Inevitable
What folly that we thought our “we”
was something that would always be.
That lot we thought that we had cast
though once it was, was not to last,
for life is fated from the start,
conjoined hearts to rip apart.
Divorce or death, when it is done,
reduces two joined hearts to one.
For dVerse Poets Pub: “We” Couplets
To see other “We” poems go HERE.
How to Mend a Broken Heart
Pop a really big bowl of popcorn.
Don’t think of calories.
Just ignore the old maids in the bottom––
this is not a fortune-telling experience.
Lots of butter.
Locate chocolate.
If none is to be found,
there is likely a 7-11 within driving distance
no matter where you happen to be.
Get the biggest bar.
A bite of popcorn, then a bite of chocolate.
Locate an old Ma and Pa Kettle movie somewhere online and watch it.
Ma Kettle is you in ten years if your love affair had worked out.
Pa Kettle is who your lover would have turned into.
Find an old Sophia Loren movie online and watch it.
Sophia Loren is who you are now.
Don’t worry about the popcorn.
Sophia Loren wouldn’t.
Imagine Paul Newman eating popcorn
off your bare back.
Flip over.
Flash on making love to Pa Kettle.
Quickly flash back to Paul Newman
now eating popcorn off your bare shoulder blade.
Imagine your ex in a movie theater
watching Paul Newman make love to you
up there on the big screen.
Don’t worry about who your ex is with.
Well, maybe just one little peek.
Your ex is with Ma Kettle!
(If you don’t know who Ma and Pa Kettle are, go HERE.)
The prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “How?”
Zipper
This bandage wound around my heart
seals the wound, but not the smart.
Sharp words pierce faster than a knife
while kinder words can dull the strife.
Spoken words can’t be reined in
or called back from where they’ve been.
So zip
your lip!!!!
For dVerse Poets prompt: Wound
Photo from Unsplash, used with permission.
Dropped
The night is a broken cup,
its last sip spilled
from a shattered edge.
My thirst unslaked,
I dream
dry dreams
that go unquenched
by morning’s
gentle rains.
The dVerse Poets prompt was to write a poem that was an extended metaphor. Brief poem? Brief metaphor.
Broken Hearted
My heart’s not fully functioning. Its working parts are rusted.
With all life’s empty promises it has become encrusted.
Friends tell me it’s been out-of-use and just needs to be dusted,
but so far no one’s come along that I feel can be trusted.
The truth is, it has been too long since I have truly lusted,
and so although they say that my heart’s just unadjusted,
I’m pretty sure the truth of it is that it must be busted.
Fiction, folks. Really. The prompt word today was encrusted.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 