Category Archives: poems

Reluctant Guest

 

Reluctant Guest

It was infatuation. He was there at my behest,
and although I hoped for more, he proved to be a slippery guest.
When I reached out for him and he escaped my grasp,
I improvised a harness out of scarf and belt and clasp.

Before you form ideas about my brashness in this tryst,
imagining the lengths that I might go to to be kissed,
I fear that you misunderstand the situation. Maybe,
I did not make it clear that I was bathing sis’s baby!

 

 

The prompt words today are slippery, guest, infatuation, improvise.  Here are the links:

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/09/20/rdp-thursday-slippery/

https://fivedotoh.com/2018/09/20/fowc-with-fandango-guest/

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/09/20/infatuation/

https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/2018/09/17/daily-addictions-2018-week-37/improvise

Good Sport

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Good Sport

Although he’s just a featherweight with arms and legs like sticks,
he survives all the scrimmages— the shoving and the kicks.
He’s always game to play the sport in any sort of weather,
with his helmet duct taped to his head and gaiters of fine leather.
He’ll show up to participate whenever they might please
with elbow guards and shoulder pads and cushions on his knees.
Every game he joins his teammates in the dugout trench,
where though they never let him play, he’s faithful to the bench.
And no matter how much they may  laugh and jeer and chide and tease,
When it’s time for the team photo, he’ll turn up and mutter, “Cheese!”

Cheese, feather and game are the haunted wordsmith’s prompts today. Here is the link:
https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/09/18/three-things-challenge-18-sept-2018/

Good Taste

Good Taste

It was an ongoing debate
that never tended to abate.
One friend was too prone to oration
concerning the education
of her friend much given to
items that were too frou-frou:
clothing full of frills and ruching,
fluffy pillows good for smooshing,
carved furniture too ornate.
She feared bad taste would be her fate
forever unless she stepped in 
to counteract what might have been. 

She tried to teach her friend restraint
in ornaments and clothes and paint.
She tended to excoriate
items that were too ornate, 
curbing her psychedelic bent
while showing her what Bauhaus meant.
She declared ruffled skirts too silly,
weeding out what was too frilly.
And though her friend declared it wasteful, 
she threw out all that was not tasteful.
Ignoring her friend’s deep depression
as she culled out each possession.


She honed her house goods, cleared her shelves,

deprived her yard of frogs and elves.
Gave her flamingos to Good Will,
banned nicknacks on her window sill.
So finally, when she was through
relieving her of garish hue,
replacing all her things with new,
the friend knew what she had to do.
Her belongings spare, her wardrobe small,
her house was sparse, from wall-to-wall.
The most that she could say of it
was it was tasteful, but lacking wit.

‘Til when the culling was all ended,
the one thing left that still offended
was the friend who had advised her.
By the end, how she despised her.
So, with her training in good taste,
she acted now in confidant haste.
She first picked up, quickly upending
one last thing that needed tending—
dragged it clear across the floor
and tossed it out of her front door.
And that is how it came to pass
she pitched her friend out on her ass!

For more examples of extreme bad taste, go to A Visit to the Weird.

For Daily Addictions: Ornate.

Not Prone to Marry

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Not Prone to Marry

I am a happy spinster—a perpetual “Miss.”
I cannot fathom sinking into a passioned kiss.
I am without an anchor. Obligations have I few.
No imperious husband tells me what to do.

I have no need to ferret out the reasons why I’m single.
It’s not for hate of men and I am not loath to mingle.
I simply like my privacy, have no need for a kid.
While others chose to say “I do,” I simply never did.

 

The prompt words today are fathom, anchor, imperious and ferret. Here are the links:

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/09/16/rdp-sunday-fathom/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/09/16/fowc-with-fandango-anchor/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/09/16/imperious/ 
http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=797445 ferret

A Misanthropic Anti-Creed

 

Version 2

The assignment was to write a 6-line alphabet poem that started each line with a letter of the alphabet in a 6-letter sequence.  I.E. abcdef, qrstuv, etc.  Being a creature of excess, I used the entire alphabet, forwards and backwards, ending with a final Z to boot, since the title began with an “A.”  Please note that this is the cynical rant of a misanthrope—not necessarily my own view.  And this is the only photo I could find in my album that smacked of high society.  Actually, it’s a photo of me and my date for the junior prom.

A Misanthropic Anti-creed

After all is said and done,
Society is not much fun.
Cliques are just a machination
Dumbing down imagination. 
Each misanthrope must find his own
Final method to disown
Galas thrown to feed the poor
Hawking excesses they abhor.
Ladies in jewels you could die of,
Jostling to catch the eye of
Kings of minor countries or
Lords who are the things of lore.
Meanwhile, gents in tux and tie
Nod to try to catch the eye
Of that next lady in Dior
Possessed of means to feed the poor.
Quickened now, they move to kill,
Ready to restore their till.
Society’s main charity
Trying for a parity
Under the understanding that
Verisimilitude is boring.
What’s important is just scoring
Xcess being all the norm
Yielding to those who most conform.
Zero, then, goes to the poor.
You must admit, they are a bore.
Xtravagence is what they come for.
Widows they won’t waste a crumb for.
Very likely that the starving
Urgently needing  this feast’s carving
Taste not one small bite of it,
Still hungry now in spite of it.
Rich charity spends what’s allowed on
Quality that draws the crowd on.
Pheasant under glass costs more.
Only beans left for the poor. 
Not a charitable hope
Mars ponderings of our misanthrope.
Let not one charitable thought
Knit his brow.With doubts it’s fraught.
Jarring thoughts are all he thinks
In between ironic winks.
Hear well the stories he might tell—
Gory threats of burning hell
For that well-heeled society
Eating up the profits of
Doubtful fund raisers of love.
“Charitize” to feed the poor,
But really serve their own needs more.
Ask the misanthrope at the door.
Zero is left to feed the poor!!!!

The dVerse Poets prompt is to write a 6 line alphabet phone, using 6 letters in sequence to begin lines.  Here is the link: https://www.blenza.com/linkies/links.php?owner=dversepoets&postid=12Sep2018&meme=12493

Excuse # 2

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Excuse # 2

Quick, take my hand before I float off
on a breeze or a sigh or a sneeze or a cough.
No telling what currents are swelling today
to pick a girl up and float her away.
Oh, excuse number one?
Hand holding is fun!

For DVerse Poets: https://dversepoets.com/2018/09/10/quadrille-64-quickwrite-something/

On the Bottle

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On the Bottle

Even though the likelihood I’ll do so might diminish,
the few times  I’ve been tipsy, I’ve still made it to the finish.
And though the fact I crawled the last few blocks made me most pensive,
you must admit my efforts to get home were comprehensive!

Okay, here are the real prompts for today: comprehensive, tipsy, diminish

https://fivedotoh.com/2018/09/09/fowc-with-fandango-comprehensive/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/09/09/tipsy/
https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/diminish