Sinning
Out here at my grandpa’s farm, there isn’t any sinning.
We’re as innocent as Eve way back at the beginning
before original sin was born, decreed by the Almighty
and Eve was forced to don a fig leaf in lieu of a nightie.
As we kneel to milk the cows, we also kneel in prayer,
peeling all our sins away, layer after layer.
But I prefer to say Eve’s sin was merely hers alone.
I should get to do the sin for which I must atone!
Confessions of Hatface
My father calls me hatface because of my addiction
for wearing things upon my head because of my conviction
that I look prettier in hats or hairdos most original
to make me look exotic––French or Greek or aboriginal.
I wear my cat under my arm, my socks upon my head.
Rather than be ordinary, I’d rather be dead.
Sometimes I walk my rabbit. When he walks on his hind feet,
for sure, we’ve the attention of everyone we meet.
My rabbit sheds his rabbit skin and wears a shirt instead,
and me? I change my head socks and put bows upon my head.
Our skin is very pliable. It stretches like Band-aids,
so Sis and I just pull it up in pretty little braids.
In sunlight, flowers surprise me by sprouting from my head.
I never know what to expect when rising from my bed.
I have two patron blackbirds perched one upon each shoulder.
They’d be perching on my head if they were any bolder.
A bluebird doubles as my kite, the string held in its mouth.
Sometimes he flies me east or west, and sometimes we fly south.
I’m a very special girl. I’m not at all predictable––
a miracle that Jackie Hurlbert found me this depictable!
Thanks to Charmed Chaos for thinking up this picture prompt for dVerse Poets and to jackie Hurlbert for letting her use her beautiful paintings as prompts. We were to choose one to write about, but I chose all of them. Click on her name to see more of her work.
Recluse
Like a rabbit in its burrow, you hide yourself away.
Do you frolic in the nighttime and obscure yourself all day?
How can you be so opposite of all the world’s routine?
What is it you are doing that you are so rarely seen?
I’d buy you an alarm clock if you think that it would aid
your efforts to return yourself to the daily parade.
My offer is not insincere. I’ll do what I must do
to try to spend some daylight hours with the likes of you!
Ballroom Intervention:
Trod Upon Blues
This gratuitous violence that you insist is dancing
insures that there will definitely be no further prancing.
I don’t intend to be the victim of your future trodding.
My toes can’t take another night of your infernal plodding.
If you must sashay, my dear, I think it would be fine
if you took a few lessons to insure that you will shine
when next you ask a girl to dance, lest your skills depreciate
to a level where the least of us will not appreciate
your extended hand out to ask us for a dance.
I’m afraid not one of us is willing now to chance
damage to her Manolos, let alone her toes.
We’ll simply have to get along with more accomplished beaus.
So with most loving intentions, we’ve all chipped in to buy
a coupon for dance lessons for our favorite clumsy guy.
We hope that you will take it in the way that it’s intended,
and that you won’t be angry, downhearted or offended.
Please accept these lessons, dear. After just a few
instead of asking us to dance, we’ll be asking you!
Prompt words today are night, sashay, gratuitous and shine.
| sinónimos: | unjustified, without reason, uncalled for, unwarranted, unprovoked, undue; Más
|
What do you call your significant other once you are no spring chicken? Will boyfriend do? Is “significant other” overused? Forgottenman has some thoughts on the matter and asks you to share yours. Go HERE to join the discussion!!!
Sale Day at the Knock-off Designer Purse Store
Shoppers are in a quandary. They’ll put up with no delay.
We advertised new bargains available today.
They’re seeking phony purses from Dior and Michael Kors.
Noses against the windows, they’re beating at the doors.
But they’ve delayed our shipments and we don’t know what to do.
The faces of the ladies first in line are turning blue.
The advertising blitz we did turned out to be foolhardy.
Our Chanels are stuck in customs, our Hermès bags are tardy.
We have the fire hoses ready. We’ll use them if we must.
The ladies’ love of Fendi has turned into a lust.
If purses were religion they would be the most confessory.
There is no other obsession like the one for an accessory!
This real Hermès just sold for two million dollars at auction!!! Has the world gone crazy? It is the second most expensive handbag in the world.
Want to see the most expensive handbag in the world? Go HERE.
Tianguis*
When I strolled down to the market to buy a piece of fish,
I had no other shopping list. I had no further wish.
Except for some cilantro to stuff into its cavity,
I suffered from no other acquisitional depravity.
But on my way to aisles that simply dealt in fishes,
I stumbled upon vendors selling other tempting dishes.
I bought some chanterelles and then some green tomatoes,
some Michoacan peaches and fingerling potatoes.
I could not resist a table covered with such things
as necklaces and bracelets and pretty silver rings.
I tried on clogs and three-inch heels, then bought their matching purses.
I purchased four used mysteries and then a book of verses.
Baby diapers by the dozen, though I have no kids.
A set of second-hand cookery minus all their lids.
Thank God I found a shopping cart for sale just half way through
or how I would have managed, I have not the slightest clue.
I mounded up my bounty, then turned down the next aisle,
my eyes seeking out treasures, mile after mile.
So by the time I found the fish, my cart was out of room
unless I hung my salmon from the handle of the broom
that stuck way out in front of me like a chivalric lance
wedged in between my brand new Spanx and bras and underpants.
I bought two whole red salmon and suspended them out front,
then turned my shopping cart around to puff and pant and grunt
wheeling it uphill this time now that I had decided
that it was time to take my bounty to where I resided.
An hour later, out of breath, I’d slowed my former pace,
a small parade of alley cats preceding me in space.
Eying my bag of salmon, they leapt onto my cart.
I shooed them off my underwear. I fended off each dart.
I avoided their advances. I matched their yowls and hisses,
grabbed up the broom and battled those felines for my fishes.
While with the other hand I dialed animal control,
I fear my cart got out of hand and it commenced to roll
down the hill that I’d just climbed, shedding pans and Spanx
while cats made off with both my fish, not bothering with thanks.
The rest of all my bounty was lost in its descent.
I do not have a single clue where all my treasures went.
The broom, a silver ring and a new hat upon my head
were all I made it home with. The rest was forfeited.
The cart has a new owner who fills it full of cans.
My Spanx no doubt are holding in other chubby fans.
Those cats are lying somewhere, dozing and replete
from all that lovely salmon that I did not get to eat.
And I have learned my lesson. The next time I need fish
or any other foodstuffs to complete another dish,
I’ll simply dial the grocery store to have it all delivered.
When it comes to the tianguis, I’m freshly lily-livered!
*A tianguis is an open-air market or bazaar selling new and used goods as well as fresh produce, meat and fish that is traditionally held on certain market days in a town or city neighborhood in Mexico and Central America.
For the dVerse Poets prompt, “Market.”
Yes, you can make the images larger by clicking on the photos!!
Fertile Fashion
She had a verdant sort of glamour unabated by machine.
Thus all of her garments were a vibrant shade of green.
Her bodice made of leaves and her skirts all made of branches
interwoven with fresh grass from her father’s ranches.
She knew she would inherit all his forest land and grass
which would be sufficient for covering her ass
for throughout her lifetime except for those long winters
when the grasses withered and the branches turned to splinters.
That’s how she came to following the sun to warmer places
where grass was always greener and with no wintry traces.
She had a fleet of weavers and they developed followings
that started up a fashion trend based on nature wallowings:
women picking grass and leaves for home-woven duds.
Embellishing with tiny bees that burrowed in the buds
that they wore for earrings and the sheep and cattle that
followed them in twos and threes to feed on purse or hat
woven from green grasses and embellished with fresh leaves.
They nibbled on their hemlines and fed upon their sleeves.
And this is how the world came to accept the final crudity
of fashionistas who evolved from verdancy to nudity!!!
Today’s prompts are glamour, following, verdant and inherit. All illustrtions harvested from the internet.
Query for a Backseat Driver
Your directional demands are wearing rather thin.
They’re wearing out my eardrums. Getting beneath my skin.
Must you demand in public? Must you always nag?
Have you all the answers in your Mary Poppins bag?
Must you simply always be so self-sure and so stolid?
Is there no effervescence in your dependably solid?
You always quote statistics, so I would like to hear
what is the percentage of the facts you know, my dear,
that you think would fit if you stuffed them up your rear?
Prompt words for today are directional, percent, stolid and public.
Words of the day are exchange, hustle, and instigate.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 