Birthday Debacle for Stream of Consciousness

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Birthday Debacle

The rumors are untrue. He is a scurrilous liar.
I did not eat the birthday cake. I did not start the fire.

My serenity is not a ruse. I’m innocent of error.
I swear I had no hand in your recent birthday terror.

The dog has done his utmost to brand me as the thief,
but the fool is barely lucid. Could you not see his relief

when you started to upbraid me as he chased me, headed south,
crumbs falling from his chest hair, frosting around his mouth?

Oh that I knew your language and I could tell you that,
but instead, for ever after, you’ll be blaming “that damn cat!!”

The Stream of Consciousness prompt is “Crumb.” Yes, guilty. I had AI make the photos.

Thanksgiving, for dVerse Poets

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Thanksgiving

Speeding toward the old year’s end,
we express our thanks for the past year’s treasures––
pathways that we chose to wend.
And each friend whose love endures,
we invite to share in our table’s pleasures.

 

The dVerse Poets prompt is to write a Lire poem: 7, 11, 7, 7, and 11  syllables.
Rhyme Scemer: aBabB. Suggested topic is November or Thanksgiving.

Three by Three, an Odd Conglomeration

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For Thursday Trios

Another Friday, more Fibbing!!!

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Image created by AI

For Fibbing Friday, the task at hand is: 

1. What is a running stitch? A cramp in the calf suffered during a marathon race.
2. What are the collywobbles?  A thirteen-year-old girl’s first attempts at walking in high heels.
3. What is a tea caddy? Someone who carries your golf clubs for you during the AA Golf  Tourney.
4. What is a stick of words? Writer’s block.
5. What is a flash drive? A trip to the hospital with a wife about to give birth.
6. What is a precipice? When you withraw an ice cube from a drink for a quick suck before drinking the drink.
7. What is a toupee? When you urinate a small bit while defecating. (Sorry for the indelicacy.)
8. What is a robin? Takin something that doesn’t belong to you.
9. What is linex? A sentence you have removed from a document you just wrote.
10. What is a brazier? A connoisseur of fine breasts.

Two Will Do

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DSC08414

Two Will Do

I used to like friends by the score
squeezed wall-to-wall and door-to-door.
A party didn’t even count
until the guests began to mount
up to sixty, seventy, more.
But now, I’m finding crowds a bore.

Now I find that two-by-two
is something I prefer to do.
Conversations more intimate
make it simpler to relate.
So though I used to be a grouper,
now I’m just a party-pooper.

for dVerse Poets, the prompt is Number.

The Numbers Game #100! Please Play Along! Nov 24, 2025

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Cynthy had some secrets to tell.

***Click on  Photos to Enlarge and View as Gallery.***

Welcome to “The Numbers Game #100”. Today’s number is 222. To play along, go to your photos file folder and type that number into the search bar. Then post a selection of the photos you find that include that number and post a link to your blog in my Numbers Game blog of the day. If instead of numbers, you have changed the identifiers of all your photos into words, pick a word or words to use instead, and show us a variety of photos that contain that word in the title. This prompt will repeat each Monday with a new number. If you want to play along, please put a link to your blog in comments below. Here are my contributions to the album.

 

“Cruel Nature” for The Sunday Whirl

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Cruel Nature

Wee chirping birdies trill their whistles
while down in the cruel thistles
a baby bunny in the thicket
explores a wound and starts to lick it.
Stiff sticks as sharp as horns of deer 
are what these little creatures fear.


What a great treat it would be
to be those birds up in the tree
looking out from far above––
their feathered nest a cosy glove
that fits them well, all snug and warm
up there far from pain and harm.

This sunset must be nature blushing,
and this momentary hushing
at the end of day a type of prayer
for quaking creatures hidden where
unprotected, they await 
their potential sadder fate.

 

The Sunday Whirl Wordle #733 prompt words are: thistles horns stiff treat wee chirping fit down stick blushing out moment   I made use of AI to create the images.

“Quit Before It’s Too Late” for RDP Sunday

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Quit Before It’s Too Late

Why oh why did I not quit
before the very end of it?
Douse live coals in the fire pit
or leave that fatal fire unlit?
Withhold that kick, suppress that hit?
Hold back the urge to squeeze that zit?
Leave that final plot unknit?
Alas, this is the truth of it:
one chance is all we mortals get.

For RDP Sunday  the prompt word is; Quit

If I Were Water and You Were Air for dVerse Poets

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If I Were Water & 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.

Our dVerse Poets prompt today is to consider the opening line from a poem from one of my favorite poets, Edna St Vincent Millay. The Poem is “Love Is Not All,” and the line is:
“Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink nor slumber nor a roof against the rain.” As a response, I’m sharing the title poem from my newly published book of poems.

 

“Seer” for the Weekend Writing Prompt #443

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Seer

Her statement that she’d had a vision
was met by general derision.
They went west though she’d said, “Go east,”
and thus were eaten by the beast
or, overtaken by the flood.
died soaked in water or in blood.
So, the moral of this little tale
is heed your mystics or learn to bail
or run faster than the beast
lest you become his morning’s feast.

For Weekend Writing Prompt #443, the task was to write a 66 word story or poem on the subject of “Vision.”