Shy Cynic
I find your droll smile curious.
What’s more I find it spurious.
Your skewed lip, its mocking curl
as you address that certain girl
cannot hide the truth that you’ve been smitten.
By the love bug, you’ve been bitten.
In your heart, I see a lake
more moist than that dry smile you make.
Your truth’s exposed there in your eyes.
Please lose that smirk your glance belies.
Number 9 Blues
Those eyes,
that song,
a bird the color
of the moon
we met under.
The wind
a ribbon of sadness.
Cold hands,
broken heart—
all the hue
of a trumpet’s lonely staccato.
The theme of the camp is “When you Wish Upon a Star.” This camper has taken the theme seriously on his mask.
‘STRUTH
Your computer shares
whatever you choose for it to share.
If what leaks out is happiness,
then you’ve enriched us all.
Let humor be an infection you spread.
Share files overflowing with empathy,
documents that are the organs of kindness,
And above all,
Truth.
For dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Happiness
I wrote this intending to edit it, but when I counted the words, it was exactly 44 words, so I am going to try to let it be. In itself, it formed the star shape. I only discovered it when I centered it.
I changed two words because I had totally left out humor and had truth called for twice. So it was justified. I also switched “have folders” overflowing with empathy.” to “Share files overflowing with empathy.” The reason for the change is probably obvious. Okay..I am also changing “stores” and “store” with “shares” and “share.” Really need one letter more in line two, but leaving it alone. For now. Stay tuned.
Crazy Shirley Writes with Her Teeth, Lips and Tongue
When? says Crazy Shirley,
is the dreadlock on that bucolic
hot-giggle
Samson man
gonna just fall off?
He’s been dipping it in
beef stew and sugar
all day,
fahrenheit been hitting the top of the bulb!
He’s in a ubiquitous position,
’cause Bob Marley’s not in the general vocabulary
of this fraternity.
He’s kinda mucous-tasting and fecund.
His face? Chalk-white and he uses
a kitten in the morning for a wash cloth.
Hippopotamus?
Yeah
They’re heavy.
Sure.
And a goldfish is gutteral
while an owl
sorta chortles and
whooooooos.
I’m not that keen on bucolic,
but
I got a Ticonderoga tintype
that’s got the most fantastic hue!
A “sound” poem for dVerse Poets
Harvest Moon
Peeking in the window,
blanketing our dreams,
It is a welcome harvest moon
whose straight and narrow beams
filter through our window blinds,
bathing us with light,
coming once again
to fulfill its yearly rite—
a calm and soothing presence
that mitigates the night.
Not the blue of a heart before forgetting.
The blue of the sky above Colima Volcano,
no other clouds in it except one puff
of earth’s hot breath becoming visible
in the cool morning air.
Like blue caught in icicles.
Give me that blue.
A personal note of interest. The water in my house is heated by this volcano!
For dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Sky
Home
Broken shadows across the cracked ground
flow together when skies darken.
As night birds start to call,
we start our long walk
to that place where
light returns
when we
do.
The opening line of this Nonet is a line from the poem “To the Light of September” by W.S. Merwin. According to the nonet rules, each line had one less syllable, descending from nine to one.
For the dVerse Poets prompt
Can’t believe that I wrote this yesterday and forgot to post it to dVerse Poets! So here it is, a bit late.
Neologism
Once talk at the next table had hushed, I made the observation
that it was likely they were listening to our conversation.
And though they were both smirking and though their eyes were glistening,
they swore they were not eavesdropping. They were just overlistening!
For dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Eavesdrop. (This true story happened to a friend and me in 1981 in a small diner in Cannon Beach, Oregon.) A quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words.
A Speck of Dust
When it is over, said and done, it was a time and there was never enough of it, but now is the only time we have and there is as little of it as there was then, so it is time to live in the now, suspending worry for the time being, as well as regrets. Leave the groceries on the counter and the cats unfed and let the kids gorge on peanut butter and jelly for once and go out the back door into your own world and notice what is around you. What you have been blessed with. First of all, you are alive. Do you realize the miracle of that? The miracle of the evolution of your brain and your sexuality and your heart?. The existence of birdsong, a fingernail, a laugh–the simplest and most varied of things, all grown out of a speck of dust–less than a speck of dust. All of these things, good and bad, such miracles that we let the self-enthused politicians and rulers and directors of our world cause us to overlook. Seize your power. Force attention to that in life that is to be enjoyed. It is what you can do. Events in the world that you cannot change, even though you try? Do not let them change you. Look at the minuscule that you overlook each day. A petal, a beetle, light on a hummingbird’s wings. Their dart and hover. Notice details. That is where the beauty you may be overlooking resides. Take it in and take it with you when you reenter the life you have stepped out of for a brief while. Take it with you and share it with your children. It is the power you have in the world.
For dVerse Poets Prosery. (We were to write a prose piece starting with the first line as quoted above.)
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 