Tag Archives: #FOWC

Ill-Matched

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Ill-matched

The oscillation of her mind, intuitive to rational
from personal creations to political themes national
gave her husband mental whiplash. He barely could keep up.
He found her more exhausting than a brand new pup.

As she sat there prattling, he sat there like a stone.
Her frequency of chatter made him want to be alone.
Poor fellow just could not keep up. He had a mind more staid.
He pondered each new thought he had. Opinions must be weighed!

Meanwhile, her thoughts flew here and there, her mind much more creative.
She formed opinions quickly, while his mind was more debative.
How this couple got together was a matter of derision.
Their union, all their friends agreed, must have been her decision.

 

Prompt words today are stone, poor, intuitive, oscillation, frequency, intuitive and grand. Photos by Brooke Cagle and Usman Yousaf on Unsplash

Lost

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Lost

When he said that he would lead the way, she meekly fell behind,
for to point out his meandering she felt would be unkind.
The luxuriant undergrowth clung to them in their passing,
the creeks they crossed edulcorating all they were amassing
in pants cuffs and in pockets: burrs and and leaves and pollen,
as he led the way through ditches and over trees fresh-fallen.

And though he seemed decisive, she knew that they were lost.
She followed to preserve his pride, but at what a cost?
Each quirky decision led them more astray
as she followed in his footsteps even though she knew the way.
When they finally reached their cabin, a shower, brush and comb
would eradicate the proof that they took the long way home!

Prompt words are luxuriant, decisive, quirky, edulcorate (to free or purify by washing) and leading. Photos by Joshua Woroniecki and Kurt Liebhaeuser on Unsplash.

And here is my favorite Tom Waits song, “The Long Way Home.”  Seems appropriate to include it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCk-f03o6aA

Peckish

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Peckish

Just a slight off-center peck on each proffered cheek
is all urbane society ever seems to seek.
First at “Hello,” then “Goodbye,” it’s only a dry token
of all  of the emotion that might be shown or spoken.

It’s as though a more demonstrative form of recognition,
some heartfelt hug or sincere words of fond admission,
some scrumptious soppy kiss on lips or action more revealing
might upset the applecart by showing our real feeling.

We love “love” in the movies or the pages of our books.
We desire seductive actions and long and smoldering looks—
kisses full of passion and genuine elation—
yet our own dry hand shakes are devoid of titillation.

I’m craving real emotion in place of mere air-kisses—
some lips that meet their mark, not just these weak near-misses.
It’s time for modern science to come up with a potion
that puts action in reaction and more motion in emotion!

 

Prompt words today are action, scrumptious, urbane, goodbye and recognition. Image by Limor Zellermayer on Unsplash.

 

Some Truths about the Jellyfish

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Some Truths about the Jellyfish

The fact is that the jellyfish
will never be a deli fish,
for when one tries to catch their goo
in nets, they’ll find it slips right through.

Their choreography includes
frequent oozing interludes,
the ramifications of this being
that the jellyfish you’re seeing

might be prone to disappear.
So for a moment he is here
and then he’s gone and over there
peering at you from his lair.

A kaleidoscope of colors that
sometimes look skinny, then look fat—
expanding to a great extent.
Shrinking and swelling is their bent

So if you seek a belly fish,
please rule out the jellyfish,
for though I know they look delicious,
they simply aren’t edible fishes.

Prompt words today are kaleidoscope, choreography, ramification and jellyfish. Photo by Maxime Bouffard downloaded from Unsplash.

Disciplinary Action

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Disciplinary Action

Lately, my life is like a fresh peach
at the end of a limb, slightly out of reach.
With an air of foreboding, I reach out to pluck it,
then choose not to pick or bite into or suck it,
fearing fate’s censure if I choose to buck it.

The joy of communion seems lately to dissipate.
Events come and go but I do not participate.
Whereas once I said, “Yes,” now I always say “No.”
The presence of friends is a joy I forego,
for there seem to be dangers wherever I go,

Bamboozled by nature, what choice do we have?
This seems like a wound for which there’s no salve.
Each of us suffers, apart and alone
as if there are sins for which we must atone,
our closest communion carried out via phone.

We sit at our windows viewing the parade
of all of the glories that nature has made.
We Skype and we Facebook, we tweet and we Zoom,
feigning good cheer as we contemplate doom,
all of us children sent to our room.

Will there be an end to this long isolation?
If we mend our ways, will there be consolation?
If we clean up our oceans and clean up our sky,
can we address our sins , having figured out  why
mankind has  been chosen to sicken and die?

Prompts for the day are foreboding, bamboozle, peach, dissipate and presence.

Total Recall

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Total Recall

The world of our grandmother has been subsumed
by modern conventions but is exhumed
when remembering the cabin where all our relations
 joined us each year for summer vacations.

Ping-pong and campfires and dunks in the lake.
Muddy dirt beaches on which we would bake
and turn brown in the sun, turning over in turns
to inspect our tan lines and moderate burns.

S’mores over campfires and mulligan stew
cooked on the coals and trips to the loo
making our way in the moonlight at night,
battling mosquitos and all things that bite.

Slapping our necks and our arms and our knees
at chiggers and ticks and horseflies and fleas.
Such glorious penance to pay for the fun
of cousins and swimming holes, horses and sun.

Vacations contemporary just don’t equal
those trips of our youth that have no modern sequel.
They live in our memories where we remember
Pleasures of July we recall in December.

 

Prompt words today are ping-pong, contemporary, cabin, subsume and grandmother.
Again, this is fiction. The camping memories were actually from church camp in the Black Hills
where I went every year. Loved it.

Rainy Day Doldrums

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Rainy Day Doldrums

I’m frenetic with fog, frustrated by rain.
Drop after drop, again and again.
Drumming on roof tiles and gushing in gutters.
Dropping from drain spouts in loud splashing mutters.
Too cold and too dark to chance a meander,
I pull back the drapes to take a small gander.
This poem is a tribute to dryness and sun.
I’ll be glad when the rainy season is done.

I pull back the drapes to have a small ganderPrompts today are fog, frenetic, gander, tribute and glad.

Sticky Fingers

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Sticky Fingers

Gram’s a kleptomaniac. It’s known all over town.
She’ll glom onto anything the neighbors don’t tie down.
It’s obvious what she’s up to, for she takes no pains to hide it.
She’ll peer into the coffee spout to see what is inside it
and if it isn’t boiling hot, she’ll make off with the whole of it.
She’ll steal anything in sight, for “need” is not the goal of it.

She collects things in the daylight and sneaks out after dark.
She has no fear of guard dogs. She’s not warned off by their bark.
Unabashed, she faces up to every cluck and frown
as she steals coins from collection plates of every church in town.
My dad makes restitution and gives them more besides
while my mom checks out the stashes of everything she hides

and returns things to their owners. It’s become her daily chore
and Grandma doesn’t seem to mind. She goes out and gets more.
I don’t have to tell you that my Gran’s become notorious.
It’s fun for her but for the rest of us, it’s turned laborious.
We have to take turns following and keeping track of all
she sticks into her pockets when visiting the mall.

As she stuffs things in the right side, we extract stuff from the left.
She’s so busy pilfering, she doesn’t feel bereft
of all the things she stole before for she cannot remember
what she lifted seconds before with fingers swift and limber.
Mom and her brother say that soon we’ll have to lock Gram in,
but for now they’re letting her enjoy her life of sin.

For years she put up like a Saint with everything they did.
So for now they’re letting my grandma be the kid!!

 

Before you ask, this is fiction. Prompt words for the day are spout, glom, kleptomaniac, obvious and daylight, Image by Cassia Tofano on Unsplash.

Sticking to the Straight and Narrow

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Sticking to the Straight and Narrow
(Mother Superior’s Rejoinder)

Please do not lollygag. There’s no time more.
We’re closing the shutters and locking the door.
Wipe those dreams from your brain, for it is our fear
that your thoughts will diverge from the prim and austere.
Make sure your spirit is pearl white and pure
with no sinful streaks to compete with demure.
Deadly sins number from one up to seven,
and striated souls will not make it to heaven.

 

Prompt words today are lollygag, austere, brain, striate and lock.

Unrequited Affection

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Unrequited Affection

Love that’s unrequited garners no reward
as biological regions go completely unexplored.
Base instincts unconsidered insure that there’s no race,
with lover and beloved keeping a different pace.

Those romantic vistas each may view along the way
are simply viewed by “her” or”him,” for there is no “they.”
As wonderful as love may be when it’s reciprocated,
All-in-all some people find that it is overrated.

 

Prompt words today are requite, base,  vista, garner and biological,
Image by Ilyuza Mingazo on Unsplash.