Monthly Archives: September 2019

Uprooted

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Uprooted

“Can you get even closer to the tree?” he said—so I went inches from the trunk of the tallest of the trees, crowding the fern that reached tentative tentacles from the tree’s shade into a ray of sun that escaped the fast-collecting clouds. “I’ll protect you,” he had said years ago, when we declared our union. But now, in this time of the approaching storm, I wondered about both tree and one who over the years had been in turn protector and threat. In times of gentle rain, a shield. In times more volatile, that sudden bolt that left bruised places easily hidden. I saw the tree’s scar, devoid of bark, burned at the edges––that place now easily overlooked in the shadows. And I moved away from the tree, walking with new confidence to the car. Uprooted, finally, after so many years.

 

Italicized line is from Sharon Olds’ poem, “Pine Tree Ode.” For the dVerse Poets Pub prompt–to develop a prose piece of 144 words making use of a line from another poet’s poem about a tree. Go HERE to read what other writers did with this prompt or to participate yourself.

 

Hibiscus: FOTD, Sept 17, 2019

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For Cee’s FOTD

Dental Intermissions

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Image from Pinterest.

Dental Intermissions                                  

There’s nothing quite so fundamental
when it comes to matters dental
as the fact that teeth gone missing
mar the esthetics of kissing.

It’s doubtful that a dental gap
would land a lass upon the lap
of any lad whose reminiscing
will be done with s’s hissing.

Potential lovers tend to hate
suitors of the toothless state.
Better they should duplicate
those teeth that happened to vacate

those facial places deep inside
the mouths wherein they should reside.
Teeth should be natives of the jaws
that reside within the maws

of suitors that might deign to woo—
to hug and kiss and bill and coo.
In short, what lass does less than censure
a suitor who forgets his denture?

 

Prompt words today are missing, duplicate, native, fundamental and doubtful.

Hibiscus: FOTD, Sep 16, 2019

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For Cee’s FOTD prompt.

Storage

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Storage

I’m not your typical hoarder. I don’t save balls of string.
Five foot stacks of newspapers really aren’t my thing.
Boxes of garage sale items do not line my halls.
Jumbles of castoff treasures do not obscure my walls.

My collection is more upbeat and easier to store.
I have thousands of them and room for plenty more.
And lest you think my hoarding is of objects more absurd,
I’ll tell you my obsession is simply for the “word.”

Those who have collected them all throughout the ages
are lexicographers and scribes, poets, writers, sages.
Sometimes they swirl around my head and leave it in a fog,
so when I run out of room, I store them in this blog.

Words like ships floating around, looking for a moorage—
I simply help them out by arranging for their storage.

 

Got a bit mixed up with my prompts today and used two from yesterday, so here is another poem with additional prompts from today: jumble and upbeat.

Unreplicated

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Unreplicated

I’ll have no descendants. My line ends up in me.
I’ll add no other branches to my family tree.
Through hormone-driven years of youth, I kept myself intact.
Although I felt the urges, I never did the act.

Though I was fond of kissing, at further acts, I balked.
When I engaged in intercourse, I fear I merely talked.
I kept my panty hose in place—never unzipped my zipper.
I’d be no antecedent to any future nipper.

In the many years since then, I’ve had a love or two,
but as to procreation? My friends’ kids had to do.
I’m not averse to passion. In fact, I am no saint,
but when it comes to motherhood? Sorry, folks. I ain’t!!

Prompt words for the day are talk, antecedent and zipper.

 

(This poem is only partially autobiographical. I love kids and always thought I’d have a few, but the time or the potential father was never quite right, and when the right one came along, he’d already had ten kids, so it seems in this life, at least, I am the end of the line.)

Photo a Day: Floral

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For Sept. Photo a Day Challenge: Floral

Global Climate Strike

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Please read and pass along this message about a Global Climate Strike on the 20th of September. Something has to be done!!!!

brenda's avatara meditative journey

environmental acts rolled back

youths around the world respond…

https://youtu.be/KzhYpw6vO_Y

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Old Lovers

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Old Lovers

We meet in the kitchen,
your face slightly blue
in the light from the refrigerator.
Left-over shepherd’s pie in one hand,
a half-gallon of Costco vanilla ice cream in the other,
you seem suspended in a middle land
between repletion and guilt.

Being here for the same purpose,
I offer absolution,
and we talk about the future,
sitting with forks and spoons aloft,
eating from the same bowl and carton.
It is part of our sensuality,
this culinary communication at 2 a.m.

Wishing to go deeper,
we seek out chocolate
in that place
where you have hidden it
for years––on top of the refrigerator.
Knowing all your secrets,
I am the one who retrieves it this time.

This is what might happen
if we were not divided by miles,
you in your country,
me in mine. As it is,
you feast on ribs from Dexter Barbecue,
I eat the ice cream with a single spoon—
these mid-night fantasies
reality enough for old lovers
building new communions.

 

 

 

Prompt words today are talk, middle, sensual, future and kitchen.

Lens Artist Photo Challenge 63: Magical

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Purple moon

 

I’m not sure that this is the correct link, but if not, perhaps someone can direct it for me: https://lagottocattleya.wordpress.com/2019/09/14/lens-artists-photo-challenge-63-magical-my-magical-garden/