Inconvenient Angels

Chibi explores the snow in Diamond Springs!

(Chibi's meme for today)

—Photo taken Sat. Dec. 7

by Kathy Kieth

INCONVENIENT ANGELS
—Caschwa, Sacramento

No more for you!
Mandated the bartender;
You must wear that coat
Even if it is not cute

It is time to update
A few dozen modes,
Functions, passwords,
Etc. on the computer

Gone are the godsend
Angels who delivered
Miraculous solutions without
Judgment or deadlines

Now everywhere one looks
There lurks an angel
Hot and ready to define
How far you are from ideal

Gone are the halos
From angels of yore
Those beacons of
Promise and fulfillment

Now is the age of
Do it yourself (DIY)
Which includes creating
Your own angels

I have seen DIY work
With regular people
And fail miserably with
Corporate entities

Who desperately need
The advice and counsel
of independent angels
who do not answer to them

Then there are all those
Porcelain figurines of
Angels who cannot fly
Grounded for eternity

What code did they violate
To earn such a fate?
Porcelain wings of all things
How inconvenient!

____________________

SNOW DAWN
—Taylor Graham, Placerville

I woke without time. The clock-alarm
was dead, its digital numbers
black space. Outside the windows, dark
to gray light advancing over snow.
Boots and wool, I dressed as one does
without schedule or duties beyond
breathing. Even history
seemed to have marched silently away.
No TV news. No sound but
waiting. Possibility. Pale geometry
of snow. The fire had gone to sleep, cozy
in its bed of ashes. Dogs
at the door, eager to pursue whatever
had moved across the dark
on snow. I walked out for wood. But
snow was beckoning
trees leafless in their still dark-branch
dance to rejoice for snow.
I walked till I was warm and light.
Frozen lace whitening
with dawn, a deep quality
of blue. My dogs rolled snow-crystal
angels as white lightened,
smiling like a sometimes-lover.

—Photo by Taylor Graham

ON ANGELS
—D.R. Wagner, Locke

I never speak of angels
Lest they abandon both
The high places and the pins
And leave the notes they are
In music and the words they
Are in poems and the caps
Of waves they are upon the ocean
And the leaves of all the trees
That are their bodies or the wings
Of birds or those of bees and all
The other insects and the beasts
That walk and crawl and burrow
Here upon the earth.  Lest they
Forget to cluster round the highest
Throne and find delight in all that
Is created within their realms
And full upon our own.

I never speak of angels.
Rather, I will sing them with
My speech and play them with
My songs and music and dream
Them in all the places on and off
The earth.  Oh let them reign as
All creation reigns and dazzle us
With all the things they are here
Upon our sorry spinning earth. 

May they
Take us in their fiery arms and
Bear us to the highest when
We leave our fleshy bodies
And our dust becomes the
Universe again and we become
These selfsame angels singing there.

______________________

EVERYONE ON MY FRIENDS LIST:
LEAVE ONE WORD ON HOW WE MET

—Cynthia Linville, Sacramento
 
We met accidentally


over the wrong theater seat


your eyes laughing

your date fuming



We met angrily


over dented fenders


your insults burning 


your radiator steaming



We met secretly 
in a dark alcove


your hands hungry


your mouth punishing

______________________

PLEASE

—Cynthia Linville
 
If you love me

If you read my posts all the way through

If you have a mother sister cousin son daughter



If you support soldiers missing children breast cancer survivors



If you remember the 50s 60s 70s 80s



If you get this kitty pancake bacon Star Trek Jesus meme 



If you love freedom


Then copy paste post sign share this message
or the world will end


_____________________

Today's LittleNip:

Dear Jane,

It hurts me to hurt you
but I’m gonna keep doin’ what I want to do.
So long and thanks for all the kisses.
Best wishes,
John

—Cynthia Linville

_____________________

—Medusa, with thanks to today's contributors, including our Chibi, who was bumfuzzled by the snowman our neighbors built last Saturday and barked at it.

—Photo from Taylor Graham's new book, 

What the Wind Says, available from Lummox Press

(www.lummoxpress.com)