Tag Archives: Daily Post

Broken Concentration

 

Broken Concentration

The words packed tight within my mind
seek the empty page.
They fly like hummingbirds and hawks
escaping from their cage.
But when all my empty places
I seek to fill again,
too many words rush in at once,
creating such a din
that nothing can be made of them.
I cannot restore order
in these alien syllables
that flood across my border.

I did not think these previous lines.
They just crept up on me.
I place words here upon the page
and thereby set them free.
They have no place within my head
where I had plans to write
a solitary
 love poem.
Instead, they spar and fight,
one trying to beat the others
to the front line of my mind.
Love words elbowing their way,
lined up in back of “pined.”

So “heartsick” steps on “passion’s” toes.
“Adore” runs out of steam
trying to reclaim the place
where words like it must dream.
I no longer know the purpose
that I set out upon
I fear the mood is broken,
my concentration gone.
The thought that any love poem
will come is now absurd.
Minutes ago I was in love,
but now I have been cured!!

 

For the WordPress prompt word broken.

Tomorrow will be the last day for the WordPress Daily prompt.  Please comment HERE if you want to try to help me to change their decision.  Whether you write for the daily prompt or just enjoy reading those who do, please help us try to stop this change for the worse. This is an extensive rewrite of a poem written over three years ago under a different name.

Broken-hearted that after tomorrow, there will be no daily WordPress prompt!

Please Join Me in Asking WordPress Not to Abolish the Daily Prompt!!

I am starting a forum campaign to prevail upon WordPress not to drop the Daily Prompt.  Please comment HERE to agree with me and perhaps help effect a reversal of their decision.

Not only has it been an invaluable aid to me in jump-starting me in my writing each day, but it was also a way to find new bloggers to add to my favorites list. Without it, I will once again just fall back on my favorites list without much of a way of meeting new bloggers.

Please comment both on the forum and in comments below.

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/broken/

Please Join Me in Asking WordPress Not to Abolish the Daily Prompt!!

I am starting a forum campaign to prevail upon WordPress not to drop the Daily Prompt.  Please comment HERE to agree with me and perhaps help effect a reversal of their decision.

Not only has it been an invaluable aid to me in jump-starting me in my writing each day, but it was also a way to find new bloggers to add to my favorites list. Without it, I will once again just fall back on my favorites list without much of a way of meeting new bloggers.

Please comment both on the forum and in comments below.

Thanks!!!

Juxtaposition

Click on any photo to enlarge all.

Juxtaposition

Artistic types must juxtapose
these to these and those to those
just for the contrast, I suppose.
Somehow, each artist simply knows
to vary hues that they impose
upon the subjects that they chose
to depict first in line and pose.

Poets may likewise words oppose,
and so may writers given to prose.
Composers also juxtapose
in sonatas or do si dos
whatever music sweetly flows
from saxophone, fiddle or Bose.

Shoulder to shoulder, nose to nose
such contrasts form the undertows
that draw attention, lift our lows
stir lethargy and banish woes.

As all these contrasts come to blows,
so our imagination grows.
Time enough to nap and doze
when life draws nearer to its close.
For now, stay open  to the shows
of all who seek to juxtapose.

 

The prompt today is juxtapose.

After the Ceremony

After marriage, even after the mundane invades our life, hopefully, some of the magic remains.

After the Ceremony

Oh my dear,
caught in this star-studded cowboy boot world,
I love you more than an Oreo cookie,
more than bubble gum
or a dill pickle.
You are a full gas tank and my shoelaces.
You are both what keeps me going
and what I am reaching out for—
my goal and trophy rolled into one.
You are my ironing board and my blender—
what churns me up and straightens me out.
Everything in the world is caught up in you.

It is flowering, our ordinary world.
Zephyrus peanut butter
and turgid corned beef hash
are surrounded by rosebuds,
soaring heavenward in sartorial bliss.
The sewing machine is holy
and our Dodge truck dreamlike.
The fanciful and practical
are shuffled in our dream world
like cards at a poker table.
A washcloth and a comb soar heavenward.
Birdsong becomes a phonograph needle,
caught in its groove.
Verdant is the garden hose–
pulsating with a new vibrancy.

If I am a tax form, you are my pencil.
I am diaphanous in my kitchen apron,
a fairy in blue jeans.
I could sing an ode to your toothbrush.
If I took a measuring stick to our love,
the world’s breath would be bated,
waiting for the result.
Birdsong would issue from the teakettle
to chorus the announcement.
For oh, my love, our passion is a hammer.
A scythe that slices through the problems of the world:
the shopping lists and the crabgrass.

Love vaporizes our petty problems––
the broken dishwasher
and the broken fingernail––
I am thy bride, thy fairy princess.
Your pencil sharpener.
The trimmer of your wick,
the cooker of your sausage.

My dear, I am turgid in thy love.
You are what wrenches my heart
and nails shut the door
of every misgiving I might have had.
You are mustard to my sauerkraut,
pastrami to my rye.
Love in a Ziplock bag might seem less fairylike,
blander than white bread
and more Sunday School than magical;
but, you are my big zucchini,
my Dove bar and my Orange Crush,
and I am forever thy camellia and thy rose.

Remember me under lindens,
my footsteps filled with magnolia petals
and my cook pot full of stardust.
Heaven resides in our walkup flat, my dear,
and I pulsate every day
with the memory of that honeymoon
which was only our penultimate dream—
leading up to the chock-a-block,
stuffed turkey with all the trimmings,
overflowing Christmas stocking,
burst balloon filled with confetti,
blissful rest of that conjoined life
that with every morning alarm clock
will spill over us again
like a freshly split piñata.

This is a rewrite of a poem first written five years ago. The prompt word today was ceremony.

Fame

Fame

I don’t want to be Gwyneth, Julia or Pink,
Madonna, Shakira or Cher.
Their kind of renown is simply too much.
Much more than this woman could bear.

Though there’s no famous person that I’d rather be,
it’s not that I wouldn’t like fame.
It’s just that I want to be known for myself
and not by another one’s name.

I want to be known for my words and my art,
but not by my form or my face.
So I can dine out and walk down the street
without all the bother and chase.

I want to go out for a coffee or tea
and see someone reading my book.
And without her knowing, to study her face,
interpreting how she may look

as she reads every page, be it smile or tear,
I’d be known by my writing alone.
Like watching your child go out in the world
to establish a life of its own.

I want to stand hiddenunknown by the world,
to observe someone viewing my art.
To see if what registers there on his face
is what I’ve revealed of my heart.

Unnoticed, unphotographed and unpursued,
I could walk at my usual pace.
I’d get to the finish in plenty of time
without ever joining the race.

I wrote this poem four years ago, but it is perfect for today’s prompt word of  famous.

Doppelganger Disclaimer

 

“Double Identity” Retablo by Judy Dykstra-Brown. Click on any photo to enlarge all.

Doppelganger Disclaimer

I do not have a doppelganger. There’s no evil twin
wandering around within the world I’m in.
So any malfeasance—any scrape or sin
that has occurred in any place where I might have been
please attribute just to me. I will take all the blame.
Blaming a doppelganger would be to share my fame.
Sometimes I am a stinker, but at other times most jolly.
I’m responsible for all of me—both bravery and folly.
As a denizen of this fair world, until I pull up stakes,
I think it’s only fair that I claim my own mistakes!

 

The prompt word today is doppelganger.