Category Archives: Poem

The Astronauts are Called In From Vacation: Wordle 523

The Astronauts are Called In From Vacation

The time’s drawing near for our next big space mission,
so there’s no more time for beaches or fishin’,
Be speedy in putting your sail boats away
and wrap them up tightly so they won’t decay
in the salty sea air while you are in space,
murdering miles at a furious pace.

There’s much to be found as you leave Earth behind.
for far beyond the usual grind,
no weapons are needed and there’s less debris.
No tickets or tollroads, for passage is free
except for the millions to set off our rockets,
but the rich can be sure it comes out of the pockets

of everyday men like the plumbers and teachers
and waitresses, cowboys, bus drivers and preachers.
And when you get home, your boats will be waiting.
There’ll be no delay and there’ll be no debating.
Whether fishing for stars or starfish or krill,
Joe Public will be there to pick up the bill.

 

Here are the Wordle prompts for Oct 17, 2021:  mission, murder, beaches, time, tight, boat, speedy, weapon, space, found, air, drawing. Image by Spacex on Unsplash.

For the Sunday Whirl Wordle Prompt

The Confessions of a Halloween Candy Hoarder

The Confessions of a Halloween Candy Hoarder

I do not accept your recent accusal
as anything but an attempt to bamboozle
me out of the vestiges of my collection
of Halloween candy that’s skipped your detection.

I’m thankful that I’m neither trustful nor dumb
enough to be functioning under your thumb,
for I find repugnant your plans to abscond
with all of the candy with which I’ve grown fond.

For though you gobbled your candy down quickly,
going through all of it lickety-splickly,
I like to keep my candy yield near
and eat one piece a day for the rest of the year!

When days are balmy, butterscotch is nice.
I save all my chocolate for snow days and ice.
And when the campfire sparkles and flickers,
I like to devour my Halloween Snickers.

If it annoys you, you’ll have to make do
with a few M&M’s that I hid in my shoe.
The rest of my candy is where I have hidden it,
to be consumed when only I’ve bidden it.

Prompts for the day are vestige, repugnant, bamboozle, balmy and thankful.

The Proposal

The Proposal

Under the star-spangled night I espy
a woman in love and her regular guy.
He has resolved it’s the night to propose,
and safe in his pocket’s the ring that he chose,
but her physical closeness so comfortably huddled
close up to his side has him slightly befuddled.
What if he was swindled and the diamond’s not real?
It was such a big stone and such a good deal!

He fingers the box and tries to decide
how best to convince this girl at his side
to accept his offer to become his bride.
He swears to the heavens, so splendid and wide
that he’ll do his best to furnish a life
befitting the one that he makes his wife.
Then his nervousness done, he falls on one knee,
to turn his whole life from “I” into “We.”

Word prompts for the day are star-spangled, resolve, swindle, espy and physical.Image by Trevin Rudy on Unsplash.

Companion

Okay, for the first time, I have prompt words for you. I challenge you to write a poem or prose piece making use of these words: approach, looking, street, breath, strange.  

Below is my poem making use of those words. Please don’t read it until you’ve written your own poem, then link your poem to this post in the comments.:

 

Companion

Climbing up the steep-pitched road, almost out of breath,
how strange that I should meet you, here on a street named Death.
When I was not looking, and had no need of it,
you changed course to walk with me and urged me not to quit.

 If I had started later, or earlier, it’s true,
I would have passed unnoticed and surely, so would you.
But now you turn and join me as I approach the bend,
and we continue, side-by-side, companions to the end.

 

Now, if you think penning an eight-line poem is a breeze, you might want to see this very late-night Skype conversation with Forgottenman in which we discuss said poem. The first line and every line
without Doug’s name preceding it is me speaking. Doug is Forgottenman, by the way, but he asks that you don’t tell anyone!  ;o)

This is the Skype conversation: 
2:30 AM
I’m stuck on one word in a poem.
I found it on a list I’d made of books I wanted  to read…I’d written it on half the page.. and I don’t think I ever published it on m’blog.
Doug, 2:31 AM
I’m not quite following, but if you tell me more I might get it.
2:32 AM
Companion
Climbing up the steep-pitched road, almost out of breath,
how strange that I should meet you, there on a street named Death.
When I was not looking, and had no need of it,
you came to walk beside me and urge me not to quit.
If I’d started later, or earlier, it’s true,
I would have passed unnoticed and surely, so would you.
trying to decide whether to change the third line to:
you came to walk beside me an prevail on me to quit
I came to walk beside you and exhort you to quit
2:34 AM
I have a problem with the third line:
I came to walk beside you and prevail on you to quit,
counsel you to quit
inveigle you to quit.
does the companion want to urge on or stop?
Doug, 2:34 AM
Ok, that’s the fourth line. I had a niggle with it as well.
Doug, 2:35 AM
I think it should still start “you came to walk…”
2:35 AM
inspired me to quit?
Doug, 2:35 AM
It feels to me that you’re the passive one in the verse.
2:36 AM
I think so too but can’t find the right word.
is the companion inspiring me to continue or to turn back?
Doug, 2:37 AM
I’ve no idea yet, and that may be the point of the verse – the ambiguity.
My possibly lame late-night drunken take: “you came to walk beside me. You urged me not to quit.”
(Gotta keep “quit” for the rhyme.)
2:43 AM
Perhaps name it “The Accomplice”
Doug, 2:43 AM
Hmmm…
2:43 AM
Accomplice
Doug, 2:44 AM
Seems it needs a preceding unexpected adjective.
2:51 AM
Companion
Climbing up the steep-pitched road, almost out of breath,
how strange that I should meet you, there on a street named Death.
When I was not looking, and had no need of it,
you came to walk beside me and urge me not to quit.
If I’d started later, or earlier, it’s true,
I would have passed unnoticed and surely, so would you.
But now you turn and follow me as we approach the bend,
and we continue, side-by-side, companions to the end.
Doug, 2:53 AM
Penultimate line says they follow you, but last line side-by-side. I think you need to reconcile.
But I REALLY LOVE it!
Should it be “here on a street named Death”?
I’m wondering about making it all current tense?
3:05 AM
How about:
Doug, 3:17 AM
Another drunken suggestion: “But now you turn and join me”
3:18 AM
Companion
Climbing up the steep-pitched road, almost out of breath,
how strange that I should meet you, there on a street named Death.
When I was not looking, and had no need of it,
you changed course to walk beside me and urge me not to quit.
If I had started later, or earlier, it’s true,
I would have passed unnoticed and surely, so would you.
But now you turn and follow me as we approach the bend,
and we continue, side-by-side, companions to the end.
oops.. i didn’t hit send..
but I like your suggestion added to this..I changed the 4th line to changed course.
Doug, 3:18 AM
I’m following your draft.
You know I don’t like to dance in the conventional footie/leggie sense. THIS is how we dance! And I just friggin’ LOVE it!
3:20 AM
Si…
Doug, 3:21 AM
I almost think our conversation here could be a blog.
3:22 AM
Ha.. do it as a conversation with my muse!
I think you should do it in your blog and link it to the end of mine.
It would be fun.
Doug, 3:23 AM
Perhaps, but that requires a sober decision from moi.
You said (I think) this was something you wrote long ago and stuffed in a book? That would be a lovely thing to add below your poem.
In case you missed it, I still think it should be “here on a street named Death”.
… “here” not “there”.
3:27 AM
I think you should just copy everything up to but not including this comment by me and put it on your blog with an explanation that it was a late-night Skype conversation that preceded my posting my “Companion” poem. Then put a link at the end of my blog. But needs to be done now, before I publish it so everyone sees it.
Yeah – no. I needa do it sober.
3:29 AM
Then I’ll just do it on my blog.. cuz I want to post it but I agree it would be fun to have our conversation added.
Doug, 3:31 AM
I concur –  But I must do penance for my (drunk)
3:31 AM
and if you wait, the earlier viewers won’t see it.
just copy and post. I’ll check it out for you if you wish.
and write the into.
intro.. on my blog and yours
Doug, 3:31 AM
Nope. No can do tonight.
3:32 AM
okay. Here goes…. 

Soulmate

Soulmate

Your
tangerine
soul
sweats
in the
vermillion
midday
sun
burns
away
to ash
at dusk
turns
indigo
at midnight

Word Prompts:

Indigo
Tangerine
Vermilion
Midnight
Dusk

 

For Octpowrimo, Oct 16

Oops, my bad, sort of. This was published with the wrong year last year (as 2021) and don’t know how I found it, but only noticed that everyone else had commented on it as 2020 after
I’d written the poem and linked it. So here it is with all its warts.

Flood


Flood

The swiftly rushing current betokens something tragic—
a cavity within my heart where before there was magic.
Your piano floats on by, sounding its last chord—
that last note of “Fur Elise” before the waters roared.

Vestiges of dinner float by on their raft
of our dining table, candelabra fore and aft,
sinking to the current. Now the dishes follow after.
The whole house now floats away–floor and walls and rafter.

All flooding away from me, left here to remember
a roaring fire dampened down to one last dying ember.
The first to go, you pulled our world after you as well.—
our music  now extinguished by your funeral knell.

 

Prompts for today are current, piano, dinner, betoken and cavity.

Lest you worry–Dolly, Sam, Cee and others who always ask–this poem is an amalgam of many past memories: the death of a loved one, the two big floods here, a recent phone call with a friend who has just lost her husband. The memories are all scrambled. Fiction based on past facts and mixed together into a poem.

Unraveled


Unraveled

The pain of love unraveling? No one knows it better,
for she wears her heart upon her sleeve, knit into her sweater.
Each day her heart unravels and lies tangled down her arm.
They say it cannot harm her. Loosened hearts cannot do harm.
But she’s a prisoner of these tendrils of love that’s come undone—
the truth of it revealed to her each day by a new sun,
while each night in her dreams, sleep knits it up again
and the ardor of her lost love once more draws her in.
She forgets the present and relives what she once had—
what she imagines in her slumber cancelling out the bad.
This unknitting and reknitting can’t be what life is for.
She must search for her dream’s exit. She must try to find the door.
Cast her old garment on the flames. Burn up that raveled sleeve.
Real love stays firmly knitted. A true love doesn’t leave.

For dVerse Poets: Pain  Image by nik on Unsplash.

Great Author Above

Clouds above

Great Author Above

I’m tired of emotion. I’m up to my ears
in hysteria, sadness and terror and tears.
Bloodcurdling screams have become commonplace
along with sirens and gunshots and mace.

Our souls have been dirtied by leaders who lie
as they help themselves to their pieces of pie.
If there is a God, then this is the time
for him to step in and infuse some sublime

grace in a world that has gone much astray.
Yet we pay and we pay and we pay and we pay
with innocent blood while the rich all get fatter,
as though this whole world’s ruled by the Mad Hatter.

If this is true and we’re living a fable, 
great Author Above, if you’re willing and able,
write a new ending, preferably happy,
and hear my plea to please make it snappy!!!

 

Prompts today are emotion, dirty, bloodcurdling and tears.

Cooked Goose

Cooked Goose

As I face her contumely with stoic restraint,
I may seem cavalier, but really I ain’t.

I’ve grown used to her holiday gloom and depressions
when she is exposed to these family sessions.

After so many years, I’m attuned to the drill,
though I must admit that I’ve had my fill
of her bigoted grandpa, her silly vain mom,
her brother whose jokes are always a bomb.

Her sister who views our clothes with derision,
the grandmother who cannot reach a decision
on what kind of pie—pumpkin, chocolate or peach?
So she always ends up with a little of each.

Her nieces and nephews all stupid and spoiled,
and the Christmas goose that always tastes boiled.
Why do we attend each new family blast
when we always go home feeling slightly aghast?

I must say their whole group has failed at the game,
for a family should be far more than a name.
We swear every holiday will be our last,
but I fear nonetheless that our lot has been cast.

We’ll continue to dread every Christmas and Easter—
every occasion to become a feaster
on gummy plum pudding and cold slimy fowl,
for though we curse and  grumble  and growl,

for birthdays and weddings, we’ll load up the car
and drive those long miles to come from afar
repeating this ritual year after year,
for this is the family that we hold dear!

 

 

Prompt words are holiday, cavalier, stoic, contumely and passage. Fiction, folks, fiction. Written from the point of view of a long-suffering male spouse. My husband did not feel this way about my family, really.

Bad Timing: Wordle 522


Bad Timing

It’s not until I hear the thunder
that I recognize my blunder.
All alone. (I ditched my fella).
In the forest, no umbrella.

As I walk, my shoes are gooing.
Up above, the doves are cooing,
but they’re up there under covers
with their nestlings and their lovers.

I’m down here shivering in the rain
with seven miles of rough terrain
in front of me from here to home.
I need a fairy, elf or gnome

to come and work their magic spell
to save me from this drippy Hell.
The rain beats its loud tattoos
upon my head and neck and shoes.

I start to shiver, drip and ooze.
I covet shelter, dryness, booze—
all things that I had of late
before I deigned to ditch my date!

My  leather shoes, high-heeled and small,
are not helping things at all.
I take them off and walk bare-toed
down the rain-slicked country road.

I wish that I had asked how far
home was before I left the car!

Prompt words are doves, elves, walk, tattoo, covet, umbrella, seven, blunder, forest, thunder, leathery, small. Image by Merri on Unsplash.

For: The Sunday Whirl Wordle 522