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Cherylyn Vardi
A Renaissance of Reason and Rhyme
A Renaissance of Reason and Rhyme

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Apple Cider Vinegar Tea / Elixir of Life

A finger of fresh ginger root (diced or sliced whichever shape you prefer at the bottom of your cup)

1 tsp. of raw honey (optional)

1 tblsp. apple cider vinegar (unfiltered and unpasteurized)

1 tblsp. freshly squeezed lemon juice

Put the kettle on. Take out your favorite tea cup or mug (mine is humugnous) and put all the ingredients in, ginger first. When the water comes to a boil, pour it into the cup. Let steep for a minute or two. Enjoy the new day that you are about to embark on.

When my body is in motion, thoughts play a crude game of hide and seek where I'm "it". I try to tag at least one of them before they duck into the dark convolutions of cortex never to be heard from again. But, if I'm at the top of my game I catch one, if I am lucky I tag and bag two.

Today I am holding firm to a thought that many who read me may be inhibited by. But, nevertheless, I will dare and share. What would it be like to die for a day? To step out of my mortal coil and toil; pen to page - to be and not to be.

I wonder about dying - not nightmarishly or morbidly rather curiously and inquisitively. Is death an Ithaca of sorts, where when we reach its shores we discover that our journey outweighed what lies beyond the pale? Do we die a number of deaths in the course of a lifetime? Would layers of these autumn leaves and poetries come to mind only to vanish through the chinks of time?

Would I be privy to the possibilities of what could be, and disregard the impossibilities of what is?

What if I could step out my skin and observe the architecture that houses my within. Would I recognize a Me? Is their reflection without perception? Am I the Me that I see? Is the little girl who I lived in once still within reach? Does she reside beside other past tides; the teenage girl, the 20 year old, the mother, the wife, the ex, the who I became and who I am to become?

Are my thoughts a chemical reaction? Are my memories a contraction or redaction of truth?

As I look do I like what I see? Words from a past page come back to me:

A Wrinkle in Time

No longer does she clad herself
In days of faded dye,

Patterned fabrics of yesterdays
Unravel threaded whys

Teen embroidered dawns
Intricately woven into dusks

Garments of adolescence hang
In closets of nascent lust

Seams of naked truths remain
As wordless as a sigh

Conforming thoughts crochet themselves
Into acrylated lies

Calicoed cries of consequence
Stack questions on a shelf

Interfaced reality
Weaves wires of a vintage self
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Jack and Jill hit the campaign trail
To fetch a bushel of voters
Jack fell down for being a clown
And Jill went Galluping forward

Up got Jack from his stumbling act
As fast as he could caper
To Bannon's tent hoping he'll fix the dent
With conspiracy theories and slander

© Frecklewood / Cherylyn Vardi
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Jack and Jill hit the campaign trail
To fetch a bushel of voters
Jack fell down for being a clown
And Jill went Galluping forward

Up got Jack from his stumbling act
As fast as he could caper
To Bannon's tent hoping he'll fix the dent
With conspiracy theories and slander

© Frecklewood / Cherylyn Vardi
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Iced Ginger Mint Tea
Iced Ginger Mint Tea
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Iced Ginger Mint Tea
Iced Ginger Mint Tea
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Iced Green Chai and Lime / Wasabi Wisdom

4 cups of water
2 inches of ginger root sliced (peeled if not organic)
4 cardamom pods (lightly crushed)
4 cinnamon sticks
2 tablespoons loose green tea leaves
1 or more stevia leaf/ves (optional)

In a medium saucepan, put sliced ginger root, crushed cardamom pods, cinnamon sticks. Pour four cups of water, cover, and bring to a boil. Lower the heat, cover and simmer for 5-10 minutes.

Turn off the heat, add loose green tea and let steep for two minutes. Strain into pitcher that can hold hot water and let cool. Refrigerate for a few hours.

Pour cold tea into tall glasses with ice and a twist of lime

As the spice of the tea mingles with the flavor of lime, add this wasabi of wisdom to the folds of your mind.

Socrates demonstrated long ago, that the truly free individual is free only to the extent of her/his mastery. While those who will not govern themselves are condemned to find masters to govern over them.

In our writing world of poetry and tea; what is the difference between those who are "good" and those who are masters?

The answer is threefold - practice, practice, practice.

Deliberate Practice and Passion towards Perfection is highly repetitive, mentally demanding work that is often unpleasant, but undeniably effective.

It is this self-discipline that separates world-class poets and tea artisans from everyone else.
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Birth of a River

mute starkness
an exhausted desert
blue sky white night
flesh on flesh
marital rite
in heat, soaked in sweat
body to body
a rapturous duet

E = mc2
inception, conception
stardust fusion
hydrogen, carbon, water
molecular confusion
blueprint biology
chromosome couples 23
patterns of genes
chemically a poetry

brain, bones and brawn
a paragon
peptides and proteins
enzymes of emotion
future feelings
neural commotion
two bound bodies a
hormonal orchestration
mother and child
prepare for separation
birth and beyond

muscle contractions
endorphins release
pain in action

Lamaze liturgy
breathe in breathe out
breathe in…
lungs grasp at the deep
midwife shouts

head crowns
body bound
by body
head in head out
reluctance to breach
I hold the world at bay
dining on time
stubborn to move

breath in breathe out
breath clings to the deep
midwife shouts

my head crowns
body bound
won't let go
not yet
green fluids fill my lungs
stealing the vowels off
my tongue
breath of life
my first fight
grandstanding and

silence shatters
midwife chatters
my mom and dad
sigh in relief

doctors repair
third degree tears
sealing in an emptiness
my delivery has made
needle in needle out
I see her through my
transparent box
wrapped up like
a tubular sock

her grace an unfamiliar face
takes my breath away. Awkwardly,
she descends from her bed
hospital high
a torturous

pain reigns
I sense it in
s… l… o… w… n… e… s… s…




I make amends
our shared space erased
me and mom have just begun
my mouth to her ear
she hears,
a river

I breathe in and out
a handful of vowels float
on the afternoon rays of
my birth day
from thunder to dusk
day in day out

© Cherylyn Vardi
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The Bonsai Tree  (

In an Arboretum of towering trees 
The major attraction is the topiary
Visitors flock to this botanical art
Deaf to the tidings of twisted bark

Dwarfed gnarled confined and cramped 
Refined deformity of stunted chance
Grotesque and beastly in shape and form
Bonsai is an art of social norm

Social artists train and prune 
Saplings from their earthen womb
Bestial trunks and root formations
Haunt landscapes of the imagination

Bonsai is a fusion of ancient beliefs
Grafted dogma on nascent trees
Curtailed and customized to social needs 
Individuals curved by Gardener's creed

Curated and cultured refined and groomed
Stripped to bare elements free will consumed
Prevented from growing towards natural light
The Bonsai has no conception of its personal plight

Chosen saplings are allowed to grow 
Outside of pots in restricted rows
They are the ones who will one day be
Future Gardeners of Bonsai trees

Eastern thought and philosophy 
Claim Bonsai is a ritual of harmony
Soul and nature intertwined
An art form of man to mimic the divine 

Yet how can such a claim be true when
Gardeners strip saplings of their natural due
The artist duplicates a natural rite  
By manipulating a mind of intellectual might

A Bonsai container is independent of earth 
Separation of soul from body at birth
Though social allegiance may be a practical need 
Deformation of Self turns flower to weed 

©Frecklewood 2014   
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Infuse your afternoon tea with leaves from a new collection of Peppered Poetry. On January 21st, 2016 will relaunch with added recipes of rhythm and rhyme, tea, tisanes, spices and thyme. 
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Dance at Dawn Tea

4 cups water
1/4 cup fresh grated ginger
1 tsp loose green tea (optional)
1 lemon sliced (the rind adds a touch of divine)
1 tbsp honey or 1 freshly bruised or dried stevia leaf
a pinch of cayenne pepper

Pour 4 cups of water in a saucepan with grated ginger, sliced lemon and green tea (optional). Bring to a boil, then let simmer for 20 minutes. Turn off heat, pour tea through strainer into a glass, ceramic or porcelain teapot. Add honey or stevia and a pinch of cayenne pepper. Bring to a simmer. Steep for three minutes.

This cup of tea will unravel the threads of night, and the rays of Dawn will weave a fabric of light.

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