Category Archives: Poetry

Poems in many categories: Loss, NaPoWriMo

Xmas 2021—A Year in Review

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Xmas 2021—A Year in Review

How quickly now the new year waxes—
parties, valentines, then taxes
coming up in twenty-two,
when finally we’ll get to view
two-thousand-twenty-one as past—
a year that left us all aghast.

It’s doubtful we’d want to repeat
the year science failed to defeat
that curse it only vilipended
but, alas, it never ended.
It was another year most taxing—
too much discord, too little paxing.

I must lay out the brutal truth.
All-in-all, a year uncouth!!!!

Prompts today are finally, doubtful, pax, vilipend and layout.

Weddings Banned–Market in a Tailspin

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Weddings Banned–Market in a Tailspin

They’re banning marriage in America. The vote has just come in.
Such illicit gatherings are now declared a sin.
No flower-littered church aisles. No presents neatly wrapped.
Ring bearers are now passé, honeymoon routes unmapped.

Parsons and priests are limited to un-bridal functions:
baptisms and funerals, sermons and  extreme unctions.
Department stores will probably have to cut back hours
when they feel the drop in sales from no more bridal showers.

The diamond market has gone bust as have sales of cake.
Bakeries are trying to think of other things to make
like maybe first-date cookies or three-tiered valentines,
make-out brownies, passion pies or set-up clementines.

Nationwide, each future bride is busy now, I’m certain,
altering her bridal veil into a window curtain.
The only positive result is no more bridesmaid dresses
of nylon net or taffeta or other gauche excesses.

No reason has been given for this bizarre decision
that’s met with voter outrage and the whole world’s derision.
The press without exception declares this law as dastardly,
declaring that an entire generation will be bastardly.

Kids will not bear fathers’ names. Connections will be lost,
with only mothers being the ones to bear the cost
of doctor bills and dental bills and clothes and vaccinations,
of summer camp and prom dresses and college educations.

The men will all be free to sleep with any random hottie
and spend their dough on gambling debts or a new Maserati.
Perhaps that is the secret of why nine out of ten
legislators voted for the law–they are all men!

Prompt words today are illicit, gathering, unction, flower and wrapped, Image by Ben White on Unsplash.

Love on Line

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Love on Line

These
nocturnal visits
over Love.Com
require no suitcase,
bring no human feet
over my threshold.
Only conversation
hollow in its lack
of pulse beat

echoes through it.
Too much of our world
absent from the other parts.
Too many empty chambers
with great sound systems.
Too many tapping fingers.
Waiting eyes.

 

Prompts today are suitcase, hollow, bring, nocturnal.

Air Despair

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Air Despair

I get goosebumps every time I travel via jet,
but I haven’t  crashed and burned or perished as of yet.
Pedants say my chances of crashing are remote,
but nonetheless, if I could choose, I’d rather take a boat.

The revelry is greater and the distance to the ground
is cushioned way much better with water all around.
It’s easier to stretch one’s legs, there’s shuffleboard, a pool,
and every cabin has a bed with private sink and stool!

Although planes are faster, what’s the hurry? What’s the rush?
Consider airplane food, the tiny restrooms and the crush.
First class in planes has nothing on last class in luxury cruisers.
In short, I think planes were invented for impatient losers!!

Prompts today are revelry, jet, pedant and goosebumps.

Poetic License in a Temperate Climate

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Poetic License in a Temperate Climate

December’s moved south of the border where it isn’t so icy and cold,
but still of all of the months of the year, it’s the one where the weather’s most bold.

It’s that time of the year where I profit from staying in bed until nine,
my bed being where I feel warmest—snuggled in blankets, supine.

At seven and eight it is silent, each dog still curled in his bed,
as I burrow into my poem of the day, rousting it out of my head.

It finds a new home on my hard drive, thus quelling my need to relate
as all of my creative juices suddenly seem to abate.

As my poetry swells to fruition, I finally stir from my nest
to dress in my toe socks and leggings, my sweater and wooly warm vest.

A poem survives any weather, surrounded by peers on the screen,
but even in temperate countries, December remains the most mean.

By April, I’ll feel warm and toasty and I’ll need a different reason
for staying in bed until nine when it is such a perfectly temperate season.

 

Yes, it’s true. I even wear them in bed!  Prompt words today are December, profit, silent,
quell and home.

Family Feud

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Family Feud

The quarrels in my family are numerous at best.
If I say they are ubiquitous, believe me, I don’t jest.
Daddy’s always angry. Mama’s always in a tiff.
If discord had an odor, you’d always get a whiff
as you wandered past our windows or entered our front door,
and if you thought to mention them, we’d only produce more.

Bring up race relations and there’ll be no interstice
between Daddy’s rants and ravings that display his prejudice
and Mama’s stepping in with her opposing point of view.
Then before you know it, they’ll unite to lambast you!
We seldom have a visitor and have no friends at all.
No salesmen knock upon our door and no neighbors call.

If I threw a slumber party and had friends to spend the night,
the angst here’s so infectious that we’d have a pillow fight.
No cousins ever join us at Thanksgiving to give thanks
because our extended family has fired us from its ranks.
We are the loneliest clan in town, and that for sure’s no fiction.
But— if we have nothing else, at least we have conviction!

 

Before you ask, this is fiction! Prompt words today are ubiquitous, tiff, prejudice, interstice and mention. Image by Afif Kusuma on Unsplash.

Divisible

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Divisible* 

Our species has malfunctioned and we’ve finally met our match.
It’s waited all these years for the right time for it to hatch.
First there was the ice age where we had to deal with frost,
but it seems like global warming is the place where we’ll be lost.
We’ve flaunted our dominion and must be reprimanded
It seems as though our prototype’s about to be disbanded.
It’s ironic that a virus so small that it’s invisible
might be the thing that proves that mankind might be divisible.


Divisible: capable of being divided by another number without a remainder.

Prompt words today are malfunction, flaunt, prototype, frost and match.

Missed Americas

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Missed Americas

Now that they are runway-bound,
those extravagantly gowned
are oft-driven to expound
with words not overly profound
about beliefs they’ve newly found
(overheard and swiftly downed)
just because they love the sound,
hoping in the final round,
their golden tongues will get them crowned.

 

For the dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Crown.
Image from  BBC.

Extra! Extra! Forget All About it!!! (Sunday Whirl Wordle 529)

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Extra! Extra! Forget All About it!!!

Once daily papers split the air, landing with a “plop”
on each house’s stairway, two steps from the top.
Truth was dispensed each morning for a price tag nearly free—
a neatly packaged bundle wherein we all could see
how the engine of the world moved forward bit by bit,
and the shiny torch of journalism helped us witness it.

But while we strove for justice and fairness and the truth,
other forces in the world were fighting nail and tooth,
trying to pollute the facts, and we all know why.
They were simply greedy for their share of the pie.
Did fair reporting save the day? Blind justice serve us all?
Or is it now too late to try to save us from our fall?

Rhetoric now flies freely at us through the air.
No more is it delivered daily to our stair.
Any mother’s son expounds with words twisted and ruthless,
all too often based on hate with logic cruel and truthless.
Words winging through the internet too easily meet our eyes
without the screen of logic to filter out the lies.

Reality is now for sale, scripted and rewritten,
that phony glamorous almost-world with which we all are smitten.
Our politicians, movie stars and buffoons playing roles
all have ulterior motives and short-sighted goals
wherein they build their egos, getting richer year by year,
and news of it just fades away into the atmosphere.

 

 

Prompt words for The Sunday Whirl Wordle 529 are free, papers, morning, price, wings, split, truth, shiny, engine, witness, why and strive. Top illustration by Melpo Tsiliaki, bottom illustration by Logan Weaver, both on Unsplash.

The Rear Admiral Earns His Title

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The Rear Admiral Earns His Title

The ensign and Rear Admiral, together in a boat,
after their ship’s sinking, the only ones afloat,
were trying to determine what caused their craft to sink,
dumping them at midnight from their sleep into the drink.
“Who’s at fault?” they speculated.
What misdeed had instigated
this horrific interlude
that left them soaked and nearly nude?

What meeting could be worse?
Could any tryst be more adverse?
And thus they squandered precious time
in expostulations and in mime
when they could have better plotted
in the time they were allotted
how to get out of this mess,
for it’s true, I must confess

that the boat they were in now
had a knothole in the bow
and as they fussed and fretted,
their feet and  then their legs were wetted
by seawater seeping in
that was soon up to their chin,
and  of the highest and the lowest
the one who turned out to be slowest

was cast out upon the sea,
claiming his priority,
while the one who was most rapid,
keen of eye and much less vapid,
grabbed the only life vest there
where there should have been a pair,
and shifted into his high gear
leaving the admiral in the rear.

 

Prompts for today are: meeting, squander, instigate, ensign and fault.