Category Archives: poems

Purple Passion

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Purple Passion

My days of purple passion regrettably are over—
all those desktop gropings and rollings in the clover.
His need to perform publicly an act that should have been
romantically private? I was reluctant to back then.
But now that passion seems to be on permanent vacation.
We old gals get excitement by our over-lunch relation
of bygone tales of passion, in fact it is a blast
trading juicy tidbits as we share a light repast.
It seems that we get pleasure in sharing just a few
public recitations of what we were loath to do.

.

The prompt word today was purple.

Take Ordinary Caution

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Take Ordinary Caution

As pallbearer for my friend Larry,
I heard these deaths were ordinary
and if a fellow wished to  parry
his own demise, he should be wary
of our town apothecary.

For each he saves, there’s one they bury.
That is why I’m sorta wary,
and why I find his sign so scary
and ironically cautionary
when I read it’s “Cash and Carry.”

The prompt word today was ordinary.

Back Seat Driver

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Back Seat Driver

You are a lovely woman, Kate—
enough to cause my breath to bate,
enough to stun and addlepate—
but if we stop to ruminate
each time we reach another gate,
it is my fear that we’ll be late.
Why not let me cogitate
when forward progress to abate?
If necessary, I vow to wait
as we wage a long debate
on whether to go left or straight
as we approach the interstate,
but each time you excoriate,
criticise or agitate
for route changes, I rue my fate
the day I set up this blind date!!!

From: Your very competent driver, Nate


The prompt today was ruminate.

Read the Signs

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Read the Signs

Are you possibly aware
from your vantage over there,
so well-shod and so well-clad,
that you are overdressed a tad?
In fact, it would be hard for you
no matter what garment or shoe
you might have chosen to wear instead.
I fear that you have been misled.
You’d still be overdressed, you see—
you’re in a nudist colony!

The prompt today was “aware.”

Relax Redux: Empty Nest

Tonight, one of my favorite blogs, written by Carol and titled “Relax,” published a poem that begins with the lines:

Tonight, I am missing
all half-grown kissing
–oh! I meant kittens—
an orange one, Mittens,

(HERE is a link to her entire poem.)

I, however, loved the original typo (or contrived typo) and challenged her to make a poem starting from it and remaining with that idea.  I promised to do so myself, and have, hoping she won’t mind my stealing my version of her first line.  Here is mine:

Empty Nest

I’ve been missing
that half-grown kissing
that lasts a minute
with chocolate in it.
Runny noses.
Heads of roses
picked off stems
like rarest gems
presented in
a tuna tin.
Priceless treasure
for my pleasure.

My life lacks
these loving smacks––
even a quickie,
albeit sticky
with peanut butter.
A parting stutter,
and then they’re gone
and off upon
adventures new,
away from you,
taking their kisses
to other misses.

I’m awaiting hers.  Are you up to meeting the challenge, Carol?

Nativity

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Nativity

It was some day, that day when light came into my world.
Reaching out my arms and legs as they came uncurled,
so many lovely colors bursting into sight.
All this brilliant pigment where formerly was night.

All the parts familiar still attached to me—
my ankle and my navel, my elbow and my knee.
But no longer together, curled into one tight ball.
I never knew that I could be so wide and tall.

Stretching out to fill this square I wonder when
I will be forgetting the curved world I’ve been in.
My mother now beside me instead of all around.
At other times she’s simply nowhere to be found.

My father’s arms around me—arms brand new to me.
All the other others coming to see what I may be.
Scratchy things now touch me—dry things and things with fluff.
Everything a new thing until I’ve had enough.

Then I find my power and make some kind of noise.
Soon I’m joined by other infant girls and boys,
and the whole room fills with sounds of our distress.
Very satisfying, I fear I must confess.

The nurses all come running, the fathers and the sisters.
The orderlies and doctors, the misses and the misters.
And when they lift us up, each one in different arms,
all our cries desist as they cater to our charms.

“Some day,” they’ve been saying, and now we are all here—
a fresh new crop of humans arrived for them to rear.
Once more we exercise our lungs and make each father cower.
Fresh to this new world, we have already found our power.

The prompt today was someday.

Call to Arms

Things That Cling


Call to Arms

Sweaters do it, slips do it.
Even crackers and clam dips do it.
Let’s do it. I want to cling!!!

Saran wrap was made for it.
Lonely hearts first lust then fade for it.
Just put your arms in a ring.

Hold me and squeeze with them.
I’m the thing that you should seize with them.
Want all the hugs you can bring.

Monkeys in trees do it,
pointer fingers when you sneeze do it.
Let’s do it. Let’s do that thing.

Don’t hesitate o’er it.
Gotta tell you that I adore it.
Let’s do it.  Let’s have a fling!!!

The prompt word today is “cling.”