Category Archives: Poem

At a Distance for Word of the Day, Jan 6, 2026

IMG_2075

At a Distance

Although you may be absent, thoughts of you still linger.
I think you have my memory wound around your finger,
for though I find the lack of you totally endurable,
my memory suffers from a need that’s totally incurable.
Friends may think the distance between us is a pity,
and yet with one so erudite, so pithy, loyal and witty,
it seems you linger on even after you are bound
off to other regions—your presence a mere sound
heard over the telephone, imagined o’er the keys,
so I may have your company any time I please.
Relationships are more, my dear, than a simple presence.
Sometimes merely words suffice to conjure up your essence.

 

I am answering this challenge with a poem written in 2016–ten years ago. If you are still curious about this untypical relationship described in the poem above, read more about it HERE
and then HERE.

For Word of the Day Challenge, the word is Distance.

“The Green Moth” for the Poetry Challenge

The Green Moth

Note: The Poetry Challenge was to write 10-14 sentences of poetic prose about a defining moment that influenced a new direction . Wish I had more skill in formatting this so the words came right up to the moth, as they did when it flew onto my screen and then rested quietly as I arranged the words around it. This was the best I could do in recreating the experience.

“If He” Open Link Night for dVerse Poets


Creche by Judy Dykstra-Brown

If He

had married the girl and had children
and been less overt with his teachings
of peace and love too radical
for a world immersed in their opposite,

he would then not have changed the world, perhaps,
but only lived in contrast
to that power popular among those who needed it
and effective in keeping those adverse to it quiet.

If he had married the girl, the world would probably have ended up
pretty much how it has anyway, but he might have had a different ending––
grown old, had his cronies over to talk about the good old days,
converted water into wine and served them loaves and fishes.

Mary Magdalene would have danced for them like in the good old days,
and all of his children would have listened in awe to hear the tales
of how he walked on the water,
bade Lazarus to rise from the grave.

He would shush his cronies as they started in
with tales of how he smashed the souvenir stands
and threw the moneychangers out of the temple––
not stories for young ears not quite yet ready to learn revolution.

And all of the ill done in his name might have happened anyway,
but at least he would have had a good life.  Would have suffered less.
And some other savior might have found a way to save the world
that would have worked.

For dVerse Poets Open Link Night 398

See other poems HERE.

“Hearts” For The Sunday Whirl 375

Hearts

Hearts on hooks sweep back and forth
from east to west to south to north,
hung on chains where they are caught,
dizzy from what fate has wrought.
While other shocked hearts steam and swell,
 bound tight to sticks in their own hell.
Whether held by chain or stock,
hearts the world over feel the shock
while you, I hope, possess a heart
that’s been free from the very start.

For The Sunday Whirl 735 the prompts are: hook sway hearts strip chain dizzy sweep you stick swell steam shock

“The Usual Stuff” for SOCS

The Usual Stuff

I’ve had enough
of the usual stuff––
wars, tsunamis
murdered mommies
global warming
cancers forming
mad religions and heretics
engineering our genetics
drug cartels
emptying wells
mounting debt
nuclear threat

I hate to say it
but every day it
is getting worse
this global curse
Presidents who line their pockets,
turning food stamps into rockets
and human capers
in all the papers
so all in all
it’s an easy call
I find less friction
in reading fiction!

The SOCS prompt is “Usual.”

“Abundance” for dVerse Poets

Abundance

How can we approach “abundant”
without resorting to “redundant?”
We must simply have the gall
to search for the original
instead of coming in the door
with something we have bought before––
like “Beanie Babies” by the score.

What if, everywhere we went,
we looked for something different?
So when we chose a friend anew,
they had a different point of view?
From countryside or town or city,
be it huge or itty-bity––
just choose someone you find witty

and mine their mind for something new
that can grow a part of you
that’s different from what came before––
that can open up a door
within your heart, within your mind
of that place where you can find
beliefs of a matching kind.

For dVerse Poets prompt: Abundant

( I know I’m not supposed to be blogging. The dVerse Devil made me do it…_

Thanksgiving, for dVerse Poets

Thanksgiving

Speeding toward the old year’s end,
we express our thanks for the past year’s treasures––
pathways that we chose to wend.
And each friend whose love endures,
we invite to share in our table’s pleasures.

 

The dVerse Poets prompt is to write a Lire poem: 7, 11, 7, 7, and 11  syllables.
Rhyme Scemer: aBabB. Suggested topic is November or Thanksgiving.

Two Will Do

DSC08414

Two Will Do

I used to like friends by the score
squeezed wall-to-wall and door-to-door.
A party didn’t even count
until the guests began to mount
up to sixty, seventy, more.
But now, I’m finding crowds a bore.

Now I find that two-by-two
is something I prefer to do.
Conversations more intimate
make it simpler to relate.
So though I used to be a grouper,
now I’m just a party-pooper.

for dVerse Poets, the prompt is Number.

“Cruel Nature” for The Sunday Whirl

Cruel Nature

Wee chirping birdies trill their whistles
while down in the cruel thistles
a baby bunny in the thicket
explores a wound and starts to lick it.
Stiff sticks as sharp as horns of deer 
are what these little creatures fear.


What a great treat it would be
to be those birds up in the tree
looking out from far above––
their feathered nest a cosy glove
that fits them well, all snug and warm
up there far from pain and harm.

This sunset must be nature blushing,
and this momentary hushing
at the end of day a type of prayer
for quaking creatures hidden where
unprotected, they await 
their potential sadder fate.

 

The Sunday Whirl Wordle #733 prompt words are: thistles horns stiff treat wee chirping fit down stick blushing out moment   I made use of AI to create the images.

“Quit Before It’s Too Late” for RDP Sunday

Quit Before It’s Too Late

Why oh why did I not quit
before the very end of it?
Douse live coals in the fire pit
or leave that fatal fire unlit?
Withhold that kick, suppress that hit?
Hold back the urge to squeeze that zit?
Leave that final plot unknit?

Alas, this is the truth of it:
one chance is all we mortals get.

For RDP Sunday  the prompt word is; Quit