{"id":433,"date":"2016-08-01T23:21:19","date_gmt":"2016-08-01T23:21:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/?p=433"},"modified":"2025-04-21T13:40:35","modified_gmt":"2025-04-21T13:40:35","slug":"yellow-and-scarlet-dahlias-all-laughing-all-sultry","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/08\/01\/yellow-and-scarlet-dahlias-all-laughing-all-sultry\/","title":{"rendered":"Yellow and Scarlet Dahlias– All Laughing, All Sultry"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"20140822_184508\"<\/a>If it were any other kind of debris lying in the trash, it\u00a0would have lain in a stupor of lifeless glare:
\na neutered baby doll’s eyes, wide open and full of dull.
\nThe unsalted Hotel butter had already lost that crisp and glossy blue shine.
\nMangled BBQ chicken stinks with legs ripped and tossed.
\nA strawberry frozen yogurt container lay sideways without its top.
\nMilky stench offends nostrils, the repulsion of that which once touted
\ncool, tart confection
\nthrown into the din, awash in coffee grinds.
\nAll other waste, a forgotten nuisance.<\/p>\n

Thrown on top, still clustered together, are the sensual
\nA bouquet of dahlias!
\nOnce fresh garden flowers, all dressed up and ready for a night of dancing
\nSoft dahlias, used to murmuring among themselves
\ndrenched in dew under the white moon lighting of the night sky.<\/p>\n

Dahlias, like ten tin soldiers, stand straight, tightly wound<\/p>\n

Magnificent ladies of the night,
\na magenta red sexed up,
\npoised and arched in the middle,
\nslides slightly toward a light lavender,
\nwhose purple texture, like wafers of thin cardboard paper,
\ndraw irresistibly,
\na hand
\nurgent to reach into the trash to feel the soft, the vibrant
\nlingering in the aftermath even though the life force is long gone.
\nThe musky souls have carried on elsewhere
\nbut there is no dampening of spirit here, for the rascals,
\nthe garden fairies
\nwho sing through garish yellow petals, send the peals of a clown laughing within the garnet red swirling and curling
\ninto tiny within the center of the stigma.<\/p>\n

A stem shudders, unable any longer to carry the head of once a slender white soul and the green cracks and the angel falls into ketchup away from the others.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

If it were any other kind of debris lying in the trash, it\u00a0would have lain in a stupor of lifeless glare:<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":8,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-433","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7zCq3-6Z","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":1038,"url":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2018\/01\/14\/a-light-through-time\/","url_meta":{"origin":433,"position":0},"title":"A Light Through Time","author":"Jeff Ginsburg","date":"January 14, 2018","format":false,"excerpt":"For most of my adult life, I would call my parents, but only once a week. Even into my retirement, I had to preserve my sense of independence. But their average age is now over ninety, so our daily phone calls reassure me they are stable and I energize them\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Non-fictions"","block_context":{"text":"Non-fictions","link":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/contents\/submissions\/non-fictions\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"collage (1)","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/01\/collage-1-683x1024.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":1258,"url":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2020\/05\/10\/for-all-that-is-and-yet-may-be\/","url_meta":{"origin":433,"position":1},"title":"For All That Is And Yet May Be","author":"Tom Kersting","date":"May 10, 2020","format":false,"excerpt":"The Japanese have a word for it, the pathos of things, the sense of how fleeting beauty is, as they revel in the comeliness of the cherry blossoms, the Sakura, so lovely, so transient, so still. \u00a0 \u201cMono no aware,\u201d they call it, \u201cmuhn\u00f3 n\u00f3 \u00e1re wuh ray,\u201d they say,\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poetry"","block_context":{"text":"Poetry","link":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/poetry\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/P8190433-300x225.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":1050,"url":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2018\/09\/03\/twisted\/","url_meta":{"origin":433,"position":2},"title":"TWISTED","author":"Joe Lobel","date":"September 3, 2018","format":false,"excerpt":"THE TORN, TATTERED AMERICAN FLAG LIES ON MY NEIGHBOR\u2019S\u00a0 DECK NEXT TO THE TWISTED SECTIONS OF METAL THAT ONCE WERE HIS GUTTER. \u00a0 TORRENTS OF WATER GUSHED THRU THE ROOF, THE\u00a0 STEADY DRIPPING OF\u00a0\u00a0WHICH I CAN STILL HEAR BETWEEN THE SHEETROCK AND STUDS. \u00a0 PEEKING THRU THE REMNANTS OF RIPPED\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Featured Posting"","block_context":{"text":"Featured Posting","link":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/featured-posting\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"Joe L's photo-editted","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/09\/Joe-Ls-photo-editted-300x134.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/09\/Joe-Ls-photo-editted-300x134.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/09\/Joe-Ls-photo-editted-300x134.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":204,"url":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/07\/10\/pitter-patter\/","url_meta":{"origin":433,"position":3},"title":"Pitter Patter","author":"Joe Lobel","date":"July 10, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"THE PITTER PATTER OF JAKE\u2019S PAWS ON THE HARDWOOD FLOORS, SHOCKS ME BACK TO REALITY FROM WHERE MY MIND REVIEWS THE KALEIDOSCOPE OF ENDLESS IMAGES THAT WEAVE THE YEARS OF MY\u00a0 LIFE TOGETHER IN TAWDRY FASHION. THE COUNTLESS BIRTHDAY PARTIES, CHRISTMASES, EASTERS AND RELIGIOUS BENCHMARKS ALL ASSIMILATE INTO A MAZE\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poetry"","block_context":{"text":"Poetry","link":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/poetry\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"note 4 july1016 126","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/note-4-july1016-126-300x169.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":60,"url":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/04\/25\/hooker-3-woo-eee-dont-do-that\/","url_meta":{"origin":433,"position":4},"title":"Hooker #3, \u201cWoo-eee! Don\u2019t Do That!\u201d","author":"Gary Gladstone","date":"April 25, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"\u00a0Gary Gladstone I can list four hookers I\u2019ve bumped into in my lifetime. As I write these memoirs, one sticks out especially in my mind. She is hooker number three. In 1967 I\u2019m 32 and the rare Manhattan resident who actually keeps a car garaged in the city.\u00a0 It\u2019s expensive\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Memoir"","block_context":{"text":"Memoir","link":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/memoir\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/screen-shot-2016-04-09-at-6-05-00-pm.jpeg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":27,"url":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/04\/08\/remembering\/","url_meta":{"origin":433,"position":5},"title":"Remembering","author":"Jeff Ginsburg","date":"April 8, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"\u201cAillen, how can any of your individuality re-incarnate? Your body structures and sustains memories, emotions and perceptions. When it dies, all is lost.\u201d Because I know Aillen so well, I sense his smiling beyond the speaker-phone, \u201cEthan, you know about quantum mechanics and quantum computers. Well, microtubules in your brain\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Featured Posting"","block_context":{"text":"Featured Posting","link":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/featured-posting\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/abstract-in-snow-at-kent-falls.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/abstract-in-snow-at-kent-falls.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/abstract-in-snow-at-kent-falls.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/abstract-in-snow-at-kent-falls.jpg?resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]}],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/433","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/8"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=433"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/433\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":523,"href":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/433\/revisions\/523"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=433"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=433"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=433"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}