Monthly Archives: November 2017

Universal Cure

 

Universal Cure

For all the world’s diseases and all life’s little ills
they’ve been inventing medicines, elixirs, syrups, pills.
But those crafty bacteria, viruses and germs
keep running on ahead of us as we come to terms
with ways to counteract them. They’re crafty little mites
who somehow slip inside of us through food or air or bites.
So in spite of all our science—our test tubes and our beakers,
all that malevolent mini-world just don their little sneakers
and keep on evolving a little bit ahead.
Enough to keep us sneezing or roiling in our bed.
And as for a panacea—a cure to conquer all—
although you have not asked for it, still I’ll make a call.

I’m rather sure that there will never be a
panacea.

 

 

The prompt is panacea.

Canna Lily: Flower of the Day, Nov 5, 2017

 

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For Cee’s Flower Prompt.

The Day Cracked Open Like an Egg

The Day Cracked Open Like an Egg

The rain falls
fresh as cucumbers
on cobblestones and tiles,
the dust of summer
washed from crevasses
and curves of stone and clay.

The air is cleansed
of the scent of primavera,
jacaranda
and flamboyan trees
and the whole world
breathes easily again.

Clouds dried up
by sunlight,
the silent birds
are flushed
from their covering leaves
and open in chorus

to the booming crack
of cohetes, splitting the air
in celebration
of Saint John the Baptist
who has baptized all
this day.

 

Primavera and jacaranda are the names of colorful flowering Mexican trees. Flamboyan is the Spanish name for a royal poinciana tree.  Cohetes are very noisy aerial fireworks of the caliber of cherry bombs. This is a rewrite of a poem written two and a half years ago. The prompt today is egg.

Sunday Trees

Happy 6th Anniversary, Becca’s Sunday Trees.

Hibiscus: Flower of the Day, Nov 4, 2017

 

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For Cee’s Flower Prompt.

Almost Ready to Stand-in

Almost Ready to Stand-in

If I had a bit more moxie,
I’d be Kardashian by proxy.
I’d be less studious, more frocksie
and trade these garments long and boxy
for a mini dress that’s foxy,
wear heels less Oxfordy and soxy,
hang out with girls named Tess or Roxie,
more cool and definitely less poxy.
I’d be a cockette of the walksie!

 

 

The prompt today is proxy.

Neighbors

No time to write this morning as we are heading out to Alabama to visit (coincidence) my good friends and former next-door-neighbors  in Mexico. Yay Tony and Allenda!!!  In lieu of fresh words, here are three old posts that dealt with neighbors:

https://judydykstrabrown.com/2016/06/21/companionshi/

https://judydykstrabrown.com/2015/12/10/flight-of-fortune/

https://judydykstrabrown.com/2015/12/02/vecinoscees-fun-foto-challenge/

The prompt today is neighbors.

 

“Simmer” (Unlove Spell)

 

Unlove Spell

For relief from suffering­­­ and a cure for love,
pluck a feather from a dying dove.
Press the feather in a hemlock crotch,
then fill a cauldron with his favorite scotch.

Wait for dark and stormy weather
to stew the hemlock crotch and feather.
Then add as listed all given below,
stirring steady with flame turned low.

First you write your lover’s name
twelve times and then once again.
Shred this page of caustic prose
with a thorn you’ve pried from a withered rose.

Add the paper, shred on shred,
recalling what he’s done and said.
Cast in the pot, till your mind is freed,
each slight recalled, each dreadful deed.

Add a patch you’ve torn from his favorite chair
and a single strand of his pubic hair,
wedding pictures of Niagara,
nose trimmers, hair dye and Viagra.

Add his hernia girdle and knee-length socks,
his shoes, his T-shirts and his jocks.
Cut all his pants off at the knees
and add them to his soggy T’s.

Stir the cauldron round and round.
If music’s playing, turn up the sound.
Sing along to the lyrics of
song after song of broken love.

“Don’t come home a cheatin’ with a lovin’ on your mind.”
Let these lyrics fill your thoughts—or others of their kind.
Ring up his mother on the phone. Say what he’s done to you.
Record her comments, rip out the tape, and add it to the brew.

Call all his girlfriends, all his buddies, everyone on your block.
Tell them that he’s impotent and has a little cock.
Write a note of what you’ve done and tape it to the pot.
Turn off the flame. Walk out the door. Forget the whole damn lot!!!

This is a rewrite of a poem written 5 years ago, but the image is new. I didn’t notice until after I’d taken this photo how appropriate the name of the pot was!!! The prompt today was simmer.

Peek-a-Boo (Sneak Peeks)

Yes, you can enlarge all the photos by clicking on any one of them.  Go ahead.  Peek closer!

The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge prompt is peek.

Mum’s the Word: Flower of the Day, Nov. 1, 2017

 

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For Cee’s Flower of the Day prompt.