Warrior who wakes every day.

Get back up lift the weight of the world

Give the jumping hammerlock not paper flower excuses

folded over in accordion tissue by some pink couture

taffy singing a siren song.

Get back up, lift the weight of the world.

Sisyphus unafraid of the locker room's smell,

dripping with joint pain he doesn't take crap pills,

runs his hill straightedge full speed.

Face crowds who cheer for blood.

Easy when the money rolls in



 the body springboards off a clothesline.

Sail off the platform into burning stars,

a brown spider web, a foxhole,

a day in and day night grind.

Jump back the world needs a hero.

Owl Morning Wish

Baby Owl Who Fell From Nest Rescued

Caroline Gerardo





 Black fog night,






it is snug morning.




Our screech owl returns every end of September.




Walk barefoot pick up the teepee toilet paper,




he laughs with me,

about the muddy rye grass between my toes.




Dinner at Dar Maghreb,

was that last night or just yesterday?




I didn't speak this time about locations

and smells that remind me of you.




Things bring me center into a happy past are ephemeral.




They return like the Scops Otus habit of sitting on my gazebo.




I wish I could put him in a cage and stroke his wings gently.




The tiny ring box you gave me with metal feet.




I'de open the lid when I need courage and hear the call.




Do owls eat turmeric at sunrise?




















Dandelion Wishes






Sunrise


Note: Owl in photograph is baby found lost from his mother who was killed. With a broken wing and weak spirit we brought him to a specialized vet who was able to repair the wing and rehydrate him. He needed special care every three hours. My daughter (who loves to sleep) got up and fed him as a dutiful mommy. He was released about four months later and returns every Fall. He is not domesticated, he hunts and really does sit on the gazebo looking for mice and bunnies.

please check here for owl calls: .http://www.owlpages.com/contributors.php?conid=84

Thorny Terrorist Poem

Thorn Terrorist Poem

© copyright 2011Caroline Gerardo






School project essay on 9-11:



My new father,

asks trust to move 3000 miles.

assures us of confidence,

and melts waxy covers.

My own father's failings

are Grand Tetons of brutal betrayal in icy falls.

The last year trick or treat -

seventh grade, awkward in my cavernous skin.

Homemade costume Where the Wild Things.

My tail is real mink.

I rush mom for dinner, pillowcase and party.

She smiles.

Man impatient with her as well.

Only wanting my happiness mom let you fend,

-ten minutes, be right back, –your cruelty about her driving,

jealous your mom never carved pumpkins ghosts with thorns for hair.

You bark prickly again at her, she hits your BMW in the driveway,

no insurance, she writes a check for $9800,

money she didn't have, 50 year old cocktail waitress.

More bad advice from a terrorist.

The kitchen table with filament from above, glows on your words,

"family fidelity and your commitment to lead us,"– into hell.

Baby brother, no half's, has your spacing in his shitty green eyes.

Will he go live in a bedouin tent and betray us?

Mom says not to talk to ourselves about past worries.

"Release superficial complaints speak to your heart held in gentle hands."

I talk to myself in spiritual endeavor,

won't do any good to kill the man terrorist tonight.



copyright © Caroline Gerardo September 11 2011

#guardianbookswap Go Global Books

The Guardian Guardian Books and the Observer have a promotion to increase literacy and have fun sharing books. The idea is modeled after Book Crossing and some other promotions. The concept is for readers to leave a book with their printed label informing the finder what- where when and why The next five weekends let's join together.





Add your photo and they will Geotag the location of the book.



Here is the link to download the label:



http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/interactive/2011/sep/15/guardian-and-observer-book-swap-sticker



The label goes inside your softly used book







I am thinking that my author friends in the United States, Canada, Australia and New Zealand... will join in the fun.



Add the hashtag #guardianbookswap your favorite author ( can be yourself ) the location of the book and a picture on twitter. Easy to join I will be tweeting about this, come play @cgbarbeau

If you want YOUR book included put a bitly link ( or any 301 direct link) to your book in my comments and we will start a "chain letter" your job will be to tweet the link above you with #guardianbooks and the location. If your book is only available as ebook then we will leave a  USB memory stick with a note and the label?



Rupert Murdoch when you read this please also comment so we may include you!



C. G.

Time Machine, #IIChallenge - Northern Ireland

Ballyholme Short Story, Time Machine Caroline Gerardo












The do-over spirit arrives in Natalie's room under a waxing gibbous moon.



"I'm sending you back to a moment in time where you may correct any error."



Natalie is unable to move her limbs, terror climbs from her toes to her chest, but the pain does not waken her. She cannot roll over and pull the covers over her head.



"Go away, I'm not buying any magazines, ghost."



The apparition is not lovely, her knotty pine hands touch the smile lines on Natalie's cheek.



"I'm taking you back to points in your life,  twice you may change the tide of events, a time machine-"



"What do you think this is, a Christmas Carol?"



"No, trust me," the phantom says.



"I've heard that line before, it never leads to good fortune-"



"It is 1980 and you are in Ballyholme, Ashley Gardens."



"Oh, I know the stone façade of the flat- if I could shake myself awake, or put my feet on the floor," Natalie says.



"Natalie you were in love, Robby does not know you were M15."





**



Back in the apartment, a slouching bed rests in the guest bedroom, like a rock swallowed by the sea. Fireplace ashes need clearing, the penetrating smell of soot consumes the confines. In the kitchen, a fit woman cranks the gas meter with twenty-five pence coins. This pays for the stove and hot water. She opens the window to allow the smell of salt air fill her heart. Robby is in the living room with his guitar. His brother Shaun and Michael Connelly (a rough and tumble punk with piercings and tattoos on his upper body) are speaking with sullen tones. Robby is six foot and lean, not as robust as his brother Shaun, the three of them make up the band Moondogs.



"He was such a fool to listen to his older brother, they should have stuck to punk music not politics, damn god and Ulster."



"So - change what happened-"



"They sent me there with instructions to infiltrate the Blacknecks. I was doing my job."



"Didn't they tell you not to fall in love?"



"Yeah, but they also knew I was incapable of not caring, that and my abilities made me great."



"Seems like you should've known with your code name-"



"Cumaean," Nat sighs remembering the taste of chili-mac dinner that stormy night. "We were poor and the boys thought it exotic compared to potatoes."



"You have the chance to run, to back away, change what happened-"



"No. I locked away my abilities with my past. I still analyze; but I never write down dreams. Going back doesn't change who I am."



"This was your first kill?"



"They planned to bomb Belfast Central Rail Station. The VBIED (Vehicle Borne Improvised Explosive Device) was already in the trunk. I slashed the tires to stop them, figuring they couldn't substitute another car in time. I called the car location in. Then they borrowed a van, I had to stop them."



"Don't shoot three boys, change the altercation-" the spirit taunts.



"I wouldn't change a thing."



"Sure?"



"Yes, I lost a love for Queen and Country, but I saved many others. Take me away from the smell of the ocean."



"Then I direct you Natalie to a time you recall well, it is recent history. Again choose to change the course of events, perhaps better your life."



Natalie says, "I don't want to play this game. I have regrets but I've made my road."



"About a year ago, you were betrayed by your fiancé, and made a choice that perhaps was unwise."



"I don't regret the geriatric pregnancy. I'm not taking anything back."



"The Doctors warned you, elevated blood pressure might kill you or cause a stroke."



"One life is not better or more worthy than my life."



"Your other children what will they do as orphans? Will Catholic guilt help?"



"I believe in love, and giving unconditional love."



"But-"



"No there is no but, point out all the people who have hurt me, those who lied, cheated me and my children. It doesn't matter, I choose to love, to forgive, every day of my life."



The ghost grows more white and translucent. Her voice is higher in tone as a child's, "Natalie you have chosen to stay on this earth."







**



The doctor removes the disposable gel foam pads and applies gummy candy to the paddle, "hit her again, the foam on the pads are not making a good connection."



The Defibrillation depolarizes a critical mass of Natalie's heart muscle. The sound of the force punches the delivery room. Her body bounces, the arrhythmia stops, and normal sinus rhythm returns oxygen to Natalie's cells.



"Welcome back little mother."



http://indieink.org/writing-challenges/



This was written for the Indie Ink Writing Challenge 9/11/2011 based on

Disease prompt to happen upon a time machine and go back and change something. I thought about the prompt last night, and given the opportunity, there is little I would change, except to grant myself more time.



copyright Caroline Gerardo



Character of Natalie I am developing to start another novel- in early stages noodling - getting to know her.

I would appreciate input about: female character who was a spy now middle aged. Can you like her or is she cold? This female protagonist may have flash backs to this past later in the story.

Time Machine, II_challenge

The do over spirit arrives in Natalie's room under a waxing gibbous moon.



"I'm sending you back to a moment in time where you may correct any error."



Natalie is unable to move her limbs, terror climbs from her toes to her chest, but the pain does not waken her. She cannot roll over and pull the covers over her head.



"Go away, I'm not buying any magazines ghost."



The apparition is not lovely, her knotty pine hands touch the smile lines on Natalie's cheek.



"I'm taking you back to two points in your life, you may change the tide of events, like a time machine-"



"What do you think this is, the dream from Christmas Carol?"



"No, trust me," the phantom says.



"I've heard that line before, it never leads to good fortune-"



"It is 1980 and you are in Ballyholme, Ashley Gardens."



"Oh, I know the stone façade of the flat- if only I could reach to shake myself awake, or put my feet on the floor," Natalie says.



"Natalie you are in love, Robby does not know you are M15."







**



Back in the apartment, a slouching bed rests in the guest bedroom. Fireplace ashes need clearing, the penetrating smell of soot consumes the confines. In the kitchen, a fit woman cranks the gas meter with twenty-five pence coins. This pays for the stove and hot water. She opens the window to allow the smell of salty ocean fill her heart. Robby is in the living room with his guitar. His brother Gregory and Shaun Connelly (a rough and tumble punk with piercings and tattoos on his upper body) are speaking with sullen tones. Robby is six foot and lean, not as robust as his brother Gregory, the three of them make up the band Pitcher.



"He was such a fool to listen to his older brother, they should have stuck to punk music not politics, damn god and Ulster."



"So - change what happened?"



"They sent me there with instructions to infiltrate the Blacknecks. I was doing my job."



"Didn't they tell you not to fall in love?"



"Yeah, but they also knew I was incapable of not caring, that and my abilities made me great."



"Seems like you should've known with your code name-"



"Cumaean," Nat sighs remembering the taste of chili-mac dinner that stormy night. "We were poor and the boys thought it exotic compared to potatoes."



"You have the chance to run, to back away, change what happened-"



"No. I locked away my abilities with my past. I still analyze; but I never write down dreams anymore. Going back doesn't change who I am."



"This was your first kill?"



"They planned to bomb Belfast Central Railway Station. The VBIED (Vehicle Borne Improvised Explosive Device) was already in the trunk. I slashed the tires to stop them, figuring they couldn't substitute another car in time. I called the car location in. Then they borrowed a van, I had to stop them."



"Don't shoot three boys, change the altercation-" the spirit taunts.



"I wouldn't change a thing."



"Sure?"



"Yes I lost a love for Queen and Country, but I saved others, take me from here."



"Then I direct you Natalie to a time you recall well, it is recent history. Again choose to change the course of events, perhaps better your life."



Natalie says, "I don't want to play this game. I have regrets but I've made my road."



"About a year ago, you were betrayed by your fiancé, and made a choice that perhaps was unwise."



"I don't regret the geriatric pregnancy. I am not taking anything back."



"The Doctors warned you, the elevated blood pressure might kill you or cause a stroke."



"One life is not better or more worthy than my life."



"Your other children what will they do as orphans? Will Catholic guilt help?"



"I believe in love, and giving unconditional love, I have great responsibility to my children."



"But-"



"No there is no but, point out all the people who have hurt me, those who lied, cheated me and my children. It doesn't matter, I choose to love, to forgive, every day of my life."



The ghost grows more white and translucent. Her voice is higher in tone as a child's, "Natalie you have chosen to stay on this earth."







**



The doctor removes the disposable gel foam pads and applies gummy candy to the paddle, "hit her again, the foam on the pads is not making a good connection."



The Defibrillation depolarizes a critical mass of her heart muscle. The sound of the force punches the delivery room. Her body bounces, the arrhythmia stops, and normal sinus rhythm returns oxygen to Natalie's cells.



"Welcome back little mother."



http://indieink.org/writing-challenges/