another acceptance

Another poem accepted for this New Year!    Look for it Soon here!


http://madrushmag.wordpress.com/2012/01/10/mad-rush-1-lineup/

unbound CONTENT is proud to announce the launch of the last new book of 2012: Captured Moments, by Ellenelizabeth Cernek! You've read her poetry at vox, and in this collection you'll get to read more and see her beautiful art which graces the cover. 

What do I love about this book? It's our first book of romance poetry! As I write in the book's Introduction, "The poetry of Ellenelizabeth Cernek definitely falls into the category of romance poetry. You'll know it from first read, just like we sometimes know love at first sight." Curious? Well, there's only one thing to do about that: order a copy!

Captured Moments is available in print here: https://www.createspace.com/3741270 

Christmas Cactus

On a starry cold winter's night

A small cactus which has never bloomed

Drinks in the light

Of the Bethlehem’s star.

As the Glorious Light

Bathes the world with Joy

A small baby boy

Was born in a manger

The small cactus rejoices

And Blooms

All the color of the rainbow

In homage to the new born King.

Merry Christmas

Poetry and Music

In the cold snow,

poetry and music,

fills the quiet,

from the hands

of the child they call Shahenda,

Magical melodies woven,

as the wind inhales,

forever holding her songs in its breath,

until Shahenda beckons them,

to fill the world with peace. 

12/7/2011 © Ellenelizabeth Cernek

New Home For Christmas

After the fire, being displace and living in hotels for more than 3 months, we are now settled in a home in Sedona, AZ.  It took us a long time to find the right place for the family and our large dogs.  But settling in here is like a stepping onto another planet.  They roll up the sidewalks by 9:00 pm, and us being from the east coast, we are just getting ready to go out at this time.  There is a lot to adjust too, but the aha factor is like when you take a heavy sigh and release it.  Every turn in the roads around here there is something else to smile about.  So being displaced here is not as stressful as waiting for the house to be rebuilt  in New Jersey.  Thank God for J's middle son, who is taking care of the details of the rebuild.  Any additional stress for J, could mean bad news.

So the new home for Christmas will be here!

It’s Been A Year Now

Keeping Face for you: Eleanor Ruth Cernek: RIP 7/16/10

Eleanor was a fierce, passionate, strong and loving woman, true to the zodiac sign of Leo she was born under. She was a loving, wife to Martin, Mother of 4, NanNa of 4, and Great Nan to 2.

She was a dedicated volunteer to many causes true to her heart. If we as children didn’t find her home we needn’t look any further than St John’s. The children of St John’s school knew her as “Mrs.C” the hotdog lady, a second grade CCD teacher; she was a constant fixture at St John’s School. The many rummage sales, Barn dances, Craft Fairs, Penny Auctions, are too numerous to count, but everyone could count of Eleanor helping in one way or another. She had a nightly ritual of crocheting, and would donate her Afghans for these sales. She was the president of the Rosary Society several times, where she organized fund raisers of various and unique opportunities, one I remember well was her Lever-brother’s soap testing. So if any of you use “All” detergent our family tested it.

When Father Tom need help to thank the altar boys, Eleanor suggested taking them for a picnic to Interstate Park. There she cooked hot dogs and hamburger, while Father Tom would play ball or assisted them in fishing or crabbing in the Hudson River.

She was a den mother for the boy scouts, and leader to the girl scouts. She always had wonderful crafting ideas for the children. She would get Ivory soap for the boys to carve, and would teach the girls how to crochet along with other activities. She worked hard for both the boys and girls to achieve their unique badges, which would include marching in the parades, and hikes at Palisades Interstate Park.

The local Kids of 4^th avenue were special to my mother and father. Having the deli, and working 6 days a week, my father would always take Eleanor and the children on outings every Sunday after church. They would go to Lake Welch, Bear Mountain, and Interstate Park just to mention a few places. They would include many of their children’s friends along for the fun. The more the merrier was their motto. We were never short of space for anyone who wanted to come along. They loved sharing their love with all. After the passing of Marty, in 1977, Eleanor ran the deli and the Kids of 4^th Avenue would look out for her when she closed the store at 10PM. No one was allowed to mess with Mrs. C. I know she was thankful in having them hang out on that street corner keeping her safe.

Eleanor loved the beach. She was fortunate enough to have a small place in Toms River to call the summer home. Summer would start early the years she owned the house. We would open the season on Mother’s Day each year celebrating Motherhood. Eleanor, my sister Jane and I would have wonderful time on Mother’s Day at the beloved beach house. Most of the Mother’s Days in my memory were warm and sunny walking along the sand, and along the boardwalk of Sea Side. Even if you needed a jacket it was a warm and loving day we spent together.

Eleanor would open her summer home to many people throughout the years she owned it.

The small private beach on the bay at the end of the Gary Road in Toms River was home for my sons Sean and Dennis and my nieces Ellyanne and Jennifer for their summers. Eleanor taught them to swim, build sand castles; crab and fish along with letting them grow up into the wonderful adults she was so proud of. I believe they would call her awesome.

We would not stop going down to Toms River well into the early winter. We loved to walk along the boardwalk during the Christmas season. Cold and bundling the grandchildren in snowsuits, we walked and walked and walked. Eleanor was an avid walker all of her live, I believe that is what keep her slim and trim.

The numerous stories each one of her family and friends have are laced with love and kindness that was genuine and unique from only Eleanor.

I believe she is now at peace with the only man she ever loved, my father Marty. They are now together again, watching over all below with love.

We were blessed to have had Eleanor as Mother, and Grandmother and friend in our lives, and we pray that God welcomes her into heaven with open arms.

I Cry For Her

 
I carry gifts to my dear friend and her sons, from their wayward husband and father. Alha is a friend of my husband first, on meeting Sophia his wife, a beautiful friendship bonded between us, which spans across the seas. Now for almost eight years, her husband lives in New Jersey and she and her three boys in Egypt.
I carry a closed white plastic bag for her from this wayward man, for who she has been waiting these long eight years to return. With care she opens this white bag to find all the pictures of herself. I feel her pain swell within her, yet she closes the bag, and continues to speak, stands tall, and does not allow her tears to invade her eyes. Yet I know they are in her heart. I feel like I have betrayed her – yet I knew not of the contents of this tiny white plastic bag. If I had known, I would have thrown it in his face. How dare he do this to this beautiful and wonderful woman? And to do this by giving it to me is unforgivable.
She stands tall and bids good bye
And I cry for her.
©8/6/1999 Ellenelizabeth Cernek-Kashk

Footprints of a Wildfire

I will taunt you

So you will follow

I will caress you

'Till you are consumed

I will love you

Leaving only embers

I will die for you

Extinguishing the

Footprints of my wildfire

© 6/14/2011 Ellenelizabeth Cernek-Kashk

Inspired by:

Aquill Relle

Ty Drescher

"Looking at the Ground Instead"

Maybe it's my eyes that are too blue -
like portholes of some sinking ship,
black holes that became whirlpools.
You don't dare to stare at the swirling debris, 
shrugging off the tremors and opened void- 

Darkness is a vacuum. 
You are a flicker in the footprints of a wildfire.
If we kissed, you could taste his ashes.

New Published list of my poetry as of June 2011

 Feel free to visit my poems and explore these wonderful websites!

Roof Deck (pg 9)

http://issuu.com/pigeonbike/docs/pb_and_coffee

I Can’t Think  (Scroll Down)

http://www.aquillrelle.com/maganythinggoes.htm#Topopo

According To (Scroll Down)

 http://www.aquillrelle.com/magpoetrymishmash.htm#p10

Dead Chicken (Scroll Down)

http://www.aquillrelle.com/magpoetrymishmash.htm#p10

Beach Reverie
http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.aquillrelle.com%2Fpublishingpictures.htm%2357&h=cae87etQ2wRERVTsg3DGrkRDltw

Aquillrelle
anthology100, book one   ©2011

The winners of Aquillrelle's first Publishing Contest are all included in this book. Oh, the beauty of these non-professional voices limited in their expression by nothing but their personal talent, avidity of word and poetry of heart. ISBN 978-1-4457-9681-9

New Accident

http://poemblog.voxpoetica.com/2011/02/19/new-accident/trackback.aspx

Balancing On Line

http://poemblog.voxpoetica.com/2011/04/26/balancing-on-line/trackback.aspx

PROUD OF:

Winning entry is included in the Aquillrelle 100 anthology:
Beach Reverie Page 72
http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/aquillrelle---anthology-100-book-one/14918990?productTrackingContext=search_results/search_shelf/center/2

To Be Attached

To Be Attached

 

God has given

 

All

 

A rainbow of colors

 

To draw upon

 

It is our choice

 

On what side of the spectrum

 

We utilize.

 

To combine,

 

And color

 

The world around us

 

Producing one’s aura

 

To be attached

 

To God’s brilliant light.

Mangos

Where did god place the first Mango?

Did it come from the mythical garden of Paradise?

Were they green skinned, with luscious, sweet orange pulp?

As found in Egypt?

Or were they pale orange skinned, with vibrant orange souls?

As found in Mexico?

How many mangos did Adam & Eve eat?

How many kinds were in the garden of Paradise?

Did they eat them all?

Before she got into

What kind of Apple?

God Grant me

God grant me the insight

To find patience in other’s wrong doings

God grant me the time

To find love in myself

God grant me the silence

To find kind words, when others are judgmental

God grant me the kindness

To find good in all who wrong me

God grant me the knowledge

To find resolution in other’s plights

God grant me the love

To find beauty in other’s faults

God grant me the spirit

To find flight within other’s degrading

God grant me the quiet

To find your beauty around me

Art Online

http://oneshotpoetry.blogspot.com/2010/09/moondustwriters-thursday-featuring.html

Got Poetry Prompt #8

Anticipation

Wings fly around a world of make believe

Through green dells, soaring above rust colored mountains

Where dreams manifest to reality, from childhood tales

Of happily ever after which was shoved down your throat

Flying through this world of make believe

The Love Monkey dances in freedom

Within his cage he know as home

Being born of captivity knowing no true jungle

Daily dreams manifesting to your reality

Giving blue and pink iridescent wings upon your shoulders

Flight as they glisten in the dawn of every new day

Anticipating happily ever after would show up today

©

Reupholstering

You reclaimed them

By curb diving
Caught drive by
Causing the need
To come back
With a van

Home they came
Soap and water
To reclaim shine
Scrub away dust
Broom in hand

Quick to market
To choose design
Following your motif
Asian print found
Nervous to cut

Fabric so rear
How to do
You didn’t dare
Phone a friend

Graced to answer
To take your
Dare, I came
Sharing artistic knowledge

Fabric lay out
Pink chalk in hand
Choose the scenes
For each seat

Easier than thought
Never before done
Only seen on TV
We proceeded to
Remove their covers
Creating new seats

Tribute To World Trade Center

Glistening

Oriental children close up

To the ebony plateau

Gaze at the thin layer

Of water gliding over

The lobbies sculpture

Hands out stretched, smiling

They must touch it

Giggling in glee of amazement

As they run upon

The ebony plateau

Glistening

As the water glides

Center Plaza

At the center is a ball

Of crimson and ebony

As water flows upon the sculpture

It is surrounded

Among the man made walls

Towering the highest in the land

Casting shadows, as the day proceeds

Many visitors pass

This man made wonder

Foreigners, locals, commuters

Everyday, at many different times

See such a sight in awe

Causing all who pass, to stop and stare

Embedding it’s self

Within their minds forever

Is a crimson and ebony sculpture ball

In the center plaza of New York City’s

World Trade Center

World Trade Center Wind

Creepy sounds the wind

Crawling through the World Trade Center

Sounding like space creatures

Hearing – Listening

Darkness falls upon the City

Black Out

Creepy sounds the wind

Whoever needs to hear

They are only to listen

To find the

World Trade Center’s Creatures

Observing the wind

While one watches the Center’s sculpture

Shaped, like a darker world

Let one’s imagination form

What the World Trade Center’s Creatures are

Truly to be seen only in darkness

While listening

At the World Trade Center

In a city wide Black out

I hear these creatures

Or is it just the wind

Newscaster Announces:

“The World Trade Center has been hit

By an unidentified airplane.”

The world watches flames in disbelief,

Astonishment, grief, this is insane

A newscaster yells in the background

During a live broadcast

“What the hell is that?”

As the world watches the second plane

Intentionally crash into Tower Two

Engulfing flames spew from the Towers

Darkness swallows the New York Skyline

The newscaster announces:

“The Pentagon is hit”

The World holds it’s breath and watches

Within an hour Tower Two collapsea

Then Tower One,

Lost are the Twins of the City

Thousands lay trapped dying or dead

As the world watches

The flames consume

Changing the Skyline

And the World forever

Vivid Images Left

A police car’s windshield blown out

A man jumping from the building

An amateur video depicting

Half of an American Flag

Hanging off a twisted lamp post

A mangled fire truck

A woman covered in soot

A fire fighter crying

The World Changed Forever

Fire That Echoes

Within the silence of a foggy brain

Colors burst out of the blackness

Within the shadows of the iridescent words

Echoes the glance of fire

Silver pours like a tear drops

Never will it douse

The glances and chances

Of the fire that echoes

Within the silence of a foggy brain

As I set the world on fire

Road Warrior

The dark cold tar

Glistens from the light rain

I must follow the yellow broken line

Before it was a quest

It was an obsession.

Finding my road’s end,

Is to start from the beginning

Surfing the net,

To unwind

Secrets that began

Before my time.

Discovering that the beginning has

Just turned to a Dead end,

Where the secrets died there

Only last year

And never the secret revealed

To any of her peers.

So the dark cold tar

Glistens from the

Light raining tears,

As the yellow broken line

Beckons me on

In life’s unanswered fears,

To continue to be.

Balancing on line

In the glooming time

Where day exhales the

Last of the oranges

And the night inhale

The violets of darkness

There you will find

Where reality and magic

Can both be seen

In the dawn

Where night exhales the

Last of ebony

And the day inhales

The first of gold

Where magic and reality

Both will find

Me balancing on the line

Where one can hear rainbows