Category Archives: Poetry

Broken

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DSC09968
Broken

Though I can’t say that I’ve been missing
hugs and cuddling and kissing,
still I have a memory of
those intimacies wrought by love.

It is as though there’s some obstruction
probably of my own construction
that makes me concentrate on things
instead of all that loving brings.

It’s true that objects may be lost,
but still, it’s not at half the cost.
For it is when loved ones are taken
that one’s world is truly shaken.

When objects break, it pains our purse,
but losing people is much worse.
For when death rends lovers apart,
the thing that’s broken is a heart

For My Vivi Blog’s prompt: Broken

Timekeepers

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Timekeepers

My dogs have clocks for stomachs.
I don’t know how they do it.
They value things by the extent
to which a dog can chew it.

Their feeding time is 8 AM
and without exception,
at precisely 7:59,
they demand  my attention

by pouncing on my stomach,
rousing me from sleep
so our kibbles appointment
I am sure to keep.

It happens every morning,
daily without exception.
It does no good for me to try
to practice a deception

by pulling covers over head
and feigning a deep sleep,
for my canine companions
have agendas I must keep.

Grumbling, I roll out of bed
to pee and then to sprint
to fulfill their 8 o’clock feeding
with no further hint!

So, seeing that I post each day
faithfully by nine,
do not merely credit me.
My incentive is canine.

Image by Cintage 72 Prompters: Zoe and Coco!!!

Prime

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Travel Primer (Past Our Prime!)

We wander narrow alleyways in countries that are foreign—
negotiate their tunnels, like rabbits in a warren.
We do not pay attention as we ogle and we gawk
who may follow closely—who may observe and stalk.
We are naive travelers. We’re innocents abroad.
One listens to our narratives, then signals with a nod
just as we are reaching to try to reimburse,
for another watcher to swoop down on our purse.
Then they’re off down alleyways where we are loath to go
where they’ll have their own adventures—financed by our dough.

For #SOCS Oct 7, the prompt is “Prime.”

 

Stop and Go

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Stop and Go

My goals in life were nebulous. I didn’t know quite what
it was that I most wanted—except out of my rut.
A picket fence and cottage were not part of my dream.
I didn’t want to produce children by the ream.
I only wanted travel and to see who I could be
if I wandered far enough to discover me.

I finally found a part of me everywhere I went,
but had to keep on traveling to know the full extent
of who I wished to grow into—that self I wished to find—
how much I could reveal of me and still have peace of mind.
But now I’ve seemed to settle. I’m content with what I’ve found.
The place where I have come to rest seems like holy ground.

Perhaps true wisdom really comes from knowing when to stop—
knowing when we’ve climbed enough because we’ve reached the top!

Michelle’s prompt today is Stop!  This is a rewrite of a poem from years ago. Thanks, Michelle, for helping me to rediscover it.

Shipwreck, for Wordle 621

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Shipwreck

In spite of your deep dark eyes and your other charms,
I fear I won’t be spending anymore time in your arms.
Wind and rain and reckless tides have scarred our ocean’s shore,
shifting channel stones, a dead sea denizen and more
to bar our access to that place where once we calmly drifted.
Our sea of love’s grown stormy and  the sands of love have shifted.
If you had just honored that pledge you once recited,
perhaps this shipwreck of our love might somehow have been righted.
But, alas, the time is past that we can sail together.
I’ll cast my lines to mooring places safer in their tether.

 

For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 621 the prompt words are: rainy channel stone ocean bar scar shift drift honor dark eyes charms.  Photo by Eileen Flynn on Unsplash.

Crazy Socks

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Sock

Click on these gaudy socks to see them in more glorious detail!!!!!

Crazy Socks

Don’t feel that you must explain
a choice in socks that seems inane.
Sunflowers or checks or plaid
or other patterns in which you gad
should be nobody’s choice but yours.
Black socks are gloomy. White socks bores.
If you would please from top to toe,
choose the socks that make you glow.

Sox that glitter, clash or shock
better propel you ’round the block.
Those who balance on fashion’s fence
may well question your fashion sense
if you wear socks with chickens on them.
But go ahead and buy and don them.
You’ll start the day in mood more spritely
if you dress your feet more brightly!!!

 

 

For the Wednesday Prompts Weekly Challenge: Socks

Scorpion in the Sacristy

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Scorpion in the Sacristy

Minuscule but powerful, it causes us to shake.
The most masculine among us have been known to quake
and to seek protection whenever one is seen,
for it is rumored that their punch is wicked mean.
They inspire colorful language from the subjects of their strikes,
because it’s understatement to simply scream out “Yikes!”
when stricken by a scorpion. The occasion calls for more,
and that is why the village priest was pardoned when he swore
as he removed the host veil and was stung upon the hand,
for though the Holy Father issued a reprimand
for the sin of taking the name of Christ in vain,
since the priest was still in shock and reeling in his pain,
not one of his parishioners, it’s said, has censored him,
for each and every one of them thanked God  it wasn’t them!

Prompt words today are colorful, minuscule, punch, quake, protection and seen.

Spring Picnic

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Aunt Stella being silly at a family picnic. I was imitating her.

Spring Picnic

That first tidbit of food
swallowed—
that morsel of potato salad
or that sip of lemonade—
activates what April picnics
are fated to attract
as surely as ants—
afternoon rains,
predicted as a slight chance
for this vicinity,
but now diluvial
in their force.

 

For dVerse Poets Open Link. Night  and also making use of these six prompts from different sites: food, vicinity, diluvial, tidbit, activate and afternoon.

(Hover over the photo for a second to read the caption.)

Pieces of Toast

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Pieces of Toast

They dip into
the smooth
round yolk
of a fading dream.

They interfere,
these conscious words,
an uninvited jentacular
mob that enters

without invitation,
shedding their crumbs.
I make exception
and surrender
control,

accepting
their sharp crisp corners
into the broken centers
of my smooth round
subterranean
stanzas.

For NaPoWriMo 2029, Day 29 the prompt is to write about food personified. Piece of toast!!!
And, coincidentally, for RDP, whose prompt today is food!
Photo downloaded from Unsplash

Love Letters: Body of Love for NaPoWriMo 2023, Day 28

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 “Did you know that the parts of letters all have names — including spines, shoulders, hairlines, ears, arms, legs, tails, and crotches?” (FromThe Complete Manual of Typography, A Guide to Setting Perfect Type,” by James Felici.) Thanks to Elizabeth Boquet for this information, which prompted this poem:

Body of Love

Stiff spine
of its beginning,
the bare shoulders
of its attraction.

I trace the hairlines
of your thoughts,
whisper love poems
into your ears.

Imagine you
wrapped around me:
arms, legs—
that animal remembrance
of primordial tails.

This is the womb of poetry,
giving birth to words.
I offer you a bouquet of them .

                                                                                                       –Judy Dykstra-Brown

For NaPoWriMo 2023, Day 28