Quartets of Memory
To what extent
do you lament
losing the blush
of teenage crush?
Tease and chuckle,
tight-gripped knuckle,
that challenge of
teenage love—
to cultivate
a future mate—
dawdling where
a certain stare
might meet with yours.
These sweet amors
left in the past,
nonetheless last.
Some afternoons
listening to tunes
of a past kind,
they come to mind.
Prompt words today are knuckle, challenge, lament, cultivate, dawdle. Image by Eric Krull on Unsplash.
For Cee’s FOTD
Breakfast Sandwich
My puppies heed no boundaries. They flop down where they will.
Coco crowds me, head on shoulder, in my bed until
I need my arm for writing and to gratify my need,
I nudge her very gently, but still, she does not heed
the necessity for space between us on the bed,
so promptly she moves closer to lie on my arm instead.
She appreciates its flavor as she licks it fondly, then,
extends her pastel tongue to lick it all again.
Then Zoe comes to join us from her place down by my hip,
and expresses her love likewise with a little lip.
Then her tongue extends as well so I am doubly tasted.
massaged with love’s caresses until I’m thoroughly basted.
At length, both fall asleep again, their energy depleted,
and our morning’s sandwich is finally completed.
I wedge myself out gently so our sandwiching is done,
extracting my meat from between its canine bun.
Prompt words for today are boundary, gratify, flavor, likewise, pastel and promptly. It is almost impossible to get photos with one’s arms pinned to the side but this was as close as I could get.
Walking Wounded
I have a giant blister growing on my foot,
and I’ve had a breakthrough about what’s at its root.
Its cause is not a secret, no mystery at all.
The truth is that I buy my shoes at least a size too small.
Blame it on my vanity that’s making me a gimp.
My need to wear a daintier size is why I have a limp.
Today’s prompt words are breakthrough, giant, blister, root.
Just Be You
When I look into your eyes,
your potential to improvise
and mold yourself to any guise
tells me that your talent lies
in the fine art of disguise.
You could give a master session
in the changes of expression
to obscure extreme depression,
thereby forestalling confession
of your doom and gloom obsession.
Why not just be who you are?
Reality can get you far.
When you feel you’re under par,
just show the truth and raise the bar,
and of your life, become the star.
MVB’s prompt today is improvise. Since it is the only one posted so far, I’m going to go ahead and dedicate my entire poem to this one word.
Click on photos to enlarge.
Day of the Dead
It is that spooky time of year when dead folk walk about.
They lasso wild horses to ride, without a doubt.
They leave their earthy prisons and slake their appetites
with dead bread and with other toothsome proffered bites.
Their crimson eyes shine brightly this one night of the year,
as they slake their year-long thirsts for mescal or for beer.
Each year their thoughtful mortals replenish altars nightly,
putting out their favorite brews and foods for them, politely.
They fill town squares with altars that honor friends departed,
revealing that their memories have remained open-hearted.
Candles light their way for them and marigolds form highways
that mark their paths toward friendly altars from their ghostly byways.
Dia de los Muertos is that night that spirits roam,
renewing those past pathways that have led their footsteps home.
If you doubt their coming, view their pathways in the morning
to see how they have visited you, silent, without warning.
Some say it is the field mice that have nibbled on the bread,
but those of faith know that it was their beloved ones instead!
Prompt words today are replenish, prison, crimson, spooky, and politely.
For Cee’s FOTD. Photo of Leah’s portion of the altar. The altar isn’t quite finished. The area in the middle of the arch needs to be completed by Stephanie’s fine hand. My niece Stephanie, nephew Ryan and Ryan’s sweetie Leah are visiting. I’ll post photos later.
