Category Archives: Poetry

Rewind

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Rewind

Cast-off loves better unmet,
daredevil acts you’d best forget—
so many choices in your past
that people said would never last
Prescient in part, their words are sage.
It’s true that you have turned the page
on all the foolishness of youth,
and yet, it must be said in truth
that memories of all that’s past
will last and last and last and last.

You’ll play them over in the dark,
your mind the screen, as you embark
upon that nightly rerun of
each painful unrequited love.
Foolish decisions you once made
reemerge in dream’s charade.
All mixed together, puzzling, dense—
a mire that defies good sense.
Until there, in your deepest being,
you’ll find the truth of what you’re seeing.

 

Prompt words for today are cast-off or cast off, prescient and daredevil. And, for NaPoWriMo: write your own sad poem, but one that, like Teicher’s, achieves sadness through simplicity.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/04/04/rdp-thursday-cast-off-cast-off/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/04/04/fowc-with-fandango-prescient/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/04/04/daredevil/

 

Green Cuisine

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Christine Goodnough knows me so well. When she issued this challenge, she probably knew I’d not only do her bidding, but exceed it.  Here is her challenge:

I enjoyed your poem very much. However, it did set my mind to whirling, especially the part about ugly words having a charm of their own. So here are a few…er…unique words. And since it’s April, they’re green. I challenge you to whip up a poem with three of them. 😉

chlorophyll
fettuccine
poison ivy
rosemary
parakeet

Greenland

Yes, of course I used not only three but all of them.  Overachievers never grow up, after all.

Green Cuisine

Since my parakeet moved to Greenland, green things are all he’ll eat,
so cuisine without much chlorophyll is sure to meet defeat.
He’ll eat poison ivy and rosemary and dill.
Basil with fettuccine is welcome in his bill.

But just plain yellow birdseed is a taste he’d never pick.
He prefers green tea ice cream even though he cannot lick.
His speed devouring veggies is the fastest I have seen
so long as I remember that those veggies must be GREEN!!

The Brush Off

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The Brush Off

A less than amicable parting, he leaves her paints and easel
but takes her masterpieces, the slimy little weasel.
As he struggles with them while slipping out the door,
she shouts her rejoinder, “I always can make more,
whereas it is less likely that you, my dear, will ever
find another bread-winner so talented and clever!”

When he runs out of money and slinks back to disarm her,
all his “mea culpas” will do nothing but rearm her.
She will hear him coming in his rattletrap old van
that he always claimed was a  sort of talisman
of those happy hippy days when he was such a charmer
that she was convinced he was her knight in shining armor.

But he has shattered her illusions ‘til there’s nothing left but rubble.
His bellbottoms are tattered and his goatee turned to stubble.
His dreadlocks fall from balding pate, his “Hey Man” is not cool.
He came into her life a god, but left it as a fool.
She’s given him the brush-off. No more is she his wife.
If he comes back he’ll only meet with her palette knife.

Prompt words today are amicable, weasel, talisman and Mea culpa.
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/03/28/your-daily-word-prompt-talisman-march-28-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/03/28/mea-culpa/
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/03/28/rdp-thursday-weasel/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/03/28/fowc-with-fandango-amicable/

Gone Fishin’

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Gone Fishin’

All of the other girls are extolling
your expertise in flirting and trolling
for available fellows here at the bar.
The barstool regulars know who you are. 
When you remove your jacket, revealing your chest,
it’s the general opinion, your bait is the best.

The only “rule” for a quadrille poem is that is has exactly 44 words, not counting the title. The prompt word was “troll.” Strangely enough, that prompt seemed to invade my next day 4-prompt posting as well.  Here’s that post:
https://judydykstrabrown.com/2019/03/26/trolls/

For the dVerse Poets Quadrille Prompt.

dVerse Poets Open Link: If I Were Water and You Were Air

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DSC01117

If I Were Water and You Were Air

I used to be restless water—
only the froth and currents
of a moving life.

Now I am still water,
sinking down to where
I can be found
by anyone willing to stand quietly
and look.

Is it true that moving water never freezes?
Is it true that still waters run deep?
Is it true that we are wed in steam?

“What if, caught by air,
it never lets me go?” I ask.

“But even water
turned to air
must fall at last,” you say.

“And what if I fall farther from you?”
I say. “Or what if I never again find banks
that open to contain me?”

I used to be swift flowing water.
Now I am a pool that sinks me deeper every year.
So deep, so deep I sink
that on its way to find me,
even air may lose its way.

 

This is a poem written 5 years ago.

For dVerse Poets.  See other poems from dVerse  HERE.

Extreme Retirement

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Extreme Retirement

My daydreams lack a focus. They float by like a cloud.
It is as though much logic is simply not allowed.
Should plans besmirch my reverie, I’m sure to blot them out,
for my thoughts are vagabonds—aimless, without a doubt.
A mortarboard and tassel lurk far within my past,
and I fear the plans they made simply didn’t last
I lie here in my lounge chair, getting too much sun.
I should  raise the umbrella, for sunburn is no fun,
but I cannot stir myself. I’m simply far too lazy.
Retirement would be easier if all the skies were hazy!

 

Prompt words today are tassel, blot, focus and besmirch. Here are links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/03/19/rdp-tuesday-tassel/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/03/19/fowc-with-fandango-blot/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/03/19/focus/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/03/19/your-daily-word-prompt-besmirch-march-19-2019/

Our Better, Nature

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Our Better, Nature

We hoard her in our gardens where we force her into plots,
confine her in our vases, crowd her into pots.
Ambitious men plan towers—trade grass and trees for gold.
They overlook one simple fact. We’re all in nature’s hold.
Man’s illustrious plots and schemes always come to naught,
for the power of nature can’t be sold or bought.

I found it in the city, extending from the curb—
a simple little chain of green, a subtle rus-in-urbe.
Where men would install order, nature overrules.
Those trying to best nature are always proven fools.
For eons, we have buried her, time and time again.
Yet still she prods up from her grave. Nature will always win.

 

The prompt words today are order, hoard, illustrious and rus-in-urbe.
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/03/16/rdp-saturday-rus-in-urbe/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/03/16/fowc-with-fandango-order/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/03/16/your-daily-word-prompt-hoard-march-16-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/03/16/illustrious/

America is Frozen

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America is Frozen

America is frozen—held fast in winter’s maw,
her government held prisoner under a greedy claw.
For any children but her own, her arms grown arch and cold.
No room for diversity. No room for her to hold 
any but the richest, the whitest and the chosen.
No room left in liberty for any but the frozen.
“Give me your tired and your poor” relegated to the past
by the chilling Nordic air that holds us in its blast.

The thaw that brings the blush of spring—the budding of the flower
is held for ransom by the few who have usurped our power.
Our ship of state held fast by ice, its sails still bravely strain
to crack the ice and open up to justice once again.
If they only had the power to billow they might start
to bring us back to sanity and thaw each frozen heart.
The poor would share the power that only the rich can buy
and have their proper portion of the great American pie.

Prompt words today were thaw, power, sail and justice. Here are the links:

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/03/14/rdp-thursday-thaw/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/03/14/fowc-with-fandango-power/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/03/14/your-daily-word-prompt-sail-march-14-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/03/14/justice/

Buried Treasure

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Buried Treasure

Though my diurnal actions may be slower now and measured,
imagination’s richer—its journeys fully treasured.
I feel the whole world opening. I roam it at my will,
unhampered by long distances—undaunted by each hill.

I explore new continents, revisit former haunts.
In nocturnal wanderings, I enjoy surreal jaunts
joined by friends departed, unhampered by my years.
I do those things undone before, conquering all my fears.

Daily, I relate to friends by voice or screen or paper,
confessing past  adventures, admitting every caper.
Laugh over pains and  learn from misdeeds that I may have done—
each ill-advised decision transmogrified to fun.

Life in the doing’s richer when we have vigor for it,
and when our energy runs out, we still can re-adore it.
Our memory is a treasure box with contents vast and rare,
made richer by each telling. Increasing as we share.

 

Memory boxes and photos by jdb

Prompt words today are diurnal, opening, action and treasure.
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/03/12/rdp-tuesday-diurnal/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/03/12/fowc-with-fandango-opening/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/03/12/your-daily-word-prompt-treasure-march-12-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/03/12/action/

Inscribing an Epitaph for the King of Music

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Inscribing an Epitaph for the King of Music

When it came to lyrics, his wit was finely tined. 
His words were sharp and pointed. He had a rapier mind.
When he was at his zenith, his music was sublime.
Perfect in its sentiment, exquisite in its rhyme.
His tunes were like a river moving words along.
All the world’s fine miracles occurred in every song.
Each run an apparition that faded out of sight
just as the next melodic ghost appeared to take its bite.

His music effervescent, then thundering, then gory,
devoured all our senses, flooding us with its glory.
He raced us through emotion as though running out of time.
Each opus was a mountain, exhausting in the climb.
Then when we reached its zenith, he released us from its hold
with one brief caesura that freed us from the fold
to barrel down the mountain in one euphoric sweep—
sliding from the summit down to the deepest deep.

They scribed a single word in stone over his burial mound
to describe this musician who married words and sound 
to take us all on journeys magical and euphoric,
and yet the label “Maestro,” just seems too categoric
to conjure up this genius who could transport us all
to every corner of ourselves within that massive hall.
He deserves a finer word. A more distinctive label,
but words fail me as I choose what I’d inscribe if I were able.

Prompt words today are tune, occur, apparition and zenith. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/03/10/rdp-sunday-tune/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/03/10/fowc-with-fandango-occur/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/03/10/your-daily-word-prompt-apparition-march-10-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/03/10/zenith-2/