Image © Klaus Enrique Gerdes

An apple wasn’t the only fruit he used

Garnished with everything edible
he could possibly find
even using sweet scented flowers
to further lure and to entice

He peeked out from behind
those black soul-less eyes
mouth hidden
but the devil couldn’t help
smiling
so aware that everything
about him was saying

‘Bite me’

~*~

© Daydreamertoo              *All rights reserved

I wanted this to be deeper than just about fruit. Despite it being fruit the pic seems somehow darker than that  (to me)

Shared with Magpie Tales #120 image by Klaus Enrique Gerdes

Sculpture by Leonardo da Vinci

A sudden streak of lightening
burst through the open wood shutters
of his studio
its flash hit the sculpture square on
quickly followed by a loud crash of thunder.
The surprise caused the elderly man
to miss-strike with the hammer and chisel.

He saw it pierce and split his skin
and knew there would also be a bruise
come morning.

Too on edge to sculpt anymore
but the night was still yet young
his old bones groaned at the crouch
as he picked up then shook a layer of dust from
pieces of parchment which lay in a crumple
on the cold stone floor
and, without missing a beat
of wasted time
Leonardo lit more candles
and ‘neath their flickering glow
proceeded instead
to draw.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

As soon as I saw the Sunday Whirl words, I knew I wanted to find an artist but because of the word chisel, someone who also did sculpture too. Who better than Leonardo da Vinci. A remarkable genius with so very many talents.   Leonardo da Vinci

Shared with Poets United Pantry #101
The Sunday Whirl #59  12 random words. Make a poem with them.  This is a lot of fun each week. If you haven’t ever paticipated, please join in.

Apart from words
gadgets are my thing
I love taking them apart
putting them back together again
and hopefully still,
they sing.

They call the board a mother
because (I suppose) she does
all the work, knows everything
and nothing is possible
without her being in attendance.

It needs cards for this and
cards for that and cards to
make it reach out and touch
the world.

Some have been so addicted
they’ve left here close to tears
because they had to leave it behind
and would miss their Bingo or
other games they play.

Some addicted to sex
(Rolls eyes)
Hard drive so full of adult porn
no wonder it caught all the
social diseases going and hence
couldn’t perform.

Some freak at the sight of
the blue screen of death
(used to freak me out too)

Some are dead as door nails
but,
I get such a kick out of
raising them from the grave
then, seeing the big cheesy grin
on the faces as I hand them
their baby all back up and
running again.

Sometimes I’ve spent all
night long on a conundrum
trying to solve a problem
of how or what or why
and when I do
I could jump for joy at
the beating of the puzzle.

No,
it isn’t work at all
when you love what  it is that you do.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo                       *All rights reserved

*The pictures are both Google images.

My computer knowledge is all self taught.
A few years ago, as a challenge to myself, I bought an empty computer casing, bought all the parts I needed and built my own computer from that empty box.
With nearly everyone wanting access to information on the go, soon (I think) desktop computers will be history, laptops, tablets and cell phones are taking over and I’m now getting more and more into wanting to work with laptops. I can replace hardware, hard drive, ram, DVD/CD drives and such, but, want to learn a whole lot more about their internal workings.
I find it all absolutely fascinating.

Once I had a computer belonging to a friend’s 17 y/o grandson.  He’d put a dreadful porn picture as his desktop wallpaper but his comp was filled with so many different bad viruses so, I couldn’t remove the picture at all because the machine wouldn’t let me do too much with it and he didn’t want it formatted. Each time Chloe (then aged about 11) walked by, I had to cover it with the largest book I had so that she wouldn’t see the screen. After working on it for a few hours and hiding the screen dozens of times, she herself realised I was hiding it because it was porn.   I finally got rid of a lot of the viruses and then was able to delete the picture.
Boys will be boys….lol His comp was always breaking down.  LOL

Shared with dVersePoets Poetics:

Suzi Quatro was dynamite
back then.
A beautiful, original
rock and roll one woman power house
Always on TV
on Top of the Pops
where she Canned the can
(whatever that meant)
or sang
‘Down in Devil Gate drive.’

My step-father
(though he didn’t believe in God)
said it was the devils music
but
my heart knew
it had no devil living there.

Suzi showed all the lovely
young women
it was okay not to look fem
in her biker-leather-jackets and jeans
she was perfect
(to me)

I busted a gut to her rock
could hold my own
on the disco floor
dirty-dancing the night away.

But she also sang a sad song
which made sense and, still means
a lot to me.

“If you can’t give me love
let me go look for somebody else.”

I took her sound advice

and did.

Keep rocking it Suzi
you are legend.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Apparently Suzi was really well known and had quite a few hit songs in the UK and Europe but not until much later in the USA. They don’t know what they missed!

Shared with
Poets United Think Tank #99 Possibility
With Real Toads With Real Toads Rock Hard: Suzi Quatro

© http://www.waiming.com

Simple morning chores all done
she was drawn by the metallic tinkle.

To a jingle-jangle of sound
which echoed so clear.
It was sweet, sweet
music to her ears.

Such a beautiful noise
drowned the gurgling sound
of water swirling at her feet.

The chimes were not placed
there through error though.
As with most of the small
Himalayan village
her papa is a fisherman
and he’d placed them
there to please the Gods.

To ask them for their blessings.

In awe
…she hesitates
wishing so to own.
To covet their music-bringing-joy

but,

as if to show displeasure
at being thought a toy
to her surprise
a sudden gust arrives
and blows the chimes just
out of the young child’s reach.

shaken by this
to vindicate herself of
anymore such selfish thought
of ownership
she gives thanks instead for their sharing
and offers a silent prayer.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo           *All rights reserved

The prompt by Dani today at Poetry Jam was to use art/painting for our inspiration.
I wanted to write something to do with Tibetan wind chimes and, Googling it came across this artist’s stunning work. He has so many lovely paintings at his website.
Wai Ming

Shared with Three Word Wednesday: CCLXXIV Jingle, Error, Vindicate
Poetry Jam Painting a picture with words

Each time we come back
we return to enable our souls
to repair our prior mistakes
Our sins, our damage to others
which is why we sometimes
go through Deja Vu

We come back to reach a higher level
of spirituality in order
for us to eventually return
to the Prime Creator

back to the
‘I am’
of which we are all
one small part.

When Gods and men lived
side by side
I guess we knew their source
The fountain of all knowledge
and we wanted a share in it too
to understand the magic
they could do

And,

I always knew I’ve loved you before
another time, another place
for I recognised your soul.

Soul mates see through the mist

…clearly.

The ache is soothed
with time’s healing balm
through all the setting suns
yet,
there is new love to
discover too which
awaits the lucky ones

So if it’s you

Choose again

and,

choose well.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Shared with dVersePoets OpenLinkNight #46
Poets United Pantry #100

Sands of time
ever moving
shift once again
offering new direction.

Untied hair blows with
the winds of change.
Just the slightest breeze
but enough to tease those
tresses from their
sleepless rest.

She vowed a thousand kisses deep
to keep passion’s flow alive within
the core of her being
in the living stream.

A hand reaches
to brush a cheek
….tenderly
with love.

Smiles cover the sting with a
soothing balm of unspoken knowing.

A sea of sky
stretched arms out wide
before my eyes
as if Heaven’s awake to my needs
there is no sacrifice to
high a price for love
and,

if you want to be a hero
you have to live your dreams.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Shared with
Carry on Tuesday#157 Prompt: The Long and Winding Road
With Real Toads Open Link Monday

Image © Edward Hopper House At Dusk

Sun slinks low to the horizon
giving leave for darker shades
of dusk to arrive.

Trees rustle their conversations
with all manner of inhabitants
muted, to suit the dying of light.

The steps take us up into
another world.
One where,
we may not wish to go in
the dead of night
but, the street lamp
offers a quiet glow of courage.

Light plays across cold-stone walls
of the old house
somehow
softening their intimidating depth.

If walls could talk
what would they say about those
hearts they’ve known?

For all its rooms the house
is empty
save a woman, who waits.

Maybe she has always been
isolated in that one room
looking at its four walls but peeking
at the world outside every now and then

just as we all tend to live in our separate boxes
leading our own separate lives.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo *all rights reserved

*I wanted this to be a bit on the dark side because the painting seems somewhat dark and lonely too.

Shared with Magpie Tales #119 Edward Hopper House at Dusk Painting.

Barnacles covered everything. Eventually
leaving all surfaces, brittle, flinty and
prone to easily cut into the softest
of soft flesh.

Suddenly the water was churning
…gurgling
as if there were a storm approaching.

It had been rough many times before
but this, somehow was different.

She felt a sharp scrape along her lips
tongue, chalk dry now from fear
as light came flooding in.

It was all a blur as she was
lifted high then
dipped back into the water
Naked now
completely drenched

and,

the little pearl
was born.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

*I was going to write about a mermaid but then thought it might be a little quirky to write what a pearl’s thoughts might be.  lol

Shared with The Sunday Whirl #58

We came for all the rides.
Not much money in our pockets
but it was all so much cheaper
back then too.
A couple of quid (pounds)
got us plenty of those and
maybe some candy floss too.

There were boat swings
and chair planes
ghost trains to ride
a Ferris wheel to sit atop
(and get stuck when it broke down)
if you felt so inclined.

The bumper cars were fun
yeah,
I was fourteen and so sure I could drive
(not)
right into the front, back and sides
of anyone in the way.

The switchback, the waltzer, I hated those
the carousel was a bore but the side stalls
excited, especially the guns.
Oh, how I loved to shoot those pellet guns
at the little metal men, knock them all down
win another free go and off I’d go again.
Even with their sights all bent
(just to make it harder to win)
somehow, I always won.
Don’t think they liked me much
but then, I walked away with a big fluffy
teddy bear so, I didn’t care.

Used to feel so sorry for the goldfish
tied up in plastic bags, no air to breath
nowhere to move, hung up in heat all day.

The darts, the hoops, the plastic ducks
all waiting to be hooked.

The noise, the music, the screams
the joy all carried on the air.

The smell of hot dogs and fried onions
burgers, fish and chips
along with
pink and white candy floss on sticks
and toffee apples
upon which to break our teeth.

The rain that came and never left
’till every step we took was mud
and we’d end up caked in it all
covered in the stuff
swearing we’d never come back
and yet
there we were as soon as the fair
showed up in town once more.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

*Pics are all Google images

Shared with dVersePoets Poetics: The Fair