Fin de Semana: NaPoWriMo 2022, #23

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Fin de Semana

The streets are filled
with ice cream and cerveza
and the wildly patterned legs
of senoritas.
It is a day
of sunlight and red flowers
and fuchsia flowers and blue.

A slight wind
 strums the swaying branches
of the palms,
joins other village sounds
to compete with the passing hum
of  traffic streaming
from the city to our shores,

 seeking the gentle lap of water against willow,
hypnotic bobbing of the pelicans
between the undulating liria––
a lazy day away
from urban life.

For NaPoWriMo

One Perfect Hibiscus: FOTD Apr 23, 2022

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This is today’s beauty.

For Cee’s FOTD

A Chorus Line: Supervising Mom’s Lunch

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2022

Click on photos to enlarge. As you can see, I had their rapt attention.

Spring Foliage: FOTD Apr 22, 2022

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Spring Foliage in Revolution Park: Jacaranda, Royal Poinciana and Bougainvillea.

For Cee’s FOTD

The Workaholic Calls in Sick

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The Workaholic Calls in Sick

I feel so sorry for myself that in my pain I wallow.
I cannot eat a single thing. It hurts too much to swallow.
I don’t respond to illness well. My vision’s so distorted
that all my work plans for the day will have to be aborted.

However much I writhe in pain, I cannot ease my torment.
I’m waiting for my voicelessness to ease up and go dormant
so I can resume life again in all my past perfection,
putting well behind me my ideal health’s defection.

 

Prompt words for today are voiceless, distorted, swallow, however and illness. Image by Anh Nguyen on Unsplash.

Death Slips in Like a Slippery Eel: NaPoWriMo 2022, Day 22

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Death Slips in Like a Slippery Eel

We sail  life on an even keel,
solving every small ordeal
until one day, it turns surreal.
Death slides in like a slippery eel,
our place in nature to firmly seal,
our invulnerability to steal.

In youth, our lives are stainless steel.
All pain is solved, our wounds all heal.
It’s true these thoughts were never real,
but still, we feel what we must feel.
Then death slips in—that slippery eel.
No second chances does it deal.

A carnival barker with his spiel,
death lures us with unfettered zeal,
to spin us on the ferris wheel—
all our accomplishments to peel
and all our woe and all our weal
to cast from us, reel after reel.

In a fate that nothing can repeal,
it’s our turn to be nature’s meal.
The surreal now becomes the real.
Joining the universe’s wheel,
the organs keen, the bells all peal
as death slides in—a slippery eel.

 

For NaPoWriMo 2022, Day 22 we are to write a poem that features repetition. Since that is a repeat of a NaPoWriMo prompt from 2017, I thought it was fair game for me to do a rewrite of my poem written to that prompt. Here it is, with changes. The one rhyme used throughout the poem is the first use of repetition, the slippery eel line in each stanza is the second.

Ruins

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Mexico, Pompeii, Missouri and Wyoming. Can you tell which is which?

For Mind Over Misery Photo Challenge 410
See other responses to this prompt HERE

Reminiscence: NaPoWriMo 2022, Day 21

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Reminiscence

Those people we let loose of to tumbleweed away
will blow into our minds again on some future day.
Innocence and wonder at what the day will bring
vanished in the half-way mist of remembering.

The flash of priceless treasures  once glimpsed in a museum.
a cryptic smile, a rounded hip, that slice of carpe diem
as you hastened after your next adventurous thing
that would round your day out way back in your life’s spring.

That glamorous job hobnobbing with the hoi polloi,
left without a qualm when you met that perfect boy.
How could you have known back then how often you’d remember
all these flashing moments now faded down to ember

once you ‘d lived your life out and finally reached December?

Very strange prompt from NaPoWriMo today. Let’s see how this one goes:  This prompt asks you to write a poem in which you first recall someone you used to know closely but are no longer in touch with, then a job you used to have but no longer do, and then a piece of art that you saw once and that has stuck with you over time. Finally, close the poem with an unanswerable question.

Ever After

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Ever After

A pair of decent buttocks could bring him to a halt.
Distorted or unusual to him was not a fault.
High or low or sagging part way to the floor,
he cared not how big they were. He cared not what they wore.
Clad in silk or denim, chambray or flour sacks,
he simply loved what bodies carried on their backs.
You would find him tongue-tied if you met him on your way,
but as he turned to watch you as you walked away,
he could pen a sonnet on what went through his mind
as he reconnoitered you purely from behind.

Prompt words today are unusual, halt, buttocks, distorted, decent.

Royal Poinciana Blooms: FOTD Apr 6, 2022

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Although my Royal Poinciana trees have not even grown buds yet, the ones in Guadalajara were in full bloom. This huge fully-packed tree was in Revolution Park near our hotel.

For Cee’s FOTD