Ghoulish Goulash

goulash yummly

Old Fashioned Goulash (Yummly.com)

 

She hates soup. She hates stew.

She can’t stand beef. Tomatoes, too.

She doesn’t care if it’s tradition.

She doesn’t care it’s grandma’s edition.

To her the concept is just foolish

And your goulash is plain ghoulish.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Fluff’s Preamble

dandalion AmitaiAsif

Photo: Amitai Asif

 

In a huff

It is easy

To dig in one’s heels

In rebuff and fumble,

When in truth

Fluff can

Just as well

Signal

New concepts

Awaiting

A draft’s timely

Arrival.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Orange Central

Fall NYC ArletteLoeser

Photo: Arlette Loeser

 

There’s a hue to the park

Tints of gold

Chardonnay

Dirty blond

Saffron.

A whole range of

Damp fire

Bridging

Fall

Dusk to dawn.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Definite Identity

Berlin streetart3 InbarAsif

Photo: Inbar Asif

 

“The fact of being

Who or what

A person

Or thing

Is.”

A name.

A self.

A singularity.

A distinct

Individuality.

A recognition of

An original

Personality.

 

(Poem inspired by the Oxford Dictionary)

 

For The Daily Post

Trademarked Children

kids on dock OsnatHalperinBarlev

Photo: Osnat Halperin Barlev

 

“She is a stubborn one,” her mother claims. “Screams bloody murder when she doesn’t get her way.”

“He is our difficult child,” the father sighs. “I guess every family has one.”

“This one is the lovey-dovey twin,” the grandma declares. “Her sister? She’s the total opposite. Wriggly worm, that one.”

“He’s Mister Independent,” the foster mother says, “Won’t let anyone help him with anything.”

“He’s the lazy one,” the teacher complains. “If he can get away with not doing something, I bet you he won’t do it.”

“She’s the fighter,” the nanny imparts, “bossy as they come.”

Surely she is more than stubborn. Surely he’s not always difficult. Surely there are times she does not want to cuddle and when her twin sister relaxes into hugs. Surely sometimes he wishes to be helped. Surely he is not just lazy. Surely there are situations where she does not want to fight.

Children listen to our words, and the tone we say them. They internalize our attitudes of them and all too often identify with the boxes we sort them into. Let us take heed, for what we stamp children as, they might live up to without knowing there are many more hues in the palette of what they are and can become.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Anti-Cacophony

Tranquil InbarAsif

Photo: Inbar Asif

 

Take a break from the city

From the din

From the crowds.

Walk yourself into quiet

Find a park

Riverside.

Turn the clamor to low

Let your breath

Ebb and flow.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Enlightenment

Moutain water YaelYehuda

Photo: Yael Yehuda

 

May you have your eyes wide open

To truths

Your heart had always known

But some wish you’d forget:

Love holds far more power

Than hate;

Light illuminates

What darkness might aggravate;

Empathy is the only real energy

Of making great.

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

Also: Glow

What To Expect

life lived2

 

“I don’t know what to expect,” he said.

“Expect the unexpected,” the old woman smiled.

His smooth brow wrinkled,

Unconvinced but polite.

Her smile grew.

She patted his arm and sighed.

She, too, had been a greenhorn

To life

Intent on knowing

What cannot be known

Before experiences

Arrive.

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

Egret Regret

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Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

Some photo challenges are worth more than one dip into the creative well … And this week’s Glow deserves a second-helping. Here comes:

I love this photo of egrets in the emptied fishpond near my sister’s house. The palm sentinels in the background, marking a line between sea and dug up sand. The birds congregating at the end of day in the shimmery wet portion of the pond, pecking for what small critters and flying insects can be found. How some egrets linger, forlorn, over the exposed bits, perhaps waiting for a change of tide. Are they harking for the times just passed, when their ‘lake’ glittered with fins? Are they holding out hope — as water, and alas, not sparkling scales, reflect the soon departing sun — for better days and the return of plenty to dine on?