Category Archives: Poetry

Poems in many categories: Loss, NaPoWriMo

Just Do It

Just Do It

Change need not be a hazard. It can be a brand new start.
Thinking up potential problems puts the horse behind the cart.
Just think of what you want to do and set about creating
what it is you want to do. Life’s not best spent in waiting.


Today’s prompt words were haphazard and change.
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/19/fowc-with-fandango-haphazard/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/11/19/your-daily-word-prompt-change-November-19-2018/

In the Corner Tea Shop

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In the Corner Tea Shop

It was a sort of lunacy
that prompted our grand comedy.
One sticky bun, two mugs of tea
predated our dependency.
As you passed, you looked so yearningly
at that last bun, and jealously
surveyed my plate most zealously,
wishing it had gone to thee.

Later, when you got up to pee,
I took note of your truancy
and put the bun where it should be—
there on your plate. When finally,
you returned, you viewed with glee
where that bun had come to be,
viewing it most quizzically
and pondering the mystery
of this delicious legacy.
You glanced around to try to see
its origins, and finally,
you saw my empty plate, and me.

I remember with such piquancy

how swiftly you ensorcelled me—
first with your smile, and eventually
by your approach and finally
by your sweet generosity
as you brought the bun to share with me,
sat at my table, crossed foot on knee,
and conversed with so much vibrancy
that “I” and “you” turned into “we.”

It was our first romantic tryst—

A morning tea break with a twist.

 

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The prompt words today were mug, tryst, lunacy and ensorcell. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/11/18/rdp-sunday-mug/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/18/fowc-with-fandango-tryst/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/11/18/lunacy/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/11/18/your-daily-word-prompt-ensorcell-November-18-2018/

New Roommate, Chapter 2

New Roommate, Chapter 2

I have the need to be alone, to hide away, sequester,
but my roommate never leaves the room! She’s somewhat of a nester.
She seems to be ensconced here with her creepy boyfriend Lester,
and my irritation’s turned into a boil about to fester.
I may not make it to the end of the next semester
when I can find a roommate who is less of a rester.
She can be a talker or messy or a jester.
She can use my makeup, wear my clothes or gripe and pester.
In fact, I will take anyone short of a child molester,
so long as she’s a roamer—a gad-about, a quester!!!!

 

See Chapter 1 HERE.

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/11/16/sequester/

New Roommate, Chapter 1

New Roommate, Chapter 1

I hope I’ll be forgiven if I’m driven to impose
and point out that the place that you have chosen for repose
is on my bed, not yours, and on my freshly laundered clothes!
You’ve drooled on my new-pressed jeans and snagged my finest hose
and that’s my favorite blouse there beneath your dripping nose,
and though you look most comfortable in that snuggling pose,
I fear you and your boyfriend I simply must depose.
Is it possible to move to your own bed, do you suppose?

(See Chapter 2 HERE.)

The prompt for today was “impose.” Here is the link:
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/17/fowc-with-fandango-impose/

 

Birthday Wishes

 

Birthday Wishes

If there were a chemical to freeze your age forever,
where you would stay the way you are, as mobile, fit and clever.

Birthday after birthday with no end in front of you.
Always a new chance to take, always something new.

If you were not already feeble, halt and ill,
would you drink the potion? Would you take the pill?

No altering minds afterwards. No climbing from the pit.
Once you made the decision, there would be no changing it.

Would you want to live forever to survive ’til mankind’s end?
Do you really want to see what is waiting ’round the bend?

I think given the choice that I would choose what nature dishes.
I’ve  given up on following along with mankind’s wishes.

 

 

The word prompts today are birthday, chemical, freeze and quit. Here are their links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/11/14/rdp-wednesday-birthday/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/14/fowc-with-fandango-chemical/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/11/14/freeze/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/11/14/your-daily-word-prompt-quit-November-14-2018/quit

Touchy Subject, for dVerse Poets

Touchy Subject

My soul, once slippery as an seal,
that eased as easily as an eel
to heaven and back, a wave worn path,
like slippy-sliding in the bath,
has grown rough ridges that jerk me back
into the mosh pit with the pack.

We flail with elbows, boot tips, knees—
all of us caught within the squeeze
of what we hate and knock against,
beat fist and teeth and cock against.
It’s like a cageless, viral zoo,
this rough world we’ve evolved into.

The whole world’s in each other’s viewing,
killing, ripping, tearing, chewing.
We touch the keys to tear asunder,
ravage, rape, ransack and plunder.
These same hands that could stroke the keys,
pound and punish, grab and seize.

We Tweet or Snapchat, Facebook, Skype,
barely touching as we type.
We are so constantly in touch
that we do not consider much
that in our constant online dealing,
we should give more thought to feeling.

We cannot feel a handshake’s squeezing,
warm and tender, pressured, pleasing,
when we’re too far away to touch.
We cannot feel so very much.
We feel with organs meant for thinking,
and make connections without linking.

Those of us who predate the text
tend to fear what’s coming next.
A simple touch could end the world—
all of us pulverized and hurled
into a place where nothing lingers.
No tongue, no lips, no questing fingers.

https://dversepoets.com/2018/11/13/tuesday-poetics-touch-me/

Family Reunion, Off the Grid

Click on first photo to enlarge all.  

 

 

 

Family Reunion, Off the Grid

We find the key to the lake cabin
there where it always was above the eaves trough,
enter that family space deserted for so many years
and claim our old rooms.
Bring in firewood piled on the porch thirty years ago
and draw together at the trestle table
over dinners gathered
from the ice chests in the trunks of cars.

Dependent for so many years
on cell phones, e-mail and Facebook,
we grow listless over the loss of cell tower and wifi,
fall back on family videos from the far past,
and having exhausted that sparse shelf,
resort to family albums, dusty with accumulated years.

Over those cryptic signals from the past,
we begin to remember more,
and recall scraps of ourselves
that give a meaning to the name of scrapbook.
With no single screens possible,
we draw together over simple common images.

Dad in the neighbor lady’s hat,
sis in diapers and my mother’s heels,
my tea towel sarong and doily hat,
Mother, young enough to be our granddaughter,
in a stylish hat tipped down over one eye,

Middle sister standing triumphant at the top
of the slide she later fell from the top of—
a past truth I might have never known
if not sealed up, like this,
away from the wider world
and those parts of ourselves
that keep flying off to it.

I take her hand, grateful for her survival.
Just the two of us, now,
everyone else sealed up in this peeling album.
We put them to sleep again as we close its cover.
In the morning, restore the key,
nestle the “For Sale” sign more securely
into its mooring place and divide to our separate worlds,
the box of videos under my arm,
the family scrapbooks under hers.

The prompt words are past, video, listless and dependent.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/11/13/ragtag-tuesday-past/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/13/fowc-with-fandango-video/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/11/13/listless/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/11/13/your-daily-word-prompt-dependant-November-13-2018/