Wan Skies
Why do the clouds obscure the sun
so we must cancel all our fun?
Pale skies are not the stuff of dreams
and contradict our pleasure schemes.
Wan days, dark nights close like a fist—
fond hopes of love and being kissed.
Lover thus fading into mist.
For NaPoWriMo Day 6 we were to write a poem where the first word of each line forms a famous quote or line from a poem. Read the first word of each line to see the quote.
Perpetuity
Let loose of our salacious world. It’s residue set free.
Ersatz news and angry words are not what you should see.
Trivial and idle minds feed on their sensation,
then spin their lives out caught up in a constant consternation.
We choose the world where we belong by what we hear and see,
and that’s the world we live in for perpetuity.
Prompt words today are residue, trivial, salacious, ersatz and belong.
Coin Flip
I always knew that our love would be dicey.
With you sea lion slippery, piquant and spicy,
your imposition into my life
was bound to cause turmoil and possibly strife.
But you brought excitement and offered a piece
of pleasure that lasted devoid of surcease.
Both sides of the coin I was willing to share,
watching the disc as it spun in the air.
Heads you were up and tails you were down—
one side slightly clouded, the other a clown.
The cusp of your mood I could certainly bear
for the promise of future bright times we would share.
Until that last coin toss when you spun away
with no possibility of a next play—
your coin sitting silent upon a high shelf
while I learned to toss the coin for myself.
Prompt words today are sea lion, imposition, piquant and piece.
Disclaimer
He epitomizes henpecked. He’s disheveled and confused.
It’s monstrous the degree to which this househusband’s abused.
I’d be concerned except, you see, they’re only playing house
and it is my three-year-old who plays at being spouse.
I don’t know where she gets it, for her pattern can’t be me.
I am the perfect paragon in our family.
But since it’s also true that monkeys do as monkeys see,
it must be that she gets it from the movies or TV.
Prompt words for today are dishevel, henpecked, concern, epitomize and monstrous.
Shy Lover
Express the volume of my love? My dear, I cannot wait,
for I have pined for these long years just to elucidate
how my pulse rate elevates when you enter the room.
I’ve kept love in a reservoir, here in passion’s womb,
but now it’s time for it to swell and burst the gates of love.
The soaring of the arrow, the cooing of the dove,
the flowers and the chocolate will convey, perhaps
what has gone unsaid so long—a necessary lapse
for lips that do not know the way to say the things they long for—
what some men say in poetry or perhaps compose a song for—
I carry in my hands for you, hoping you’ll catch my drift
that my passion for you is expressed in every gift.
Prompt words are elucidate, pulse, reservoir, express and volume. The photo was taken by me at in kissing alley in Guanajuato. The legend is of lovers who could lean out from their balconies and kiss. Her father found out and there was a sad ending. If you want to read the supposed “true” story of this balcony, go HERE.
Sargasso Sea
Your fingertips trace patterns on my open palms,
moons on my forearms, stars on my shoulders.
You void the aches and tensions of a stressful day,
unconsciously skim over borders where no lesser traveler
would be allowed to go. Remote places become your territory.
Strong lines develop where you’ve lightly traced.
The Captain Cook of seduction,
you have skirted my boundaries, charted my seas.
Now my waters part before you and welcome you in—
complicit prisoner of my Sargasso Sea.
The Sunday Whirl Wordle prompts today are: remote unconsciously cook tracing moon patterns strong star void over fingertips lines, Photos by Birmingham Muse and Nick Moore on Unsplash.
Soulful Severance
I’m cutting off my spirit guide and giving him his severance,
for lately I’ve been feeling that I’m lacking in my reverence
for his dapper manner and instructions way too lyrical.
I find that I prefer experiences more empirical.
I’m tired of being programed by a creature less than physical,
finding his decisions to be outmoded and quizzical.
From now on, I’ll be of this world and quite a bit less soulful,
living my life to the hilt with mentors much less doleful.
Prompt words today are: guide, severance, lyrical, dapper and program. Image by JR Korpa on Unsplash.
C’est la Vie
This body she had been assigned did not seem prone to cooperate. As she reached for a salad, her hand veered off course and selected a large bowl of lasagne instead, then bypassed the carrot juice for a chilled glass of rose. She did not understand. She had been led to believe that that part of her that she had brought to the body would be in control of the brain, but that did not seem to be so. A small portion of the cheese separated itself from the body of the pasta and pooled on the plate. The body smacked its lips as it took a first succulent bite. The lasagne was delicious. She fought the reaction but it was too late. She had already experienced it.
Another body sat down beside her, to her left. It was a male body and upon the table it placed a plate of salad and a glass of carrot juice. “That looks delicious,” the body said, motioning toward her plate,
Immediately, she recognized something in this body. Something of her—as though they had somehow mixed up components. She had heard of this happening. She saw him raise the carrot juice up to his lips, casting his glance over her glass of wine longingly, regretfully.
As if on cue, she raised her own glass to her lips. “C’est la vie,” she thought, but did not give voice to it. If this was to be a dissolute life, it was not of her choosing. Some trick of fate or oversight of administration. She lifted her fork. She would be principled in her next life. It was not her fault, this slip. She might as well enjoy it.
The prompt for NaPoWriMo Day 1 for 2022 is based on Robert Hass’s remarkable prose poem, “A Story About the Body.” The idea is to write your own prose poem that, whatever title you choose to give it, is a story about the body. The poem should contain an encounter between two people, some spoken language, and at least one crisp visual image. Image by Joshua Chun on Unsplash.
Antipodes
Forever might be short, but never is much longer.
Hating may be brutal, but loving is much stronger.
Cords that bind together may hold at any angle,
but broken bonds of friendship are the ones more apt to strangle.
All things have their antipode and all things have their better.
What we wrap around us may hug or it may fetter.
In a world of opposites, be careful what you choose.
Everything we reach for is something we stand to lose.
Here is the NaPoWriMo early bird prompt: https://www.napowrimo.net/one-day-to-go-and-an-early-bird-prompt-3/ which is to write a poem based on a line from Emily Dickinson. The line I chose is: “Forever might be short.” Image by Oleg Oprisco. https://www.oprisco.com/
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 