Pilot Error
His vulgarity made her bashful,
his irreverence drew tears.
He had inadequate finesse
to soothe away her fears.
So though he wished to woo her,
in the end he failed.
When he tried to fly her to the moon,
his passenger just bailed.
Prompt words today are finesse, irreverent, vulgar and bashful.
photo by Tim Mossholder, courtesy of Unsplash, with permission.
Ephemera
In the ballpark of the universe, there is no referee.
Chaos theory is the rule book. As sure as we may be
that we have followed all the rules, there is no guarantee
that fame won’t be ephemeral even though we’ve won the game.
On the scoreboard of the universe is no eternal fame.
However much the hero, however bright the flame,
In the end, we’re similar—just another name
lost within the cosmos. Another exploding star
that once thought that history would record who we are.
What We Must Do
I take an inventory of my heart.
There is nurture there,
and some peace,
but when I think about
the jealous nature of our world,
a bit of it nestled, I must admit,
in me as well,
I worry about the heart of all of us,
for surely the hate and greed that jealousy seeds
is somehow fostered by us all,
no matter how much we protest it.
Where has putting up with this greed brought us?
Children are taken from their parents
and kept in cages in our country.
What can we do save protesting on Facebook?
Are we willing to face the guns
of those whose salaries we pay
to risk saving the children ourselves?
Weak children of our century,
we have to brandish our voting pens like swords.
They are our weapons.
Our agents for nourishing our souls.
The prompts for today are peace, inventory, nurture and jealous.
Sinning
Out here at my grandpa’s farm, there isn’t any sinning.
We’re as innocent as Eve way back at the beginning
before original sin was born, decreed by the Almighty
and Eve was forced to don a fig leaf in lieu of a nightie.
As we kneel to milk the cows, we also kneel in prayer,
peeling all our sins away, layer after layer.
But I prefer to say Eve’s sin was merely hers alone.
I should get to do the sin for which I must atone!
Sisters
Squabbles between siblings seem to be a common thread
in every family I know, no matter how well bred.
Pillow fights might escalate into something more—
slapping and hair-pulling and rolling on the floor.
Age nourishes the problem with petty jealousy.
Nothing like a boy to end a sister’s loyalty!
Squabbles over borrowed clothes—a stain or a ripped hem,
hormones, insecurities and problems strictly femme.
Cruel labels given: “sloppy, slutty, fat,”
exacerbate the problem by giving tit for tat.
All the sisters of our friends seem to be so swell.
Why is it that we had to draw the sister straight from Hell?
At what point does the shift occur? When do the battles end?
What turns a sparring sister into a girl’s best friend?
Nieces and nephews help by turning sisters into aunties.
Bonding over choosing pretty dresses, frilly panties.
What is it in a baby that tends to heal old wrongs?
Memories of past adventures? Those re-remembered songs?
Old squabbles once forgotten make way for fonder thought—
giving thanks at last for the sisters that we’ve got.
Prompts for today are sibling, label, nourish and exacerbate.
Abandoned
Droplets on the window screen are caught, each in its trap—
a wire cage suspending them inches from my lap.
Your silkscreen propped against the wall, only half completed.
My heart, once full, now emptying, each moment more depleted.
You’ve vanished with your waxes. Our nuptial pledge seems over.
Your true nature reassumed, once more you are a rover.
This half-empty silkscreen your only good-bye letter,
my father’s warnings fill my mind. I should have known you better.
Prompts today are droplet, silkscreen, deal and betray.
First
After the dance, we walked the streets all the long night through,
moving to a doorstep to avoid the cleaning crew.
You let me rabbit on about every silly thing,
then made your wordless statement as the morning birds took wing.
Lifting through the rising sun, they faded into mist,
unaffected by the fact that I had just been kissed.
Then you restored my fallen hat, my scattered keys and purse,
that morning without equal in my young universe.
