Tag Archives: Daily Prompt

Humble is Sweeter Served Between Two Crusts!

Humble is Sweeter Served Between Two Crusts!
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The Indigestibles

No room for mushrooms, can’t live with liver.
The thought of brains just makes me shiver.
Though I like pizza, my other law
is I don’t eat tomatoes raw!

Drinking milk’s against my wishes.
Fish is simply for the fishes.
I eat no veal or other baby,
and steak for me is simply “maybe.”

So if it’s your plan to invest
in things that I like to ingest,
I won’t make it any harder
for you to come and stock my larder.

All else you want to bring to feed me—
what edibles you wish to cede me:
Injera, curries, Thai, Chinese—
all are sure to tempt and please.

Except for one thing I just thought of
that in the past I’ve had a lot of.
There’s one more mouthful I won’t try.
I have no taste for humble pie!

(Yes, ’tis true.  You’ve seen this before.  Not enough hours in the day lately, and if the prompt fits, reblog it, I say!!!!)

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/humble-pie/

Lucky???

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Lucky Duck riding the wild turkey off to a new adventure!

Lucky???

The first person I talked to today was myself, awakening from a dream and answering aloud whatever question the person in the dream had asked.  So, I’m going to reblog a poem of my own that I wrote three months ago.  When I look back at even something I wrote last week, I barely remember it; so perhaps this will feel fresh to you as well, even if you read it before:

“You’re So Lucky!”

 Too often those described as lucky
are actually only plucky.
It’s the decisions that they make
that make their lives a piece of cake.

If they have a cushy job,
far above the teeming mob,
it is because they chose to go
to college, so they made it so.

Or if they traveled after school,
when others said they were a fool,
and tell of their adventures young,
some people tend to come unstrung

and say they wish they’d had the chance
to participate in life’s wild dance
when they had the energy,
but, you know, traveling’s not free.

The truth is that most anybody
can go to college if they study
or travel anywhere they wish.
Life’s feast is a communal dish.

There is work that you can do
from Broken Hill to Timbuktu
if you are willing to do the tasks–
whatever the situation asks.

It’s true that there are places where
life is not equitable or fair–
places where a woman’s lot
keeps her chained to stove and cot,

or places where sheer poverty
limits all that you can be.
Yet  many who bemoan their fate
simply needed to leave their gate

and take the chance to see the world–
allow their lives to be unfurled.
But, lacking courage, they remained
in the place that fate ordained

was their lot in life and so
just maintained the status quo.
Many are happy where they are
and have no wish to roam afar,

but for those who moan and fuss,
saying all the luck’s with us
who have chosen to live in paradise
(and say it more than once or twice,)

I just want to say once more,
“Here is your suitcase, there’s the door.”
Luck is more often made than won,
and is, I fear, too quickly done.

So even if you’re old and gray,
do what you want to do today.
If you feel caught in the muck,
break free from it and make your luck!

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/the-luckiest-people/

How To Keep Warm in an Avalanche

How to Keep Warm in an Avalanche

To be buried while I’m still alive? One of my greatest fears—
tons of snow muffling my screams and freezing all my tears.
If I knew rescue was coming and had sufficient air,
how would I keep from panicking in this wintry lair?

Perhaps I’d think of old loves, from sixth grade up to now.
Every silent signal. Every declared vow.
The first boy who “chose” me—the pleasure that was new
of knowing I’d been noticed by a boy or two.

Unsure and not quite ready, those crushes quickly passed
as they moved on to other girls that I considered fast.
I lived up to the adage “sweet sixteen and never been kissed”
and started to be sorry for what I knew I’d missed.

By seventeen, I found out and luckily my first
was all that I had hoped for—like slaking a long thirst.
I remember all of that initial long embrace.
His heartbeat next to mine, his fingers on my face.

The dizziness, the giddiness. I couldn’t walk quite straight.
All that was wrong with that first kiss was that it came too late.
Though there have been other lovers, I must admit to this.
Never did another compete with that first kiss.

Then I’d think back to others, up to the present day,
making mental lists and then remembering what I may.
Cowboy, lawyer, carpenter, railroad man and teacher,
but no accountant, coach or doctor, bank robber or preacher.

Bartenders, salesmen, bass players and once a Green Bay Packer
would join this list of loves, but ne’er a lazy man or slacker.
I’d think and think, remembering names without the written word.
A tourist guide, two salesmen and a computer nerd.

And after a long night of this, kept warm by memories,
they’d find me curled up in a ball, my arms around my knees,
covered in a blanket of fine-sifted powdery snow,
caught fast in dreams of those who kept me warm so long ago.

(Yes, a reprint from almost exactly a year ago, but there is stuffing to make and a turkey to bake so give me a break for Thanksgiving’s sake!)

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/teach-your-bloggers-well/

Dining In

Dining In

A dinner party with my favorite famous people invited?  Go HERE to see my answer!

 

If you want to see how others answered this question, go here:https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/seat-guru/

???:Flower of the Day Challenge11/24/15

???

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I don’t know what this lovely little green flower on its pink stem is, but if you do, I’ll love to have you tell me its name.

To see Cee and others who know the names of their flowers, go HERE.

Dear Housemates

DEAR HOUSEMATES

Literate for a Day
: Someone or something you can’t communicate with through writing (a baby, a pet, an object) can understand every single word you write today, for one day only. What do you tell them?

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Dear Morrie:
*Do not poop in the house!!!
*Do not poop in your cage!!!
*Do not poop on the terrace!!!
*Do poop in one place in the lower garden where Frida and Diego do!

*But, thanks for finally learning how to go into your cage even before I put a dog biscuit in the far end of it.
*Thanks for being so sweet and cuddly and adorable that I cannot help but forgive you for your numerous sins.

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Dear Frida:

*Do not bark incessantly every time the garage door goes up!!!
*Do not bark incessantly every time I come to feed you!!!
*But, thanks for never coming into the house without being asked.
*Thanks for never (hardly ever) getting into the organic garbage I save for Yolanda’s pig.

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Dear Diego:
*Give this constant tussling and growling with Morrie a rest!!!
*Do not head straight for the organic garbage can every time you enter the house!!!
*Never ever again eat six raw pork chops from the skillet on a night guests are coming for dinner.
*Never ever again grab an entire cooked chicken off the counter top and head for the door on a night there is a guest for dinner!!!
*Never ever again grab and consume three-quarters of a cooked loin roast off the kitchen counter top.

*But, thanks for taking Morrie down for a potty break in the garden every night at midnight.
*Thanks for training Morrie not to come into the house until asked.

To all Three Perros:

*I’m sorry for all the nights I’ve gotten home late to feed you.
*I’m sorry for all the times I’ve embarrassed you (and Larry) in front of the neighbors by yelling louder than you to “STOP BARKING!!!!”
*I’m sorry for never taking you on walks anymore (because you disjointed my arm the last time I did.)

I guess, like most disfunctional families, we will put up with each other in spite of our drawbacks of character and performance.

––Love, Mother

 

 

 

Split Identity

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San Juan Cosala

daily life  color095 (1)Bali

Split Identity

If I had to split my life between two places, it would be my home in the Raquet Club of San Juan Cosala, Jalisco, Mexico and Ubud, Bali. These are two places enough out of the mainstream to give relief from the “sameness” of towns in the states now. Both are the homes of many artists, artisans and musicians as well as the home of gentle people who value the arts.

The only drawback to Bali would be the intense heat and humidity, but perhaps I could acclimate myself.  At this stage of life, however, I am content to just alternate my time between San Juan and La Manzanilla, Mexico. I’ve already rented a house in La Manz for mid-January through mid-March in 2016, but  I’ve been thinking lately that I might try another beach town in 2017.   Any suggestions of other good beach towns in Mexico?  Or elsewhere in the world?

 

The Prompt: A Tale of Two Cities––If you could split your time between any two cities in the world, what two cities would those be? https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/a-tale-of-two-cities/

R.S.V.P.: Partying with Best Friends

R.S.V.P.: Partying with Best Friends

For four good friends, if they would come,
I’d just serve wine and Coke and rum.
Three would have to travel far
and couldn’t come by foot or car.

On the plane, while flying in,
they’d begin their  life of sin––
ordering drinks to get in training.
Meanwhile, airline food disdaining.

Only one could get here quickly.
She could be here lickety splickly.
We’d have a bit of wine and rum
so when the others finally come,

we’d be caught up and go right on
and keep this up till all are gone.
Gone my friends and gone the wine.
Time to get back into line!!!!!

On the run to get the the Feria, but you know who you are!!!   https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/rsvp/ Plan the perfect party for someone you like best.

Two Times Three

        Two Times Three

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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “An Odd Trio.” Today, you can write about whatever you what — but your post must include, in whatever role you see fit, a cat, a bowl of soup, and a beach towel.

Once again, been there, done that!!!  Go HERE to see my response.

Old Sins

                                                                           Old Sins
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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “No Apologies.” What’s the one guilty pleasure you have that’s so good, you no longer feel guilty about it?

I wrote about this prompt so long ago that probably few have read it. Here again is my poem about a plethora of  guilty pleasures!

Chocolate-covered Potato Chips and 90210

Thanks be to God for TV that’s evolved beyond Godzilla.
And thanks to him for frozen cream—both praline and vanilla.
Another pleasure is writing in bed. It’s how I start my day.
With no spouse or kids to feed, it’s where I get to stay.
I know that grandkids would be nice, but still I’m rather grateful
that being childless cuts to nil the chances they’ll be hateful.

Chocolate and potato chips, together or alone
are two more guilty pleasures for which I must atone.
I try to limit quantities that pass between my lips,
for if I eat too many, they’re displayed upon my hips.
Another guilty pleasure that’s high upon my list
is a stupid TV show that somehow I just missed

the first time that it came around and which I must admit
is really superficial, although it was once a hit.
Still, I can’t stop watching it when I am all alone—
a guilty pleasure for which I’ve found ways I can atone.
I only watch it from the pool as I do exercise—
computer balanced within view while I aerobicize.

The show I watch is Beverly Hills Nine-Zero-Two-One-Oh.
And that’s about as far as this confession’s gonna go!
I’m sure I’m shrinking brain cells, but I grow them back again
by reading hours of Marcel Proust, and then Anais Nin!
My ending comment must be this sincere beatitude:
for friends who like me as I am, I have great gratitude.

Guilty for my sins and the excesses that are mine—
grateful for the friends who still insist that I am fine
if I never turn out perfect both in looks and my behavior,
I guess the fact that they’re not perfect either is my savior.
Guiltily and gratefully, we all pass through this life,
pudgy from our excesses and battered by our strife.

But that’s how life is patterned, and we all are lucky still
that of our guilty pleasures we’re allowed to have our fill.
Thanks be to our compulsions and life’s excesses of pleasure,
for all our peccadillos end up as life’s greatest treasure.
So, thanks be again for naughty things. We both love and revile them.
With some of them we stuff our mouths. With others, We just dial them.