I Touch Beauty Daily

I Touch Beauty Daily

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Anthony



My father’s right-hand man
Decades did not change humility
Civility learned a lesson from him
Who knew not to express own beliefs
Who knew not to profess superiority
Of education, attitude, and future
But sat, year in year out
Devising his own way to count
Money gushed like open dam daily
Wealth he counted, no salivation
Sponge in a tub of water served him
Money dried his fingers crisp
Caused phalanges to hurt
Counting all that money with spittle
Coming by way of tongue-slicked fingers

He counted all that money
Disseminated parts of fractions
Carried all instructions humbly
Invented service before it spread

Distance polarized our relationship
Never got a chance to declare openly
Bottomless gratitude cherished
Thank you for decades of service
Humble, easy going, respectful
I hope respect returned itself to him fully
Thank you so much for tolerating
Nine children and uncountable relatives 


--My dream has loved paper so much for so long because it gave influence to the parched voice of a fashionista poet. Finding this outlet, that voice is now replete with expressive sound.

Friday, August 17, 2012

A Lie Becomes the Truth (Reloaded)

Frances @ 165 pounds
I am woman given to delusions of slimness
I am woman given to whims of fancy
Society expects no lie but with exceptions
Women hold fibbing license with boldface
Too lax, too lazy to work at its achievement
The chant I offered to those demanding
Once upon a time, 130 was mine to sway
Sauntering with a model’s insouciance
Fitted with a model’s draped egoism
Accelerator sped with 168-pound calories
Birth and deaths shoveled fatty tissues
They failed to ask my desire and piled high


The yardstick of validity


In retrospect, 130 was a skeleton walking
 I wanted meat on bone for man to hold
I wanted holding place for man to pull
No fear of breaking me in half, should he
Declared my weight 150 with bold face
 Repeating many times, I bought belief
Chancing a glancing in that crystal ball
Showed clearly the achievement of a lie
No stopping now when lie becomes truth
Next stop, my weight 145, now a lie
Will become the truth one day soon  


Achieving a Lie
That fat lie a slim truth did become
The yardstick of validity, a dress dotted
Hung in my closet, a secret resolve
How did such a magic come about?
I’m grateful to corn and wheat intolerance
Those two bullies achieved my goal
Now, the lie once told with a boldface
Has become the truth at sassy 145
Therefore, your honor, I rest my case  

At 145


--My dream has loved paper so much for so long because it gave influence to the parched voice of a fashionista poet. Finding this outlet, that voice is now replete with expressive sound.

Friday, August 10, 2012

Slow-Motion Leaf



Two sided mirror is the window of contentment
To see, to admire, both views of misconduct
Unlike the police department’s biased vision
Thin veiled inquisition drapery hangs
Giving uninterrupted view of curiosity
Of paraders on one side preening
Seen, but can not see  

Standing captivated and bereft
Watching it through window of contentment
Two sided mirror of voyeurism
I see it; it sees me without pause
Gliding slowly, broad view fanning

The noon sun puts it through tanning
Natural x-ray machine thins veins
Through paper smeared margarine drapery
Through blinds purchased with irony
Projected clearly for admiration
Every vein, every sharp edge
Splayed through private slide
Splayed through private screen

This leaf, autumn’s paint brush
Meta-morphed into seven shades
One leaf, seven shades, nature painted
Most prominent of the four, autumn
Paints earth tones and greens
Gliding, unhurried, leisurely down
As if lowered by a spider’s web
As if lowered by a puppeteer’s deception
Slowly it spiraled, pirouetted, paused
Downward gracefully, a swan’s pose
It glided, pausing for my breath to catch
Leaving me changed, pensive

--My dream has loved paper so much for so long because it gave influence to the parched voice of a fashionista poet. Finding this outlet, that voice is now replete with expressive sound.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

First Book to Be Published Next Month!



I am working with BookBaby to release my first book on a long list of my writing adventures. This one, The Waters Family Chronicle, combines a very unique approach to teaching bodies of water with narrating a story about naming “children.”

This book brings a fresh and fun look to storytelling with clues and hints that get the brain popping. Students and all teachers of social studies, get your computer and brain ready to outdo Sherlock Holmes.

The Waters Family Chronicle is going on sale on Amazon early next month (September). Reserve your copy today!

Please visit my Facebook Author Page; click "like.": https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Frances-Ohanenye/348583808554457








--My dream has loved paper so much for so long because it gave influence to the parched voice of a fashionista poet. Finding this outlet, that voice is now replete with expressive sound.