Craig’s List Confessional

Earlier today, I published a poem and at the end, left a pile of unused words that were free for the taking.  Christine Goodnough rifled through them and came up with this poem, then left a free-for-the-taking list of unused words of her own, leaving a link to my refuse pile as well.  I have dipped into each bunch of words again and used them all in the below poem, with the exception of the few left at the end that I pass on to any reader willing to make use of them in a poem.  You’ll find our combined leftovers at the end of my poem and a link to to Christine’s poem above

 Craig’s  List Confessional

I’d like a mirror so I can see
if I display felicity
when someone whispers in my ear
the name of one I once held dear.

I know not what my heart may feel,
what passions I might dare repeal
now that my head is ruling me
instead of love for somebody

so long departed––no longer here
for so many a long-lost year.
If I could paint a picture of
the countenance of long-lost love

in monotone or multi-tones,
in stereo or  monophones,
I hesitate to admit that
I fear the portrait might fall flat.

How often it has been  my ploy
to act withdrawn or bored or coy,
as though the long-lapsed love I bore
is what steers my grieving core.

But, in truth, duplicity
is what in all simplicity
guides my actions and my thought
and turns me into love’s robot.

With paint cans colored various hues,
why do I always choose the blues,
rebuffing each potential woo
and dropping out of courtship’s queue?

And so, if love is not a ruse––
a mere excuse for whom to choose,
I stand here gawking, open wide,
with no place left in which to hide.

Respectability’s passe,
and pride too dear a price to pay;
for staying safe in grief’s tight room
is burial before the tomb.

And so my dear, this poem you view?
Pretend that it’s addressed to you
and join me in complicity.
Perhaps shared words can set us free.

I’m not a girl.  You are no boy.
This poem is not a word-stuffed toy.
Should you respond with words that match,
it’s possible that we will catch

another chance to reach and choose
and maybe this time we won’t lose
the golden ring that does not bind.
This time we may find love is kind!

Okay, I dug deeply into Christine’s leftovers and rifled through mine as well.  This is what is left in the poetic grab bag.  Can anyone make use of the rest of our cast-offs?  Here is what is left to you: 

ooze booze cruise who’s whose choose lose  news pews poos cues sues twos  woos youse 
doozie floozie twozie boo  goo hue loo moo new poo   sue soo sioux too to you  What a spectacle! not respectable  


16 thoughts on “Craig’s List Confessional

  1. Anton Wills-Eve

    Now honestly Judy, did you think for a minute I could resist this? My verse is contrived and terrible but I HAD to do it. Great idea for a prompt. BTW it took me 41 minutes straight through and 12 mins editing. I might as well go out with a bang! 🙂 love Anton ps: should I put it up as a post as well?


    From his dead corpse, I watched slowly ooze
    Liquid detritus. It was all that constant booze
    At last leaving him on his binge crazed cruise.
    But tell me, honestly, does anyone know who’s
    Responsible for giving liquor to anyone whose
    Alcoholic record gives him the right to choose
    Such an end? Sure, the cruise liner would lose
    A few bucks not fold up, but that’s hardly news.
    Then a burial at sea, praying in the chapel pews,
    Before they swabbed the decks, and all his poos
    Were potted like black balls hit by billiard cues.
    A rich chap’s paid for revels, they know he sues
    So the next night couples, clinging tight in twos
    Can get their fill of sweetly well rehearsed woos,
    In a true romantic setting.“Aw gee, honey, youse
    De only gal I love.” French, she pouts “ Doozie
    Uzzer gals mean nussing, eh?Ave you no floozie
    ‘Idden away?” He swears they’re only a twozie.
    Jean-Paul creeps up behind them shouting “Boo”
    Her suitor spins round, slipping on a piece of goo
    Unseen, and falls. His face, a radish coloured hue,
    Makes her laugh loudly as she hastens to the loo.
    A very drunken Englishman thinks, the silly moo
    (Stupid cow) to lose the chance to buy all the new
    Ou’fits she needs. Also, if she treated him like poo
    She could claim it was ‘is fault and e’entually sue
    For di’orce and make a few more bucks quite soo’.
    He was so drunk he hailed a passing young sioux
    “ is it a fancy dress do?” then falling overboard too.
    All the revellers on the cruise were then invited to
    Raise their glasses to sing “happy birthday to you”
    To the captain, pants at half mast, what a spectacle!
    A laugh for the passengers but really not respectable.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. lifelessons Post author

      Ha!!! Boy, didn’t you have fun doing that? See where having a list of words to fulfill takes you? I may have ruined your left brain for life. This has been such a fun impromptu challenge and I must say yours is the very zaniest. Thanks for playing with us, Anton. I especially appreciate how you were able to work in the Sioux in a totally logical way. You did seem to enjoy making use of the word “poo” a bit too much, though, which makes me wonder if you are regressing, my dear.I also love how you seem to be getting a bit drunk along with the protagonists and antagonists, so quite soo’ you are leaving off syllables. Don’t you think this was a better mental exercise than crossword puzzles or sudoku?

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Anton Wills-Eve

    Judy, that soo’ was a cheat because I don’t know what soo means, sounds like or could even find in a US dictionary. I introduced the drunk so I could get away with murder 🙂 at least I threw him overboard! the whole challenge was great bit of fun something I often do, select a list of words in rhyming pairs,write them down vertically and then write sensible stories in front of them. good mental exercise but what made you think I had a left side to my brain? Anton



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