Today I am configuring the new Blogger format. I am trying to figure out all the unique features of the new template. So far, so good~!




Not sure why I cannot  space between paragraphs, however.
I may like the old format better.
I am still abit concerned about only being able to upload downloaded into my computer instead of directly interfacing with Youtube (for example).
I have, as yet, to make a dime with the monetary features, but then I am not drawing the crowds as I am not  caving under the banner of "mass-appeal".  My art is eclectic and I'd like to remain this way. Unless  everyone all of a sudden thinks I am the "shiznit" I suppose I will remain, Chiccoreal the Obscure; I am fine with this. Who know...I may have a breakthrough idea that will take off like the proverbial sliced bread.
Until that time, I will keep on keeping on, doing the same thing I have always done, improving with each keystroke. (Yeah, right...)
I do believe  we are in for an exciting ride; especially the new "in-your-face-interface" when virtual reality is virtually where you are, and you have no other option but one. Interface or be permanently "iggied".
Please continue to remain my blogger buddies, as I have no other option than to go with what is being proposed today; and since I am not getting any offers; I take what I can, and you will have to do the same.
This may seem harsh; you may want to quit being by best BB, but I don't care. I had to state  my truth today; which is.....(stayed tuned to find out...the best is yet to come...).

Chiccoreal

Mag 114 Earth's Mule-Kicking Mother; Joan D'Ache

image by Alex Stoddard

Earth's Mule-Kicking Mother; Joan D'Ache

You've got me covered girl

in your vast array

of gin-rummy games

what's up doc?

thought you could drown me

catch as catch can

take a ride on my seesaw bike

bribe me with attention; divert your eyes

this multi-national psuedo- multi-dimensional diversion

so diverse as to store tons of manure there

as well as all of this heresy of meaning unknown

but mean as shit were the times to keep you locked up

for praising the name

well-stocked earthen vessel

we will ride for free

she countered

sense how already-mixed up

the upside down cake

adipose tissue setting in by sunset is creepy

when smacking of facts

these lied were soaking like a log for this long

Soap Mummy~!

Limp as a rag doll

Playing dead to live

she, an ancient art form survivor

took her position to the play of favourites

had she the notion to play house too

she said

she would have

she gave up on that

locked in this cage of dreams

she called her gaelor monster

Come See Me in The

The Chinese Water Torture Cell

An Act in Two Parts

Part One: Life

Part Two: Death

I'll be loosed by summer

which is only in a minute to this world

I'm a snake woman goddess

stuck in a snakepit life

the forest provided diversion

her clouded eyes smiled from her watery grave

she would cry

stillborn by watery sac

same backbone

some missing teeth

slinking slithering

she so sure almost surly

she snaked 'round

she kissed keys in Algiers

hidden treasure

until found by serendipity

she had slipped the knot of her locks

surly she'd been since birth

of all that bound her like a bird

angered her

and like sinew, she eschewed her sorry lot

around her neck she keyed-in her data entry

suddenly a automatic mule kick

her status left from oblivion

thinking it was he all along

thoroughly disguisted and through with him

the glass ceiling suddenly broke

gave way to the girls in pink

those haves and have-nots

she always could pick any lock

by and by

she always did

maybe he mistook her for a drunken doctor's daughter

and she thought it took

a master heart disaster decoder

a slight of hand magician's trick

to slowly flow the stop watch

but

she was transfixed by his transfiguration

eyes on him once more

now that she's finally freed

she wears a killer smile

a mile wide hole

they said

as the adipose reposes awhile

stayed clenched-fisted

beneath the cedars lined walls of your Titanic

radar informed me you made it in the nick of time

come home child

you were just missing never missed

she said

its

too soon to

come back to life

Ma

Happy Earth Day Mother Earth Gaia...Respect Earth: We are her children and she, our Mule Kicking Mother~

Please visit the place to be here were it all happens in amazing synchronicity; and sometimes not...http://www.magpietales.blogspot.ca/

How To Raise Your Vibration: What Is A Dark Night Of The Soul?

How To Raise Your Vibration: What Is A Dark Night Of The Soul?: The "Dark Night Of The Soul" is very common for people during the process  of soul transmutation or alchemy where all the stored darkness...
THANK-YOU SABRINA FOR THIS INFORMATION~! CHICCOREAL~

Mag #113 Hot Chocolate From Our Other Lands

Red Roofs, Marc Chagall, 1954

I feel like I am in way too deep

while away on vacation too

this partial sleep opened up fully

to reveille in your reveal

Hot chocolate heaven scent you

I sense you are here

as I cup my hands around your brew

having swum so close to you

feeling your every move

you are sleeping too

your shallow breath

awakens memories of us

having swung by your way

on the way to the forum

to hover over you

my lover-friend

and by the way

the pleasure is all mine

dancing so merrily along,

til dawn draws the lines

never too late for all night openers

sipping the sweet nectar of ma' honey's dreams

the essential acquiescence of your essence rare

slurping the last the tiniest droplets

love is Adam's dew

Sitting here watching you watch the sunset

slowly a bright solar rouge

the brightest carnelian red in the box

setting sun

the colour of the west highlights

your high cheekbones

your blue black hair darker than the damp night air

while in the east the night's lush curtain crashes

adding lightening and thunder cymbals

the finale swan song

sung full arpeggio in low hush tones 4/4

it is the forties swing time

the bright red night alights

the orbiting disc does ignites

cover us like a tablecloth

a flicking ember of remembrance

Les heures we spent in Our Parisian cafe

where you always ordered

hot chocolate I called you on the phone

you melted in my mouth

powerful pinwheels of light

twinkle like Tinkerbell's wand

whoosh; do you feel it?

Peter Pan's magic begins

afloat into the street

eyes enlarge reading

saucy leaves in saucers

you were perfume suspended

atomized by the evening news

frozen forms waved from the rooftops

and I at the top of my lungs screamed

"I am so in LOVE"

the pleasure is all mine

you cried

your tears ran down the drainage pipes

and I captured the flotilla of your emerging essence

so mote it be; it is mine as well

these swirl of undulating energies

captured in our cocoon room

lift up up the curtain higher and higher

float to my will my darling

we feel this fullness impregnate us

surround sound LOVE vibrations

528 MHz

Chopin, to our chagrin

still tinkles the ivories

making us swoon and coil like tender tendrils

so in love

the moonlight at the midnight velvet hour

blankets us all in with a nuptial kiss n' bliss

so tantalizingly our read in bed book of Kama sutra

adorns us avatars gods and goddesses of the affable light.

savouring the night's many flavours

saving all this exotic eternity

from our other lands to repeat

in lingerie we linger sipping

imbibe as we do, in delight, in these sweet things

petting our French poodle

we have no substance

this tantalizing nectar of our dreams

our only sustenance is LOVE

♥♥♥♥♥

Chiccoreal

Thanks for the memories Tess Kincaid...Join us here for a taste of fine painting;

http://www.magpietales.blogspot.ca/

Mag #112 Porridge Worlds

image: djajakarta

little bits

feathers-flying

alerting colour

flies in the face of fear

of banished beauty

a blistering banality

as eyes scan

stormy skies

the action

remains

dead

lulled to sleep

dulled by an uneasiness

no nonsense senses

refresh a new place

walla walla site

even after freed

to return

sea to sea very deep

this is the big sleep

bottom of the dream

when merging seems

splice and dice

blending homogeneous

porridge worlds

Chiccoreal

Thanks Tess Kincaid for the above dreamy Art prompt. Please dream on over here; http://www.magpietales.blogspot.ca/

Mag #111 "JUST SIT ON IT!"

JUST SIT ON IT!

Did you take leave of you senses?

Finally decided to go on Paternity Leave?

It's not unnatural

It's Mother Nature

Telling You

You are doing a great job Dad

and a great service

to avians everywhere

so keep up the good work~!

To the Red Red Robin who Came

Bob Bob Bobbing along

nine months ago

You know it would take time

To hatch a plan, or a nest for that matter

So please Settle down...take a break

become a stay-at-home Dad

Hatch that nest of future's potential wings

Take up and rally for the cause

Relinquish yourself to your fatherly duties

You can do it

Just sit on it~!

Did you make enough wiggle room Robin?

for all those wormy wigglers later

will be squirming underneath you

and you will feed each one's subtle movement

once the eggs start to break open

And when all those hungry mouths

are open and waiting wanting

you're hoping

wish they'd all fly the coup soon

cause you feel you have more important work to do

so we stuff and fluff them never ruffle them

as we do want to make them feel full of themselves

make them proud of who they are

fed by Mama and Papa in turn

each act of regurgitation loaded with love

Papa, did you create a hotspot

a circle of love to cradle and to incubate

those vulnerable fledglings

Gently you glide your feather duster

gilded downy feathery tuffs derriere

but do not ruffle the sleeping grouses

who want to make birdhouses of their own

one day

tactically you must sit but not squash

the eggs underneath you

like a flat of eggs underneath a steamroller

so just sit still now, hold your breath if you have to

folds of feathery softness you must incorporate

hot spots to warm the nest and the test

and keep the half-dozen or so a consistent temperature

a steady warmth of love

from the top of your beak to the bottom of your claws

as you create this temperate body heat of 98.1F

and hum a happy tune in your heart

never squawk

You've now found brooding to be an art

And when all those hungry mouths

are wide open and chirping "aw"

and there will seem to be too many

all wanting to be fed at the same time

with peckish fashion

the early bird gets the worm

so time to create a downy nest

you had one too, remember?

kick of your shoes

Robin

you are going to stay a spell

I will help you

to raise your fledglings

in the way they should go

we will give them roots and wings

and all kinds of good things

and after that

then you can go back to work

~Chiccoreal~

IMAGE BY PARKE HARRISON

Thanks for hatching this really good egg of a prompt Tess Kincaid of The Mag...go here for further

eggs that edge you on~!http://www.magpietales.blogspot.ca/