Category Archives: Poetry

Poems in many categories: Loss, NaPoWriMo

Adulation and Lamentation

Adulation and Lamentation

Held captive by your luscious smile, I state the total truth
when I say you are perfection, both in lip and tooth!
Your hair’s no less than gossamer. Your figure scores a ten.
No greater beauty’s lauded by any poet’s pen.
 
Thanks to both your parents for creating such perfection.
Hereafter we must ostracize beauty of less confection.
It’s clear they scored a victory when they created you,
so why stop at one instead of making us a few?

 

Prompt words for the day are luscious, thanks, victory, ostracize and captive.

McDonald Duck and Friends

 

McDonald Duck and Friends

I know a certain Donald— a king of pass the buck
who to leadership is much less suited than that duck
with whom he shares a name but whose smarts and application
far exceed the POTUS who prefers a golf vacation
to tending to affairs of state except to prompt aggression,
medical misinformation, racism, secession
in order to create a place where he would be the King
relieving congress and the courts from every single thing.

He’d sit up in his tower once the senate had resigned,
ruling at his leisure far above the daily grind,
digressing into fun and games—a golf game, maybe two,
stopping in for French fries and big Macs with extra goo.
He’d sit upon his golden thrown waiting for his bribes
to be delivered daily from his well-heeled tribes.
Courts would not be needed, for guns would rule the day,
trading in extortion in lieu of legal pay.

Let the country go to hell so long as billionaires
go on stockpiling more cash to soothe away their cares.

 

Word prompts today are leadership, resign, duck, digress and application. photo by Amir Abbas Abdolali on  Unsplash. Used with permission.

Thinking Cap

Thinking Cap
What transpires in a brain in just a single minute
would astound us if we listed everything that’s in it.
What miracle surpasses it? Its creative motion
distills possibility from every single notion.

Our thoughts spiral outward into the universe.
From the wheel to a moon landing, back to a Gucci purse.
From minute to universal, from profound to superficial,
from a child’s imaginings to great schemes more official,

The very thought that thought exists chills me to the bone.
Of all nature’s created, the human brain alone
is a miracle most magical. In fact and art and myth it
defines every one of us by what we may do with it.

Prompt words today are notion, spiral, surpass, transpire and minute.

Fog

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Fog

What draws me to the cabin that beckons through the wood?
I’d take the rail-straight pathway if I only could,
but I have no legs to walk that sidewalk in.
Nor can I see the night around it, black as deepest sin.
I only feel that darkness, for I have no eyes.
I cannot see the pine woods or things in any guise.
I cannot smell the fog that lifts from forest floor.
I cannot see the shaft of light that leads me to its door.
I cannot feel the cushion of bracken or of pine,
for all of these sensations are no longer mine.
The scene they build in memory may not be as it seems,
for what I am remembering may be the stuff of dreams.

 

For What Do You See #31 prompt

Grandma’s Fond Farewell

 

Photo thanks to Matthew T. Rader on Unsplash, used with permission

Grandma’s Fond Farewell

Your gossamer lies are a shortcut to hell.
I can see right through them, I know you so well.
You’re strung out on acid or some new equivalent.
After so much of this, I’ve grown ambivalent.

As you heft up your back pack to strap to your bike,
I’m relieved that you’re finally taking a hike.
The fact that you’re storming out suits me just fine.
Let your dad deal with his son like I dealt with mine!!!

Word prompts today are: gossamer, shortcut, acid, heft and equivalent.

Sixteen

Sixteen

She met him at the harvest dance.
An act of fate, they met by chance.
The very first grown man she kissed,
he was a traveling journalist,
and she had barely got love’s gist
when he vanished in the mist.
For reference, she had not any.
She had not made love with many
and those she’d had were only boys,
as unacquainted with the joys
of mature love as she had been,
for they were only kids, not men.

She found it tedious at best
to spoon with any of the rest,
and yet she tried, and kept a list
in which she rated and she dissed
those teenage lovers that were left
once journalism left her bereft
of seasoned lover who had pleased her
whereas all the rest just squeezed her
wrong, somehow. They smacked and cuddled,
yet, somehow, they all just muddled
what she’d had occasion once, perchance,
to experience at the harvest dance.

She finally devised a plot
wherein she could improve her lot.
She’d do a deed of much renown
to draw her lover back to town.
And this is why she planned the prank
wherein she would rob the bank.
Of course she’d send the money back.
The larcenous gene she seemed to lack,
but this would create so much news
that she was fairly sure he’d choose
to come investigate the crime,
and that would be the perfect time
to improve her skills of woo.
He’d be her prey and she’d count coup.

For a week, her schemes just perked.
She watched and waited, planned and lurked

watching for the perfect time 
to enact her lovelorn crime.
And, finally, the time seemed good.

She donned a long-armed cloak with hood,
took her daddy’s gun and, masked,
said “Stick ’em up” when she was asked
if she was seeking to deposit,
distressing her, it seems, because it
seemed to  cause so little pause,
from the teller, perhaps because

the teller, who was also masked,
gave her a sucker before she asked
what transaction she might mean
to request on this Halloween!

And so it was the plot was foiled.
By mistiming, her plans were spoiled.
She abandoned larceny
and resumed her tomfoolery
with the local high school boys
wherein they all discovered joys
by practice to bring that surcease
she’d sought to learn by expertise.

 

Prompt words for today are journalist, referencetedious, list and pleased.

Daybreak

Daybreak

It’s a classic beginning for another day.
I push the covers out of the way,
fumble to find my glasses and shoes,
open the curtains to drown out the blues.

I am a champion at choosing a mood.
I refuse to be grumpy. Choose not to brood.
I put on my attitude before my clothes,
donning my blessings instead of my woes.

 

 

Today’s word prompt are the blues, classic, fumble and champion.

Unavoidable Photo Session

 

Unavoidable Photo Session

I refresh my makeup,
surrender to the camera,
and when I see the photographs,
force a quick acceptance.
I need to diet
and I am growing old.

 

Word prompts today are surrender, photograph, quick, refresh and acceptance.

Old Friends

Photo by Alessandro Bellone on Unsplash, used with permission

Old Friends

We are grappling with our friendship over difference of opinions.
My beliefs are liberal. He’s one of Donald’s minions.
He won’t put up with teasing. I can’t bear his iron will.
Of faux patriotic slogans, I fear I’ve had my fill.
How can it be that all those years I thought that he had heart,
he was harboring this meanness? When did it get its start?
This virus in our populace that masks as patriotism

spreads misinformation, creating such a schism
that no bridge can be long enough to bring us all together.
The strength of our convictions seems to hold us at short tether.
When will come the end of it, and if that end should come,

what will end this great discordance and restore the hum
of democratic harmony? Are voices so distorted
that we cannot reclaim the friends with whom we once consorted?
When I walk the streets where we once walked, my former friend and I,
he crosses to the other side if he sees me walk by.
When change comes, certain evils must come to an end,
but I don’t think it will mend the hearts of me and my old friend.

Word prompts for today are tease, iron, opinion, grapple and friendship.

Visitations

Visitations

He hovers in the corner less frequently now. His face is rarely seen in clouds. He leaves no further messages as the cats walk over my computer keys. It is true that sometimes I catch the scent of him, but it’s not often and not for long. Who knows how long a spirit is tied to earth? The cats sense him sometimes, as do the dogs. The candelabra with its arms arched upwards and the carved wooden Virgin of Guadalupe statue rising up like a head in front of it, in a dark room backlit by kitchen lights, has given me a start now and then; but I soon realize it is not him. None of these places are where I keep him now. It is only long after midnight, when, exhausted, I fall to dreams, that his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream.

 

 

For the dVerse Poets Pub prompt, we are to write a 144 word prose piece that contains the quote “his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream” from Maya Angelou’s poem “Caged Bird.” Read other responses to the prompt HERE.