Blood On The Moon

An October Moon of unhallowed birth

Would glint from shadow like a gore-drenched eye.

No revelry of harvest games and mirth

Might ignore the Grim Reaper in their sky,

~ from Blood On The Moon

Let me state unequivocally that if you were hoping to read something perfect, sorry, not gonna happen. I write to my own beat, an irregular rhythm that doesn’t follow rules, it simply flows and pulses and is.

~ from Blood On The Moon

foredrawn conclusions

In this third volume of Poetic Reflections, you can expect to read offbeat ruminations on many topics, like the verse itself. It is a collection of verse. You just have to find the poems between the meandering introductions and the middling maunders.

You might also anticipate a few so-called Blonde Moments, because I was born a Blonde and enjoy a good joke about how goofy they can be. My hair later grew Golden-Blonde, like Fourteen Carat. You may suppose I had fewer Blonde Moments due to the sun not cooking my brain quite as much or something to that effect. Is this a theory or did I make it up? I can’t recall. Nowadays my hair has darkened further, yet curiously I feel I am having more Blonde Moments than I used to, which is a little paradoxic. I think. Or is it ironic?

You should know that I can be a touch “idioddic”, both an idiot and odd. That’s me. Having little “oddysseys” here and there. If you ever meet me in person, be warned. There are bound to be eccentricities and idiosyncracies and just plain odd behavior. Unless I am too shy to be comical and merely appear addled. I tend to be a lot of things at once . . . usually all of the above and then some.

In case you wish to quote me from this book, please disregard the drivel and other contents. I’ll give you something better. Let’s see. Hmmm. Oh, here’s one: “I always like to leave a store wearing a nicer hat than I came in with.” Wait, that makes me sound like a Klepto. Not that I am insulting Kleptomaniacs. Take no offense. I am simply stating a fact. I know there’s a difference between joking about something you are (like in my case crazy, weird, bananas) and a group of people to which you do not belong.

I love Horror, and I use that as a kind of general statement to explain “everything”. Along with being born a Blonde. No offense to the folks who are still blonde. I used to be, and I think it is a humorous stereotype, not a demeaning one. We know better, right? And that’s what counts.

~ the Poester (it’s a word . . . now!)

foredrawn conclusions

1. imperfect

2. blue moon

3. serendipitous

4. chocolate-covered eyes

5. the little things

6. being off

7. envious

8. horror she wrote

9. stark raving mad

10. never a dull moment

11. night howls

12. horror haiku

13. horror haiku too

when all is said or done