Tag Archives: Daily Post

Private Lives


Private Lives

Private lives and private dreams
fill our world and burst its seams.
Many wants and many wishes
like an ocean full of fishes
For one to live, one more must go
to maintain the status quo.
Each fish feeding on another:
mother, sister, uncle, brother
all competing  for their lives
One fails while another thrives.
Thus it goes with private lives.

The prompt today was “privacy.”

Southern Exposure

dsc07117Southern Exposure

Although my north end’s fully cloaked,
when rain clouds come,  my south gets soaked.
I guess the fault is really mine.
The raincoat that I bought, size nine,
that I insisted would fit fine,
combined with excess when I dine
means that though it swathes my seat,
the buttons in the front don’t meet
the holes they’re meant to go into
no matter what my fingers do.
That’s why my front side’s sorta soggy
when the weather ends up foggy.
If you approach me from the back,
I swear, you won’t see any lack.
You’ll only see my dripping clothes
If we meet up nose-to-nose
I just can’t get myself together
to protect myself in stormy weather.

The prompt word today is “exposure.”

Overworked or Labor Shirked?



Overworked or Labor Shirked?

It’s hard for me to find the middle
between hard labor and the fiddle.
Work? I either overdo it
or endeavor to eschew it.
Work all day and then all night,
being very erudite—
putting words down on the page,
imprisoned in my muse’s cage.

Perhaps I fear my distant past
when good work habits didn’t last
and days were spent in dreaming or
novels read behind closed door—
midnight radio a chance
for fantasies to spin romance.
Whole days stretched as though to catch
an errant dream of true love’s match.

I feared such days were sloth, and yet
perhaps they were just roads to get
to the place where I would tell
the stories that I knew so well
because I’d lived them first in dreams
or days just bursting at the seams
with doing nothing but living life—
its pleasures, problems, romance, strife.

First the doing at my leisure,
then the writing, and the seizure
of all the details of the past
that, once down on paper, are made to last.
Overworked or over-lived,
life first collected, then finely sieved.
Panned like gold to find the treasure—
leisure and work in even measure.

Overworked” is the prompt word today.

Original Style



Original Style

Is your aesthetic pop or funk?
Waterford crystal or Goodwill junk?
Whatever may be your aesthetic,
copying I find pathetic.
Find your style and follow it.
Originality and wit
will pull you through where money won’t.
Express yourself, but copy? Don’t!!!!
Expressing yourself is aesthetic.
Following trends mere anaesthetic.


The prompt word today is aesthetic.




His smile an invitation I could plainly see,
I very promptly answered his implied R.S.V.P.
But later on I wished that I had just let it be,
for that smile was for another girl the minute he had me!

An open invitation is his modus operandi.
Every social gathering provides him more eye candy.
Once seen, a tiny little lick is what he seems to savor.
He likes it when each taste he takes presents a different flavor.

Every toothsome girl he sees stirs his appetite,
and even though his smile suggests he’d like a little bite,
no matter what the tasty dish is that you choose to serve,
you’ll never be a main course, but merely an hors d’oeuvre.

The prompt today was “invitation.”


Marathon Confusion


Marathon Confusion

There stands my wimpy neighbor John
next to that tall bronzed Amazon.
He’s looking sort of pale and wan
there on the local courthouse lawn
wishing the others would be gone
so he could vanish over yon.
He’s feeling rather put-upon,
for when asked by his buddy Ron
to join this charity marathon,
he thought it was a phonathon!

Imagine his extreme reaction,
for he has not the slightest fraction
of running talent nor attraction
to any sports-like interaction.
To him, athletics are abstraction.
Since he’s much given to inaction,
mobility’s a mere distraction.
He’d commit some lane infraction,
suffer a spinal compaction,
and probably wind up in traction!

For, although his finger’s ready,
his running legs are less than steady.
He knows this charity’s a good one,
and though he wishes that he could run,
wishes do not equal training,
and he’s not into muscle straining.
Prepared today to call for them,
he’s not prepared to fall for them.
He will not join this running faction.
instead, he’s calling in his action.


The prompt today was marathon.

Exquisite Creatures


Exquisite Creatures

Another exquisite creature lies yonder on the hill—
just beyond the pampa horse, okapi and spoonbill.
All the lovely creatures we are here to see
imprisoned behind barriers, just for you and me.

Polar bear goes pacing, as does lioness.
What they might be thinking, I can only guess.
Now that they know their freedom mainly by its edges,
one dreams of the tundra, the other icy ledges.

All day as they view us, in their eyes are gleams
revealing  what they’re thinking—a pathway to their dreams.
Stalking their next meal— the waiting and the hush,
before the final pounce, that old familiar rush.

Ferrets with their kits and camels with their calves
are showing us their natures by quarters or by halves.
We see the way they eat and spy on how they pee,
but we’ll never see the whole of them in captivity.

Nature that is cageless has more of a savor.
Both the viewed and viewer spontaneous and braver.
With no bars between them, they’re part of the same world
as they retrieve their wildness from corners where it’s curled.

Hear a might roar, a hiss, a screech a chatter—
all exotic sounds that tell us what’s the matter.
If we are approaching, wandering too near,
they are simply telling us they don’t want us here.

Of all of the animals, they’ve heard we are the worst—
the primary reason our world’s about to burst.
Viewing all our actions, now and through the ages,
if they had their druthers, they’d put us all in cages.

The prompt word today is “exquisite.”