Creative Process
With 4/5ths of my life now in the past,
I am trying to pen some thoughts that will last.
I tackle the prompt words and as they pop by,
off of the screen and into my eye,
they proceed past the junction of optic nerve and brain,
link couplings and thereby become a word train.
As they leave my brain and into my fingers,
almost in seconds, not one of them lingers.
They rush past my fingers and onto the screen
where they’re determined to finally be seen.
Was I their author? Don’t be absurd.
This poem was merely writ by the word!!!
Prompts today are tackle, high, junction, past, (Two fewer than usual, as two of the prompts had not been posted by the time I started writing this.) Photo by Clarissa Watson on Unsplash
We planted lots of Creeping Charlie in the front garden for ground cover. I didn’t realize that they blossomed, so was surprised to see these this morning.
For Cee’s FOTD
Re-Generation
Once I realized culture owned me, still I had no will to change,
for alternate modes of living are so hard to arrange.
Yet I set out to mold me to be different from the crowd
and I have done so well at it that I admit I’m proud.
First I got a nose ring and then I got tattooed.
I push my way up to the front where formerly I queued.
Whereas once I used the phrase that “You’re so very very,”
I finally invested in the Urban Dictionary.
So while I was once “with it,” now finally I’m so “dope,”
that this former Boomer will soon be Gen Z, I hope.
I regret all those years when I pressed front seams in my jeans,
but now that I have shredded them, I feel I’m in my teens.
Now that I’m a “meme”ing master and Snap Chat is a snap,
I’m expert in my dissing and I’ve reversed my cap.
Now that I have changed so much, I feel I’m at my best
in becoming different exactly like the rest!!
For the Sunday Whirl 592 the prompt words are: culture realized owned first proud change me here dictionary
Ending
You offer reassurances and try to take my hand
as we journey homeward, shuffling through the sand.
Your words imply condolence, but they are not sincere.
Your thoughts I know are far away, although you hover near.
I consign our love to memory, safe and tightly curled,
for I know your next love waits for you out there in the world.
I no longer seek your favor and would rather you depart.
I do not crave your presence when I do not have your heart.
Prompt words today are: sand, shuffle, condolences, imply, favor.
Please Pass the Potatoes
I’m not feeling spiritual and grace goes on too long.
It’s been at least ten minutes since I heard the dinner gong.
Six hours have now passed away since I imbibed in lunch.
Six hours since I had a chance to bite and chew and munch.
If they have fresh rolls, I swear that I could use a dozen.
That’s eleven just for me and one more for my cousin.
I trust that you won’t think this poem implies that I’m a glutton.
I don’t eat fish or mushrooms, rabbit, lamb or mutton.
So it isn’t true that I eat everything I see.
I just partake in food that I know agrees with me.
Cupcakes yes. Caviar no. Tripe I’ll give a miss.
Hearts and brains and liver are dishes that I diss.
I love hot dogs and hamburgers and gravy on potatoes,
but spinach does not thrill me. Nor do turnips nor tomatoes.
But if pot pies are what they’re serving now that grace is finally through,
I admit that I could do away with one or two.
Prompts today are trust, lunch, spiritual, imply, dozen,
For Cee’s FOTD
Does anyone know what this unusual flower is? Photogarphed in Ajijic, Jalisco Mexico.
Here’s a photo stolen from the internet of this same flower at a later stage: for Janet:
For Cee’s FOTD
I got home from being gone all day (first at the dentist for a dental implant and then ferrying houseguests around) to find this message from Forgottenman: You must be up to yer ears in company, so here’s something to save a bit of time – prompts with links for today.
Here is my message back to him: You are such a sweetie. Finally got home at 7:33 tonight and this is such a nice gift not to have to look up and link prompts. I owe you six.
Prompts for today are Uncertain, Pessimist, Entrance, Huddle, Paraphernalia and Risk. Image by Glenn Carstens Peters on Unsplash.
“To Do” Blues
With too many deadlines, appointments and tasks,
I’m uncertain that I can do all that life asks.
I admit I’m a pessimist when it comes to
whether I’ll do all I’m scheduled to do.
There’s paraphernalia that needs to be sorted,
obligations to fill and guests to be courted.
Huddled in bed with Coco and Morrie,
I try to come up with my usual story.
They huddle around me and lick at the keys,
taking the risk that they will displease.
Then Zoe makes an entrance and plops on my lap,
curls in a circle and commences to nap.
The other two spread out as close as they can,
thereby complicating my original plan
to complete all my blogs and then finish my Wordle,
Word Huddle and Blossom and finally my Quordle.
This may happen still for this poem is finished
and thus my “To Do” list is now diminished.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 