Tinder is the Night
It was a measly little dalliance—a tumble in the hay—
but it turned insidious somewhere along the way.
You read about it somewhere almost every day,
so when you meet up with strangers,
be careful where you lay.
Prompt words today are tumble, insidious, dalliance, measly and read. Image by Matthieu Huang on Unsplash.
The Unlikelihood of Dieting
Her curvaceous days were over. She was striving for the minimum.
She wanted her face molded and her abdomen tight as a drum.
She curtailed breakfast waffles and cookies, cakes and pies
and bought a stationary bike to exercise her thighs,
but to coin a phrase I fear her chances were slim pickens
so long as there were French fries and Colonel Sanders chickens!
Prompt words today are over, coin, curvaceous, curtail and minimum.
If I seem to be obsessed about losing weight and body image lately, blame the prompts and the fact that my friend keeps making me eat ice cream!!!
Eaten Away
Now that my skin’s been exsiccated,
I think it could be debated
whether now I’m liable
to also be more friable.
Pounds drying out and crumbling?
If so, I won’t be grumbling.
I’ll be real glad to lose some mass
from upper arms, tummy and ass.
If so, aging could be a treat,
for no matter what I eat,
my fat would crumble and fall away.
Naughty eating with naught to pay.
Prompt for today are exsiccate, real, kin, friable and treat.
The Grump: A Pessimist’s Last Request
I don’t pander to the drug merchants. My pleasures are not herbal.
I don’t believe in drinking and I don’t get off on verbal.
Gossip is innocuous and I have no affection
for reading mystery novels. I am bored by their detection.
I do not seek adventure in movies or in travel.
I don’t see what folks see in Judge Judy’s pounding gavel.
I don’t have any hobbies, for I find all pastimes boring.
I got rid of my wife for I can’t abide her snoring.
I don’t see what folks see in life so when time comes to end it,
please do not resuscitate. I don’t wish to extend it!
A disclaimer: this poem is preceded by a favorite photo I once took but in no way illustrates the person depicted. He’s a good sport and has let me use this photo three different times to illustrate humorous poems.
Prompt words are adventure, innocuous, herbal, pander and affection. And. . .this poem is purely fiction. Go ahead and resuscitate me!!!!
Up in Smoke
I’d bet a batch of raviolis
that you’ve blown your bronchioles
since you’ve gone completely wacko
over hand-rolled fine tobacco.
Your affection for your smoking
that at first was grounds for joking
raises qualms about the rumor
that you’ve found you have a tumor.
I must admit that I find strange.
your haughty refusal to change
that causes worry among your friends
that you’ll come to tragic ends.
To me is seems you must be showing
that your puffing and your blowing
is more important in your life
than your children or your wife.
I wonder if you’ll feel elation
on the day of your cremation
as all of you goes up in smoke.
And that will be your final joke!
Prompt words today are bronchiole, qualms, nourish, haughty and affection.
Member of the Pack
It’s a pretense that I’m lonely, for as I look back
I do not miss existing in the raffish pack.
I do not miss the barrooms or parties tightly wedged
between the other partiers—those memories I’ve dredged
from a corner of my mind where they are a reminder
that once my world was fuller if not exactly kinder.
We were all examining the people we could be.
Trying on our different selves to see what we could see
in the mirror of our cohorts’ eyes and how they treated us,
riding in the joy car ’til we jumped down from the bus
to thumb a ride to try to find a different part to live in—
a part where all the rest of us wouldn’t have to give in.
All the various sides of us have their own times and spaces
that are all a part of how life puts us through our paces.
And now in maturity, I hope that we’ve all found
that comfortable part of us for which we all were bound.
And that’s why I’m not lonely as I wander back
in memory to when I was a member of the pack!
Prompts today are pretense, lonely, reminder, raffish and pack.
This Dress
This dress, stuffed in a corner of an old trunk,
sparks memories, rekindling magic.
From far in the future, I feel the past
rising to join me. It heats the cold air of the attic
and the skies outside the window clear of clouds.
A warm spring afternoon on a blanket in the park,
the outing I thought spontaneous
crowned with the offer of a ring.
Spilling the wine, falling sideways into the three-tiered coconut cake,
rising as one, laughing—a freshly engaged couple.
Licking the frosting off your arm. Your licking the frosting off my neck.
Symbiotic in new plans for our continuance into the future—
into the length of our lives.
That dress. A bit of frosting still on the collar.
You, so many years after, still blooming in my memory.
For the Sunday Whirl Wordle # 511 the prompt words are rekindle, dress, far, future, magic, ring, rising, sky, heats, spontaneous legendary sparks. Image by Kate Hizlitznova on Unsplash.
Accidental Excuses
Pointing at the calendar, you voice a guttural moan,
regretting a notation for which you must atone.
It’s time to trim the ivy from the window frames and gutters,
but your reluctance to do so, I can tell from your low mutters.
When our decorous window boxes needed a small touch-up,
you erased the reminder and smugly held your crutch up.
Of course I did the job for you, for it would be abuse
not to take a broken leg as adequate excuse.
But now that you have healed, my dear, it clearly is your turn
to cut back the ivy and to trim the Boston fern.
In spite of your pleading eyes and all your manly charm,
you’ll only avoid this chore if you fall and break an arm!
Prompt words today are guttural, calendar, ivy, decorous and point.
Image by Debb D on Unsplash.
Overstatement
Though her smile was impressively perfect and bright,
I found it vacuous—joyless and tight.
To gainsay her fashion sense, I must express
that jewelry was often worn in excess.
Rings on her fingers and earrings and more:
necklaces, scarves and bracelets galore.
Such foolish things as ruffles and puffs,
pleatings and laces, umbrellas and muffs
completed her outfits, almost, for two more
accoutrements finished her body’s decor.
Her makeup layered on, then there was just one.
She dumped on perfume, and then she was done!
Prompts today are foolish things, vacuous, impressive, gainsay and dump.
Puddle-Jumping
Raindrops fall and splat and skitter,
bringing sheen and gloss and glitter.
In my dreams I hear them falling,
try to wake to heed their calling.
When exactly do I know
it’s time to leave my bed and go
outside to splash in rain-filled gutters,
ignoring Grandpa’s warning mutters
that I’ll catch a cold today
if I go outside to play?
He says it’s raining cats and dogs,
but all I find outside are frogs,
proving his idiom a lie
as nothing’s falling from the sky
but rain and blossoms from the tree
that stretches its limbs over me.
I make my way, laborious,
through mud and goo most glorious,
then reach the ditch and wash feet off
in the rushing water trough.
I see Grandpa watching me,
warm and dry and splatter-free.
But then he’s gone, no doubt to see
what’s playing now on the TV.
But, just as it begins to pour,
there’s Grandpa coming out the door!
Barefooted, he jumps in my puddle,
gives my shoulders a warm cuddle,
then repeats the old refrain
that this day is “Right as rain!”
Prompt words today are rain, idiom, skitter, exact, dreams.
Images by Amy Reed and Nicholas Bartos on Unsplash. Used with permission.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 