Tag Archives: Daily Inkling

Ashes and Dust

“After all our years have settled like dust . . .”
                                           ––okc forgottenman

Ashes and Dust

When that cruel wind
blows against memories
that have settled like dust
on our lives,

what  will remain
sealed in our crevasses
––fine furniture that we are
of a bygone age?

What remaining minutes
of a long life of years
will define us then?
A kiss? A child held in arms?
Regrets? Terrors?

In those storerooms
where people  sit
stacked in silent cubicles,
what zephyrs whisper through
to stir the embers
of their minds?

Is there music in those currents
or are they the sad
whining winds
that curl over headstones
and lament the dust that settles there?

Life builds us and wears us away.
Like the mountain,
like sand on the beach,
we are not above it all.

No matter how much power
we think we gain,
Nature is a wind that breathes
into us at birth,
then dashes us away.

I wrote this poem three years ago, drawing inspiration from a poem by okc forgottenman . Find his poem Here.

Today’s prompt from Matthew’s Daily Inkling:

It is often said that the most important thing on a gravestone is the dash between the two dates. Who in your family has the most renowned dash — the one who made the most pronounced mark on history?

The Nature of Perfection

This post I wrote about the nature of perfection four years ago is perfect for today’s prompt, so I’m rerunning it again.


Random Thoughts on the Nature of Perfection

Everything in the natural order is perfect.
If you doubt this,
look closely at any flower
or consider the workings
of any animal,
including man.

Each part of nature is so intricately bound up
in the web of it all that its perfection
is only a small part of the whole.
Man makes the mistake of overlooking this
as he pokes and prods and institutes changes
in the natural order.
What man believes is of benefit to himself
is not necessarily of benefit
to the whole cycle of interdependence,
and it may not even be of benefit to himself.



But all perfection is not to be aimed for.
There is perfect evil in the world
as well as perfect beauty
or perfect kindness.

If everything in the natural order is perfect.
In seeking to alter nature, it is man who has created imperfection.
Monsanto is the enemy of perfection.



Perfection is best observed very close by and very far away.

Here is a printable list of Monsanto owned companies: http://www.realfarmacy.com/printable-list-of-monsanto-owned-food-producers/


For the Daily Inkling Prompt: Perfection.

Silver Platter

Silver Platter

I would not have your heart, my dear, on a silver platter,
for it does not seem to hold the things that really matter.
It only holds the riches to which greedy men aspire.
It does not hold the sentiments that stir us or inspire.
Humor and humility you lack in equal measure.
I fear that life with you would be lacking in the pleasure
that is the spice of living—that gives existence savor.
Life with you would just be rich, but sadly lacking flavor.
So keep your diamonds and your yacht and stow your silver platter.
I’d rather spend my time acquiring things that really matter!

For Daily Inkling’s prompt Silver Platter.

Cellar Door



As doors go, this is a much prettier door than a cellar door.

After I wrote my poem, forgottenman apprised me of the significance of “cellar door“—that being that many consider it to be one of the most beautiful phrases in the English language, apart from its meaning.  Since I had already written my poem using “cellar door” in its literal sense, I published my first post anyway but now feel compelled to rebut it as one of the most beautiful phrases (or words) in the English language and to suggest a few more.  Propinquity is one, although I still have to look it up every time I hear it. Ascendency is another, as is onomatopoeia–but that is too obvious a choice. Parsimonious or terrarium. Gondola. Pandemonium.  Okay.  It’s getting late and let’s face it.  There are lots of beautiful words in the English language, and in my estimation, cellar door isn’t even in the running. 


The Daily Inkling Prompt today is cellar door.

Home Security

Home Security

Pop up from your basement and slam the cellar door.
You don’t want a beaver chewing through your floor.
Plug up all the chimneys so birdies won’t fly in.
The only ones you should admit are your friends and kin.

Build a wall around you. Do only what you’ve done.
Letting in those foreign thoughts surely won’t be fun.
Do not talk to strangers. Speak only to your kind.
Hearing other points of view just clutters up your mind.

What you know is all there is so do not search for more.
Board up all your windows. That’s what boards are for.
Do not let other cultures in, for the world is strange,
and if you let the world in, you may have to change.

The Daily Inkling Prompt today is cellar door.

Turkey Talk


jdb photo, 2017

Turkey Talk

All day long, I gobble gobble.
Strut my stuff over the cobble
proud and straight, without a wobble,
until a man comes with a hobble.
I’d tell the rest if I were able,
Instead, I’m laid out on your table!

Want to hear some more turkey talk? Go HERE.


Matt’s prompt today was “Turkey Talk.”

Lucid Moon


Lucid Moon

With half a life lived in the dark,
an owl’s hoot, an answering bark,
the moon across the water scattered,
ragged clouds, wispy and battered––

I float in night and solitude,
the night determining my mood.
I lie in darkness and I brood,
a nightly lucid interlude.

When sunlight comes in fits and starts,
The day brings out my other parts.
They rise in me from dawn to noon,
dispelling powers of the moon.

Thus balanced between dark and light,
each half consumes its daily bite.
I welcome each within its time
Life varied, balanced and sublime.


Matt’s prompt today was “Lucidity.”  The common meaning of “Lucid” is  “clearly expressed” or “easy to understand,” but another meaning is “bright or luminous.”  Why don’t you join in? Here is his link: https://normalhappenings.com/2018/11/21/lucidity-daily-inkling/

The D-cision

The D-cision

Sometimes I am d-lighted and sometimes I’m d-pressed.
D-cidedly eclectic in what feelings are expressed.
Yet d-rision is a concept that goes right o’er my head,
If I had wanted criticism, might as well have wed.





For “The Letter D” on Daily Inkling



I wish I’d set the truth aside.
I wish instead that I had lied
when you asked the reason why
I didn’t choose the other guy.
I wish I’d said you’d won my heart
quickly, from the very start.

But, alas, I told the truth.
Blame it on my careless youth.
It was, perhaps, naïveté
that made me answer you that way.
I said you were my second choice,
then heard that quaver in your voice.

For all those years forever after,
I’ve recalled your bitter laughter
as you said you guessed you’d wait
for the type of girl who’d rate
you first when making her selection,
and thus began your swift defection.

After all these years, I’ll tell
that I remember very well
regrets I suffered at your leaving—
all those nights of futile grieving.
Watching as you met your wife,
had your kids and built your life.

Every few years at class reunions
as we all share our fond communions,
I’ll catch your eye and feel the spark
that goes unnoticed in the dark.
And every day, until I die,
I’ll wish I’d told that little lie.

The prompt: Write about a conversation you wish you’d never had. For Matt’s Daily Inkling prompt.

Purloined Passion

Purloined Passion

It was just a small hotel, the only I could find.
I felt lucky to find it, for I was in a bind.
I hadn’t planned to stop here, but snow began to fall
and I could not seem to see the road at all.

The walls were thin as paper and the folks next door
enjoyed one hour of passion, then tried for one hour more.
Both were very vocal in making their demands
about what the other should do with lips and hands.

Those classes in dictation I had to take at school
that I never thought I’d use now became a tool
to record their dialogue, and when the night was through
I took out my computer to do what writers do.

Every cry of passion, every scream and moan
although I cannot claim it for my very own
I can still incorporate in my coming story,
using strangers’ passion for my creative glory.



The prompt was: You’ve obtained a journal — one with a multitude of confessions inside, but you don’t know who this book of secrets belongs to. What do you do with it? Feel free to alter this prompt for your own purposes.

For Daily Inkling