jdbphoto
Recognition
Filthy little urchin, dirty little boy—
who could tell from looking that you’d be such a joy?
We never would have chosen you by following our nose,
but when we scraped the dirt off and laundered all your clothes,
we recognized you as our own, devoid of dirt and grime,
and now that you are family and with us all the time,
mud puddles still attract you. Dirt piles call your name.
But now it doesn’t matter. We love you all the same.
Lofty Evasions
One of the only problems with the prompt word “lofty”
is that the only word that rhymes happens to be “softie.”
Who can make a poem of that with no rhymes to use,
unless their perfect versifying they choose to abuse?
I’ve been busy all day long with no time to solve this,
but just this minute figured out a way I could resolve this.
My problem I’ll discuss at length, using random rhyme.
Until I reach the final line and just run out of time.
The prompt today was, “Lofty.”
Crossings
A river between us, each high on a ridge.
If we’re ever to meet, we must build a bridge.
But it’s hard to accomplish unless we take hand
to collect the cement, the gravel and sand.
So those of us tired of manual labors—
not given to chitchatting much with our neighbors—
can go on our blogs to find our own kind,
constructing bridges purely of mind.
Blogging is great to bring folks together
on separate continents, in any weather.
We can be lazy, me here and you there,
building our bridges with ease, through the air.
Not over yet! Now click on this URL:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9_8KpR49bFI
The prompt today was “bridge.”
That Small Feeling That Something’s Wrong
My intuition sounds its gong.
I have an inkling something’s wrong.
I look around for what’s amiss,
but cannot tell what signals this.
My arm and neck hairs stir and rise,
as if to warn me of surprise.
This tiny hunch keeps me alert,
but insight is a fickle flirt.
When nothing happens, it goes away
and I live out my normal day.
That tiny niggling little prickle
might lead to nought, for insight’s fickle,
and sometimes things are just so small
that they aren’t there at all.
The prompt word today is “tiny.”
Writer’s Digest Prompt: Write a poem making use of at least three of these words: ghost, crack, free, hand, check, know. I used them all at least once.
Bar Stool Brush-Off
There’s not a ghost of a chance
that you’ll crack my code,
free-wheeling know-it-all
that you are.
But as your hand smooths
that errant strand of hair
back into its perfect place,
I’ll hand you this:
every time you check your reflection
in the mirror behind the bar,
it is clear no number of looks
will clue you in to yourself.
http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/wednesday-poetry-prompts-368
photo and collage by jdb
Waiting for the Rest of Her Life
She has faith in the future that her life will fit.
She sits at home patiently, planning on it.
But as she sits waiting for the rest of her life,
the fear it won’t happen cuts like a knife.
As day after day goes by in a whirr,
she’s starting to realize it might not occur.
Her little white dog lies curled up beside her,
but stroking his coat won’t relieve what’s inside her.
She’s yearning for something–she’s not quite sure what.
Inside her, the want of it roils in her gut,
then digs itself deeper into her soul.
It’s like playing a game where she can’t find the goal.
In every city, far up, looking down,
there are folks in tall buildings, surveying the town—
every alley and walkway for as far as they can
eyes staring out as they survey and pan
the small world below them that must have an answer
to this life that’s consuming them like a slow cancer.
I want to tell them that love can’t find you.
You must lean yourself over and pick up a shoe.
Put it on, then the other one. Walk out the door.
Waiting’s not what life was intended for.
We were pushed into life at the time of our birth,
and life goes on pushing all over the earth.
So all of you people with all of your faces
behind all these windows in all of these places,
Give up your pining and wishing and hoping.
No happiness lies in all of this coping.
Go find your soulmate, no matter the weather,
and then you can spend your life waiting together.
The prompt word today was “waiting.”
Arachnopanic!
Jeepers creepers, what’s a girl to do?
A great big spider just climbed into my shoe.
Don’t have a Prince Charming to drive the fella out.
Cannot think what else to do but panic and to shout.
Guess I’d better collect my wits and make a plan.
Get a glass of water, a squeegee and a pan.
Sacrifice my shoes and pour the water in.
Ruining a Jimmy Choo surely is a sin!
When I poured it in the spider scurried out.
Lifted up the squeegee and gave him quite a clout.
Squeegeed the remains into the little pan.
I’ll give it a scrubbing—later—when I can.
Go out to the garden to empty the remains.
All my sins will wash away, later when it rains.
No Prince Charming needed. I handled it myself.
Next time I’ll store my Jimmy Choos safely on a shelf!
Today’s prompt word was “Panic.”
For the past fifteen years, I’ve voted by absentee ballot in Mexico. This year I had particular problems with getting registered and thought I’d failed when suddenly, as if by magic, I received my absentee ballot via e-mail. My good fortune, as I’m presently visiting in the states and I can just mail it in this year and it will get there in time! So, I connected my laptop to my friend’s printer and pressed the “print” button. This, truthfully, was the result.
Absentee Ballot
When I went to print the ballot out,
minutes later I had to shout
“Stop!!!!” when minute after minute
the printer always had more in it!
It printed out ream after ream
no end in sight—so it would seem.
To vote for president was simple,
but that just seemed to be a pimple
on the ass of all the choices
for which they sought to hear our voices.
Senators for state and nation,
congressmen, then more frustration:
water boards and State Assembly,
then measures ’til my hands grew trembly.
Statements by candidates to rate,
endorsements, ballot measure debate,
instructions, warnings, declarations
occasioning more perturbations.
School bonds, statutes, legislation,
reeled out with no hesitation.
Tax extensions,cigarette tax,
laws that we were asked to axe.
School laws that were multilingual,
laws prophylactic, cunnilingual.
Initiatives on marijuana,
and fire protection made me wanna
rip my hair and cuss and scream.
Still out they rolled, ream after ream.
When I got to number sixty-seven,
it made me want to pray to heaven,
“Please, dear God, not one measure more
or I’ll soon be at heaven’s door!”
I gave the ballot one more poke
as with one sure determined stroke,
I banned the plastic bag, then broke
my pen over my knee–a joke,
for then another page popped out
as victory smirk turned into pout.
District initiatives, then county
made me rue this voting bounty.
For when I thought that I was done,
I discovered I had just begun.
Pages? Thirty-seven in all
are printed out, before they fall
fluttering, onto my floor.
The printer burps, pops out one more.
“Oath of Voter” said this one.
And so I cussed. And I was done!!!
The prompt today was “Perplexed.”
painting by James Hollis. Available on etsy
Radical Rabbits
Radical rabbits jump the stump
and conservatives with one big jump,
but they’ve been known to butt and bump
such right wing radicals as Trump.
This right wing radical, slightly crazy,
seems to leave some voters hazy
and spin their judgement upsy-daisy,
making their thinking super lazy.
Radicals aren’t all on the left.
Extreme’s the warp but not the weft.
One loose of tongue and good at theft
might leave our country most bereft.
If conservative’s your bent,
when you hear him spew and vent,
would you wish him to be sent
to D.C. as your president?
Radical’s found on either side––
right and left of where you bide.
Please cast your vote for a bonafide
choice that is not suicide!
Radical rabbits may be slightly
more to the left than you deem rightly.
Still their motives shine out brightly
and they are not as unsightly!!!
Yes, you guessed it. The prompt today was “Radical.” The electricity went out as I was writing this so I hurried to get it posted. Wish I’d had a bit more time for rewriting and perhaps I’ll do so later, especially for that last line which only scans if you read it as intended––with the stress on “they, not, as and sight!” Hope to find a better solution when the lights come back!!!
Afar
Twinkle twinkle little star
I can’t approach you with a car.
A train can’t reach you, nor a plane.
To walk up to you is inane.
Though I crave your brilliant shine,
I fear you never will be mine.
I’ll be content with lesser things
like fairy lights and diamond rings.
But when I see this earthly bling,
I will not think of anything
except for you, so far above.
Things out of reach prompt longer love.
The prompt word today was “Twinkle.”
