Category Archives: Poetry

Poems in many categories: Loss, NaPoWriMo

The Duchess’s Hair Comb

The Duchess’s Hair Comb

In a very strong wind, in a leap of confusion,
a grasshopper staged an act of intrusion.
His leap took him higher than ever before
just as a visitor opened the door,
and he rocketed high over carpet and chair
to land in the dowager’s snowy white hair.
His illegal entry unplanned and unwitting,
he clung to her coiffure and he ceased his wild flitting.
As friend after friend arrived at her door,
each was given to say, “I simply adore
your new hair ornament. Is it vintage Lalique?
and they came a bit closer, the better to peek
at the grasshopper clinging within a stiff curl,
sprayed liberally so it wouldn’t unfurl.

The grand dame, a bit dotty and splendidly vain,
said over and over and over again,
“Yes, it is,” and bent over to pour out more tea.
Then she  settled again, with a cup on her knee.
As the gossip flowed on with nary a bleep,
the grasshopper settled and soon fell asleep.
By this means, he avoided a swat or a squashing
as all of the ladies continued their noshing.
They murdered each sandwich and cookie and cake,
never once taking note that her comb was a fake. 
And when the tea ended, he took a small ride
as his patron accompanied her guests all outside.
Then he took a great leap and was finally free
to luxuriate in his new liberty.

Not one person there knew the truth of the matter.
One guest told the tale to her favorite hatter
of the fabulous jewel the dowager wore
and the hatter relayed it to more and to more
of his customers, then asked the lady who wore it
if she would show him, so he, too, could adore it.
So she raided her vaults and her jewelry case,
but the jewel had vanished—was gone with no trace.
And the lady, known lately as vague and forgetful,
imagined great loss and grew angry and fretful.

She questioned her servants, then called the police,

but since she could find not a trace of the piece—
no receipts or photos or proofs of insurance—
the police could not give her any assurance
that they could recover it, and soon departed,
leaving the dowager so broken-hearted,
now convinced that this hair ornament was her favorite,
mourning the fact that no more could she savor it.
Thus goes the story that was handed down
among the servants and all over town.
It went down in history as a grand theft
that left the grand duchess sorely bereft.
While down in the garden,  hearty and hale,
her purloined jewel calmly munched on her kale.

Prompt words today are carpet, rocket, garden, intrusion and illegal.

Campused

I actually wrote two poems to the prompts today. This was one I wrote in a notebook while waiting in the dentist’s office. I decided it was sort of a downer in a time of too many downers, so I wrote another, but it called out from the notebook sitting on my desk beside my computer, so here it is with all its warts.

Campused

It’s a kind of surviving, this new life we share.
We rarely leave home and we don’t cut our hair.
We mainly commune with our kids and our spouses
and cover our faces when we must leave our houses.
We maintain a distance of six feet away.
We deterge our hands countless times every day.

A soupcon of hand sanitizer’s our goal
when touching a surface not in our control.
Not a world of our choice and not one by design,
so we sulk and we protest. We pout and we whine.
Yet we are not blameless, for it’s the result
of the short-sighted goals of the consumer cult.

Parents respond when kids get out of hand.
So, too, Mother Nature must take a stand.
She’s decided to send each of us to our room
lest we mess up her world, thus sealing its doom.
If we won’t behave, she must take a firm hand.
We’ve not followed her rules, so we have been banned.

Prompts today are survivingdesignsoupcondeterge and kind. And also, for dVerse Poets

Retribution

Retribution

I swallow screams for dinner,
hold my tongue the whole meal through.
I’m told I’ll have to eat my words
if I let slip a few.
I’m choking back the clever things
that I want to tell,
but all my smart rejoinders
simply will not jell.

“Better seen than heard,” they say,
and yet they do not see me.
If I’m not allowed to speak,
how will I ever be me?
When I grow up, I’ll talk and talk.
Never will I be quiet.
If someone tries to shut me up,
I simply will not buy it.

By then my folks will be real old.
To shush me? They won’t dare.
If they do, I’ll shush them back, 
and put them in a chair.
I’ll make them face the corner
and tell them to be quiet.
And if they say to eat my words?
I’ll say I’m on a diet!!!

 

For Poets and Storytellers United. Swallow Screams

 

“Spur”ned

 

 

“Spur”ned

Your boots are outlandish. They’re fancy and chic.
I bet they attract all the women you seek,
but your uncanny luck in attracting the ladies
won’t get you to Heaven—may take you to Hades,
for your looks are deceiving. Your spectacular start
won’t prevail when it comes to matters of heart.
Better cancel the wedding, unless, instead,
you learn when you wear your new boots to bed,
what you start you can’t finish. You’ll never be hers
If you don’t remember to take off the spurs!!!

 

Today’s prompt words are deceiving, finish, uncanny, prevail and cancel

The Lowest of the Highest by Default

The Lowest of the Highest by Default

He was a homeless jester, a contentious feisty gent.
He shed a sense of triumph everywhere he went.
No amount of scorn and no superior air
ever contradicted his shabby debonair.
In a stovepipe hat, overalls and a tux jacket,
he played his mobile xylophone, making such a racket
that folks rushed out to pay him just so he would quit.
He felt no sense of shame in this, for he took pride in it.

He had the perfect racket. He felt he counted coup—
raking in the dough for what he didn’t do.
He had a fridge crate penthouse on a tower labeled Trump.
(Also a little pied á terre across town at the dump.)
Highest of the highest and lowest of the low—
his main address  the finest though he had so little dough.
The key up to the rooftop he had scored out of a pocket
right after the janitor had gone up there to lock it.

He snitched a maintenance uniform and in the helter-skelter
of a tenant’s moving day, filched his plywood shelter.
It made a perfect domicile obscured in a back corner.
As a joke, on its front cornice, he wrote, “Residence of Horner.”*
But he dragged it to the rooftop’s front when the day was done
and had a view of city lights that was second to none.
You may think that he’s a shyster and the building’s lowest resident,
but only since the former lowest tenant became president!

 

*Little Jack Horner sat in the corner eating his Xmas pie.
He stuck in his thumb and pulled out a plum and said, “What a good boy am I!”

Words for the day are homeless, contentious, jester, amount and triumph. Image by Donald Teel on Unsplash, used with permission.

The Archbishop Gets Forgetful

The Archbishop Gets Forgetful

Priests in town know when the archbishop is about,
he’s bound to have a new batch of indulgences to tout.
And though he’s their head honcho so they must all be respectful,
when they see him coming they get super-genuflectful.
“Please dear Lord, don’t make us sell the pardons that he has!”
These days that sort of fund-raising carries no pizazz.
Paying their bills as he suggests has no appeal at all.
They’d really rather make do with St. Vincent de Paul.
Yet no one wants to tell him that selling the way to heaven
was outlawed by the church way back in fifteen sixty-seven!

Prompt words for today are honcho, pizzazz, respectful, tout and bill.

 

And A Little Child Shall Lead Them

Click on photos to enlarge. All photos used with permission from Unsplash.

And A Little Child Shall Lead Them
(For Greta Thunberg)

When it comes to children, upper classes can be haughty.
Even normal kid stuff they consider to be naughty.
They send them off to private school to simplify their keep
and their favorite time when they are home is when they are asleep.

The words and thoughts of children are rarely heard at table,
for it might upset the apple cart if they were only able
to introduce hot topics like the way this world is headed.
But, alas, they’re fed and watered and then promptly bedded

without asking what they’re thinking and of course they don’t insist.
They’re patted and they’re smiled at and they’re talked at and they’re kissed,
but their parents don’t consider how they are dissembling
and it’s their children’s future that they are disassembling.

Trashing up the oceans, melting the North Pole,
ruining the air with oil and gas and coal—
it’s the parents who are unruly and should be sent to bed
to see if kids could run things better in their stead.

 

Prompt words today are cart, asleep, hot, word and naughty. Photos from unsplash.

Rescinded Offer

Rescinded Offer

Her succinct requirements rush outward like a river.
What she expects from marriage. What she expects he’ll give her.

She tries to soften her demands with voice both soft and sweet—
habits he must abolish. Standards he should meet.

They stand before cerulean bay the color of her eyes.
Waves breaking gently on the shore first soothe, then hypnotize.

Then a clap of thunder disturbs the scenic spell.
He hears the content of her words and knows her very well.

There won’t be any marriage. She never will be his.
He’s decided to just find a girl who’ll take him as he is!

 

Word prompts for the day are cerulean bay, abolish, river, succinct and breaking.

Alarm Clock Rejoinder

IMG_5429

Alarm Clock Rejoinder

My alarm clock’s rude awakening I eschew vis-á-vis
a gentler mode of wakeup that is buzzer-free.
Questions upon awakening I find somewhat aberrant.
Kindly save your queries until I am more coherent.
If I’m a pebble that must drop into my daily start,
I pray the ripples of my morning  come farther apart.

 

Prompt words today are vis-á-vis, awakening, coherent, save and ripples,

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

I was almost mature, I was almost thin.
Now I must start all over again.
So please have compassion. Eat your own surprise.
Don’t bring me donuts or candy or pies.

I’m redoing my fridge and throwing out naughties
homemade by friends as well as my boughties.
Ice cream and truffles go straight in the bin,
for I must amend this shape I am in.

I’ll begin my diet as soon as I’m able,
pushing myself away from the table
as soon as banana bread I baked last night
has been depleted to nary a bite.

Then I’ll eat salads and green beans and stuff.
Doing without sugar will not be so tough
tomorrow. I’ll begin tomorrow, I vow.
Tomorrow works out so much better than now.

Prompt words today are almost, mature, ready, compassion and organization.