Category Archives: Poetry

Poems in many categories: Loss, NaPoWriMo

Providence


Providence

The angriest skies contain the germ of the next day’s sun.
No matter what pervades your day, once that day is done,
your prospects for a better day already have been cast,
for the material of our future is gathered from our past.

Clear skies are born from thunder clouds and summer days from mist.
Tomorrow’s field of flowers is held in the tempest’s fist.
You may call me Pollyanna, but I can attest

to the truth that oftentimes the worst is followed by the best.

 

 

 

 

 Prompt words today are clear skies,contain, angry,pervade and material.

Coup de Coeur

Coup de Coeur

You have built a tunnel—a channel to my heart.
I should have seen it sooner, should have known it from the start.
Now you foment discord to make me feel unrest.
None of the others calm the storm. I know you are the best.
It is a sort of power. Therefore, I must not fall.
Yet I cannot resist it, for I love you most of all.
I might have wed for power. Now I must wed for love.
How can I rule somebody who fits me like a glove?
My friends find it hilarious I’ve let my defense down

to substitute a bridal veil for my royal crown.
I guess I’ll have to settle for a democracy
now that you have staged a coup on my monarchy.

Prompt words today are tunnel, therefore, hilarious, channel and foment.

Skywriting

Skywriting

Invisible patterns are there, nonetheless,
and they are what write my poems, I confess.
That’s why they’re birthed without any strain
and what brings me back again and again
as a surrogate mother for verses and stories
that repeat life’s foibles, beauties and glories.
Varied in humor and import and skill,
they may display failure or conquest or will.
Some may tell truth and others small lies.
They instigate laughter or irrigate eyes.
But however, once birthed, my expressions may fare,
they were there all the time–right out in the air
for anyone to arrange or abuse them.
I’m just the one who elected to use them.

Prompt words today are invisible, pattern, foible, variable and strain.

School Reunion

1960

School Reunion

I love school reunions, it goes without saying.
Rehashing our virile youth now that our hair is graying,
our stories grow much shorter as our memories are fraying.
I’ve drunk nostalgia from the cup, but now there’s no delaying.

The past is always with us, but alternatives I’m weighing.
I’ve an acumen for homecoming, but no talent for staying.
Once the bloom is off the rose, I have to be off straying.
The past is a dead horse, whereas my future self is neighing!

2016
(Click on photos to increase size and view as slides.)

If you want to know how I colorized that old black and white photo, go here: https://deepai.org/machine-learning-model/colorizer

Prompts for the day are homecoming, acumen, bloom and drunk.

Exculpatory Failure: The Cookie Caper


Exculpatory Failure: The Cookie Caper

My sister can’t explain the fate
of cookies missing from the plate.
A generous portion merely vanished
to unknown realms furtively banished.

Here, for instance is an example
of why she couldn’t take a sample:
she couldn’t reach the cookies there
so high above her tangled hair—
an argument I must impeach,
for they are not beyond her reach.

And so I cannot exculpate
her innocence in this debate.
The cookies have indeed gone missing.
The coffee pot is gently hissing
and I can’t accept her bluff
of why there are not cookies enough
for all my mother’s friends to chew
even one, let alone two!

My mother baked hour after hour
so they’d have plenty to devour,
yet now there are a paltry few.
I guess they’ll have to just make do

with a cookie each or less.
Good for their dieting, I guess.

Who can the guilty culprit be?
My sister hopes they’ll think it’s me
who stole said cookies from the plate
and not that tiny reprobate
with chocolate crumbles on her lips
and frosting on her fingertips.

My little sis, so innocent,
admits not where those cookies went.
Yet that bonanza clearly resides
somewhere within her own insides.

Today’s prompt words are bonanza, example, generous and exculpate.

The Vile Effects of Cabbage

The Vile Effects of Cabbage

I love eating cabbage, but its end results are crass.
It may affect digestion with propensity towards gas.
Between you and your closest friends it may create a scism
as you rival wild leaves in the wind with your psithurism.

Prompt words today are cabbage, propensity, psithurism (the sound of the wind in the trees and the rustling of leaves) and affect. Illustration thanks to Ibuki Tsubo on Unsplash. Used with permission.

Pills or Porn


Pills or Porn

My Spam mail’s always full of it, midnight, day or morn.
Who told them I’m in need of a daily dose of porn?
If I took the Viagra that they offer to me daily,
I wouldn’t be in need of porn to end my evenings gaily.

I’d simply cruise the malecón in search of company
flirting with each senior dude that I happen to see.
I’d freeze him with a subtle wink and flash one of my smiles,
then win him over quickly with coquettish wiles.

If he has any qualms at all, due to his advanced age,
I’d flash further encouragement that’s come to be the rage.
With great sophistication and a sense of calm,
I’d show him the Viagra I have stashed in my palm.

But this poem is misleading if you think I’m reliant
on you as a supplier. I’m not a likely client.
For vendors of Viagra, I have a tale of woe:
I can get it cheaper right here in Mexico!

Thanks to Lisa Coleman of  Our Eyes Open  for the suggestion that I turn a comment regarding Spam mail into a blog.  I was commenting about receiving 96 Spam messages in one day and most of them being about pills or porn. Oh man, is this blog every going to bring in a lot of Spam concerning Amoxicillin, Viagra and pornography!!! See how I sacrifice for you?

Non-inherited Tendencies

Non-inherited Tendencies

I am forty-three years old. Why is it that my mother still feels it is her purpose in life to educate me?

She stands in front of the junk drawer in my kitchen, “There is no excuse for anyone to have a drawer like this in their house,” she says. With one finger, she rifles through the drawer, moving a pair of pliers closer to fifty peso bills for the water vendor  that are piled to its left, sending loose screws rolling across the bottom of the drawer.

I reach around her to hand her the pair of scissors she seeks. Then, once again, I careen into the precipice of self-doubt. Surely, others less-perfect than my mother have drawers such as this one.

My qualms deteriorate as I readjust my thoughts to coincide with the actual world, but as I restate mentally and silently my oft-repeated mantra. “What the eyes don’t see doesn’t matter,” my mother, briskly and methodically, starts arranging the drawer. 

 

Word prompts for today are What the eyes don’t see doesn’t matter, deteriorate, educate and precipice.

Accountability

Accountability

You excel in tendencies of aplomb and civility
and I’ve had no complaints about your overall virility.
You aren’t a complainer. I admit you aren’t a mooch.
I love your chili verde and I love the way you smooch.

I adore your sense of humor—your playfulness and jive,
your artistic fervor, your energy and drive.
In short, you are a paragon of fun and versatility,
and in our years together, you have had accountability.

But, your claim to innocence when I begin to holler
due to my discovery of lipstick on your collar,
leads me to declare that my past trust in you is over
now that you have turned into a liar and a rover.

You would truly have to turn into a necromancer
to convince me that you aren’t a cheat and a romancer.
Though your sex appeal’s an asset here in your abode,
it became grounds for divorce when you took it on the road!

Prompts for the day are accountability, drive, mooch and jive. (I think this is the first time in seven years that I’ve written to two prompts that happen to rhyme with each other.)

“That” Girl

“That” Girl

I imagine her a gabble-ratchet, such a vocal child—
talkative and stubborn, clever, loud and wild.
Loyal to her friends, solid without a glitch.
It was not her way to waffle or to snitch.
All who entered her domain followed where she led.
If they were her arms and legs, surely, she was their head,
ruling her world with personality and *wit.
All her minions swarmed around to be part of it.
If her town had had a castle, she’d have been its resident.
Instead she had to just make do with Vice-president!

 

*”Why is KamalaHarris the only person that laughs at her jokes… always way to long and way too hard?” Mr Trump’s son asked. “You wouldn’t know a joke if one raised you,” she wrote back.

Prompt words today are president, snitch, gabble-ratchet and personality. Image by Kiana Bosman on Unsplash, used with permission.

GABBLE-RATCHET. As well as being an old English dialect word for a noisy child, a gabble-ratchet is any nocturnal bird (particularly geese) that makes a lot of noise at night, once considered to be an ill omen.