Cherita #1

A little cherita fun for a cold morning in my corner of the world. Peace and prosperous endeavors to all my blogging friends around the world. 🍁🙏🍂

TANYA CLIFF

shut the box and locked it

grandma carried the load
to beloved garden plot

among the clementines and lilies
she labored, humming,
and buried it six feet deep

~

Words and Photography ©2017 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

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Brush Strokes

Whether it is the leaves of autumn on the outside or artistic inspiration from within, wishing all my blogging friends a colorful week…

TANYA CLIFF

brush strokes
press wet color
onto open surface
thirsty canvas sips the pigment
as liquid hue drips from the long bristles
painting in living color, thick
intoxicating drink
through sinuous
brush strokes

~

Words and Photography ©2018 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Entry posted in poetry & Rictameter Verse.

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The Writer’s Arrow

Wishing all my blogging friends a happy and productive week. A little Monday motivation…

TANYA CLIFF

Little quill, on an inkwell, rests. The stationary lives up to its name. Ideas die in wait on a solid oak desk where an empty chair defies its game. Silence echoes your nothings. A woodpecker pecks on your window frame with intensity that rattles his brain. He needs to eat.

The poor starve. Their bellies ache.

“So it is with the world!” you shout into the pillow.

No one hears you from your bed where you scratch notes. The pencil line you draw with those words simply chases its tail around your margins. You break the lead. You crumple the paper and throw it across the room. At least the paper sees some action. It flies through the air and lands just short of your garbage bin. You leave it there with a few of its cousins. You pull up the covers and sleep among your eraser droppings.

Don’t you…

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Returning

The air in my corner of the world is crisp with an autumn chill, and the leaves are just starting to turn. I am escaping outside to enjoy it, returning to a favorite place…

TANYA CLIFF

as a child
through woodland wandered
touched the roots
with gentle feet
heard the rumble
wisdom ancient
patience
tapping
riches
deep

grown I walk
through concrete wasteland
trip on cracks
with tired toes
hear the grumbles
people modern
hurried
rushing
vacant
flows

return me now
to verdant fields
surrounding me
the soft wind thrills
heaven pressed
the air’s alluring
nature
soothing
my soul
stills

~

Words and Photography ©2017 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

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With Reservation

“You might as well expect the rivers to run backward as that any man who was born a free man should be contented when penned up and denied liberty to go where he pleases.” – Chief joseph (In-mut-too-yah-lat-lat, Thunder traveling over the Mountains)
#humanrights #EndFamilyDetention #NoBanNoWall

TANYA CLIFF

“Words do not pay for my dead people.”

Shall we talk
about
it
awhile while we travel the miles
of
defiled
land
slaughtered
animals
murdered
people
that
lead
to a
place
you will be
graciously confined to
called
a
reservation
but
you
don’t
need
an
application
just
lose
your
apprehension
and
stay
put
here
awhile while we hand out the piles
of
stingy
food
rationed
goods
white man’s
ways
that
you
are
being
graciously supplied
without
hesitation.

“Good words will not give me back my children.”

Yes, but you fled
showing great
premonition
against our
demands,

AND

we require
your
supplication
without
RESERVATION.

“Treat all men alike. Give them all the same law.”

Sure, just submit
to our
imposed
economic
spiritual
cultural
bounded
limitations

until we discover the next resource we want.

“Give them all an even chance to live and grow.”

You ARE free to live
and grow –

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