Category Archives: Uncategorized

Everything

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Everything

After all the rushing, the extremes and the thrills,
After all the ups and downs, declivities and hills,
I’ve shot enough wild rivers, forded my last rill.
I do not mind the still life, that cup that I must fill.

Ghosts need not be ghouls, I’ve found, except at Halloween.
In dreams and poems they visit me, recalling where I’ve been.
Temporary comfort are what they provide at best,
promoting hopeful hunches that death is just a rest.

Does another life exist somewhere beyond the mound,
and will its joys exceed the present comfort that I’ve found?
No past love gives an answer, so I wrap my queries up
and abandon pen and daydreams to stir my brimming cup.

 

Prompt words today are still, extreme, ghoul, declivity and brief.

I think I have finally lost it. I woke up this morning, picked up my computer from the headboard shelf in my bed, and found the beginning stanza of this poem. I worked for an hour or more completing it, posted it, then posted it to Facebook, but when I did, I found another poem entitled “At 74,” that had the same illustration and opening line and several comments and likes, but when I tried to open it, it said it was no longer available!  It was not in Trash or Drafts on my blog, but people had commented and “Liked” it, so it must have been published. I am totally clueless as to what happened. A case of the entire world having deja vu? The only thing I can think of is that an old version of “At 74” was on my second computer and when I picked it up and finished it, it erased the old version which had been posted on my other computer. And the old version vanished forever. I have no idea what it was, but to all of you that liked and commented on it, thanks for reading. Does anyone remember how it differed from this version, other than by name? Can senility be far behind?

So, the mystery continues.In yesterday’s drafts,  Forgottenman found the previously published poem with the same beginning stanza but a different second stanza!  I rust republished it, but it went back to a yesterday posting.  If you want to see it, HERE it is. To avoid confusion, I changed the photo, which was the same as this one. Ha. How  futile is that–trying to avoid confusion at this late date? It must be my fault but I can’t for the life of me figure out how this happened.

Past Squares, Oct 1, 2021

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For Becky of Winchester’s Pastsquares Challenge we are to pick a square photo we’ve published in one of her past challenges. Above are two of mine. I couldn’t decide which to use and their colors, if not their subjects, match so well!

At 74

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At 74

After all the rushing, the extremes and the thrills,
After all the ups and downs, declivities and hills,
I’ve shot enough wild rivers, forded my last rill.
I do not mind the still life, that cup that I must fill.

Though my pace has slackened, still I do not stop
filling up my cup until it’s reached the top.
If it then spills over, what more can I ask?
Dealing with the overflow will be a welcome task.

 

Prompt words today are still, extreme, declivity and brief.

This poem, although it was posted and received some comments, suddenly disappeared overnight and when I woke up this morning, I found it in drafts and completed it, reposting it under a different name. Then, just tonight, Forgottenman found this original version in drafts, where, even though I couldn’t find it there this morning,  it had somehow been mysteriously relocated. So here it is again, with the same opening lines as the second version. Weird, weird. If you want to see the second version of this poem, rewritten this morning and renamed “Everything,” go HERE.

Chi Baba Blues

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Here is the earliest picture I have of me, probably at about 10 months.

 

The prompt from dVerse poets today was to write a poem incorporating the lyrics of a song that was popular on the day you were born. Well, although it isn’t a poem, here is a link to a post I wrote six years ago about the most popular song on the charts on July 3, 1947, the day I was born:

https://judydykstrabrown.com/2015/09/02/las-mananitas-and-other-less-lovely-bastardizations-of-a foreign-language/

And, to meet the qualifications of the prompt, here is a poem hastily pounded out today in response:

Chi Baba Blues

It must have been a silly year, the year that I was born,
with music even newborn babies might be driven to scorn.
The fact it was a lullaby, alas, could not atone
for that ugly music spewed out by the gramophone.
“Chi baba, chi baba chihuahua” were hardly words that lulled
and along with all the other lyrics, needed to be culled.
And though I have much gratitude that my mom chose to bear me,
when it comes to this lullaby, I’m glad she chose to spare me:

The #1 song in the U.S. on the day I was born was “Chi-Baba, Chi-Baba Chihuahua (My Bambino Go to Sleep) ” by Perry Como.  Although I would advise against it, you can hear it HERE. But after that, please go to the link at the beginning of this post and click on the link to see my rave about its trivialization of and confusion between the Spanish and Italian languages and to hear one of the most beautiful serenades in the Spanish language, imho.

My mom and me. 

 

Here is the link to the dVerse prompt: https://dversepoets.com/

Round and Round

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I got a bit carried away.

For CFFC: Circles and Wheels

Matchless

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Matchless

I fear I am a novice at getting romance right,
for every run I take at love ends up in my flight.
My first love was too cheerful. He was constantly jocund.
His physique was rolly-polly, and in time he grew rotund.

Once I escaped his clutches, I was happier by far,
but my next love was bittersweet, as seconds often are,
for I had found an athlete, less clownish  and much fitter,
but I could not keep up with him, so once more love turned bitter.

After that I tried a lawyer, a butcher, then a teacher,
a roust-about, a cowboy, a restaurateur, a preacher.
But nothing ever seemed to work, for those I found disarming
were the ones that always seemed to find me less than charming.

Somehow I never quite matched up when it came to matching.
Every time I fell in love, it didn’t end up catching.
So all-in-all, much as I love a fond embrace and kiss,
I think that when it comes to love, I’ll just give it a miss.


Fiction, folks…no consolations necessary. Prompt words today are escape, novice, bittersweet, jocund and bitter. 

Thunbergia and Jade Plant: FOTD Sept 27, 2021

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This thunbergia grandiflora flower had detached from its vine above and fallen down to nest in the jade plant.  Photo opportunity!

For Cee’s FOTD

Wide Open

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Open Wings
Open for Business
Open Lens
Open Wings
Open-hearted
2003
Open Spaces
Open Air
Open-Handed
Open Weave
\
Warbling
Open Arms
Open Wings
Open Mouth
Gate Opening
Open Eye
Open Petals
Open Wall
Open Handed
Opening
Open Arms
Open-Mouthed

For the One Word Challenge: Open

“That” Friend Sept 26, 2021

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“That” Friend

My friend is amenable, but she is clueless.
If memories were sticky notes, hers would be glueless.
It seems like her calendar’s up for debate,
and if she shows up, she is, chronically late.

She’s always slow to get the ball rolling
for our monthly date for dinner and bowling.
Her memory’s airy. It blows where it blows.
Her socks are unmatched. There are tags on her clothes.

Her hair is disheveled, and It’s often the case
that traces of night cream are left on her face.
In short, she’s a space case. Her life’s in arrears.
If she were a car, she’d be missing some gears.

We gave up long ago in trying to change her.
We can’t straighten her out or fix or arrange her.
Over the years we’ve become less perplexible
figuring she’s here to keep us more flexible.

 

Prompts for the day are amenable, late, clueless,  airy and bowl. Photo for illustrative purposes only. The friends in this picture are anything but clueless. Not necessarily so for the person in the foreground, however!  ;o)

Aloe Bloom: FOTD, Sept 26, 2021

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These tall blooms are a hummingbird magnet. 

For Cee’s FOTD