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THE SNAKE

25 Mar

Shed your flesh, lay it down once more

Peeled back in layers, remnants on the floor

Soaked, oiled, glistening beneath your cloak

Concealing your presence from those you’ll choke

Tall reeds and grass give shade from the glare

Again you’re hidden; out of the sun’s red flare

Heaven overhead, dead earth beneath

Waiting you are for those who’ll sleep

Silence is the key to eyeing your mark

Aim for the throat then straight for the heart

 

-Tadalena Warner

25 March 2014

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Sharing

29 Jan

Do I write
Share something fine
Let you within;
recesses of this mind.

Can I trust
Should I divulge;
hidden treasures,
secret gold?

Shh, keep quiet,
perhaps you’ll win,
the golden ticket;
passage, long forbidden.

Change your ways,
alter one act;
certain death you’ll have;
fortune turn bad.

Never looking back,
empty, starved for more,
she’ll leave you; begging,
kneeling on the floor.

Behave, be good;
treasures instilled.
She’ll cherish your presence,
until time stands still.

– Tadalena Warner

Feral Cats and their babies

30 Aug

We have several feral cats around our house.  Several months ago, I found that one of what I thought was a young kitten had babies.  She looked much too young to have kittens of her own, but there she was, a momma.  By the time I found her litter, one was already dead while the other two were having a difficult time surviving.  They were much too young to fend for themselves.  Unfortunately, the mother was also very young and not a very good mother.  She was such a poor example of what a momma cat should be that she kept her babies in the dirt.  I brought them inside and fed them sweet milk.  They started to get stronger than before, but I knew they needed their mother so I put them in a small clean box with a clean piece of fabric and set them out of the dirt.  Within in a couple of hours, I heard them crying and went to investigate.  That is when I found the momma cat had removed them from the box and placed them back in the dirt.  We went through this several times.  The heat of the summer was heavy and seemed to weigh on those two little ones so I brought them back inside and helped them get strong again.  By the third time of placing them back in the care of their mother, she had not only removed them from yet another fresh and clean box, but also allowed the smaller of the two to wander a great distance from her and the older one.  On Father’s Day, I had gone out to check on them again and could only find one of the babies.  It was not until a bit later that I found I had stepped on the smaller one.  Being no bigger than a young toddler’s foot and a mottled orange, the smaller of the two blended into his surroundings to the point it was the death of him.  I can’t tell you how awful I felt and I will not get into describing the scene more than I already have than to say, it was not pleasant.  The mother seemed to care for one that remained, but as soon as anyone came around, she would run off, leaving her baby defenseless against whatever.  We continued our little dance of bringing the baby in, gave it a bath, picking the countless fleas from its little body, feeding it getting it stronger, and returning it to her.  Their constant crying for one another is what prompted me to leave it with her, until one morning it seemed she had disappeared.  It was several days before we discovered her lifeless body at the far end of the property.  The once sweet kitten turned more vicious with each stint in the care of its mother.  Its ravenous appetite concerned me because I have seen many an animal attack its caretaker over food.  I do not know if it is because it was so poorly cared for by its mother that it has a continence problem, but for the life of me, I cannot get it litter box trained.  The pooping and peeing all over the house was getting to me before, but now it is completely out of hand.  I cannot stand that sort of behavior, mess, or smell.  With that and the aggressiveness over food and inability to touch it without being bitten or clawed I know what needs to be done, but can find no one to do it.  I do not have the nerve enough to end its life on my own and cannot see giving it a new home because it is so far gone.  To throw it outside would only exacerbate our growing feral population.

What would you do if it were you? 

31 Jul
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Live Models

 

 

Trust; it’s a thing.

Your Face

27 Jul


Photo Copyright-Rich Voza

Your Face…by TW

It feels like an eternity since I saw your face. Staring out the window, I watch the plane come to a complete stop. I catch my breath, as I watch; smiling faces, tears of happiness, and a sense of overwhelming joy wash through the crowd. Where are you? The flight attendants exit, but no you. The captain and co-pilot exit, but no you.

“Mrs. Warren, will you follow me, please.”

He leads me down the long corridor towards the plane.

“Please, take a seat.” He says, before leaving.

I look down the aisle and that’s when I saw you, smiling.

False Names

26 Jul

Liars, hiding behind fake names
Thieves in the night, drive her insane
Games on the tube, actors at the helm
These are the pawns used in her realm
Watching her they see, she’s human like thee
Listening they hear, she’s broken; in fear
Afraid to return, afraid to leave
Haunted by what she can’t see to believe
Terrified, clinging to broken glass
If she does, will they return to shatter her path
Destroy the good she holds dear
Presenting a monster whispering in her ear
Leaving marks from before
Does she walk the plank once more
Perhaps he’s the one who leaves
Either way her heart will bleed
Alone again, desperate and scared
Abandoned; proof he never cared

As poets, we are many times misunderstood and or scrutinized for our prose.  Some can be as simple as an everyday experience, as listening to a meadow lark sing.  However, there are those moments when our hearts cry out in horror, fear, undying love, and pure ecstasy.  My position is and will forever remain, if you as the reader do not understand or wish to read through my prose from my perspective, you need only ask.  I may tell you directly, but then again, I may take you on a journey. -TW

It’s good to know…

21 Mar

If you want a hospital where the doctors are jovial and the staff entertaining, you should try Florida South Hospital in Orlando, Florida. It has an amazing pediatric wing. Being only a few minutes from Walt Disney World, The Walt Disney Pavilion is a perfect name to describe an amazing section of this enormous hospital. It’s fun, interactive, and offers so much in the way of eye candy as opposed the traditional or contemporary hospitals you see today. The foyer to the ped’s area has an oversize statue of the lovable character Baloo from The Jungle Book. The staff are cordial and smile a lot. I had the pleasure of visiting that hospital yesterday. It was my second trip to the expansive establishment and worth the time spent. There is a lot to be said for an organization that goes out of its way to spread some jolly cheer to its patients and yesterday was no exception. It was pirates and princesses day. Walking up and down the halls to the cafeteria to get my cousin her coffees, I counted a minimum of seven princesses and two pirates. She had three princesses, a queen, and a swashbuckler visit her during my time there. It was great to see a hospital dedicated to offering up some whimsical fun. The surrounding area is cool too; if it were not for the gas station just outside the complex, I would have forgot that I walked those streets a couple of years ago. It must be the only gas station surrounded by decorative walls, masking the parking area and pumps. Maybe when I am done with nursing school and working towards my Bachelor’s, I’ll have the pleasure of working there too.