Tag Archives: isolation

Sealed Windows

 

Sealed Windows

A progressive woman is something that she’s not.
Way back in the fifties she’s permanently caught.
Travel to new countries? Definitely no.
She won’t let other countries profit from her dough!

She has no curiosity about the human race.
Her interest in humanity ends in her own face.
She sits before her mirror like a window to the world.
Is her lipstick even—her hair correctly curled?

Bravery to her is answering the door.
She walks out to her mailbox, but further? No. No more.
She boils all her bed linen, lest creatures linger there
to creep onto her body and nest within her hair.

All the wounds her life will bear long ago were healed.
She’s a preserved specimen of life, hermetically sealed.
She’ll face no other heartache, no risks of being hurt.
She will not chance a world of germs, bacteria and dirt.

Cats are unhygienic and dogs an equal threat.
A goldfish in a bowl is her single lonely pet.
No companion goldfish to fill its tiny bowl.
Its full attention trained on her seems to be her goal.

All those tight-sealed windows with their draperies pulled tight.
All those single bedside bulbs burning through the night.
Behind each building’s blinded eyes, how many just like her—
sealed inside a bell jar, safe from the world’s rude whirr?

Esther’s Weekly Writing Prompt is “Window.”

“Far from the Madding Crowd”:

Solitary Confinement

My world is a clam with me gathered up in it.
With no one else to arrange it or spin it.
I do not deviate, wander or travel.
No complications for me to unravel.
Life proffers no parties and no invitations.
No drop-in guests and no visitations.
Gatherings are not my present domain,
so if I were invited, I’d surely abstain.
I’m sealed in my world— happily, sublimely,
for group celebrations are simply not timely.
Lately for me, the crowds are not madding.
It’s taken a virus for me to stop gadding.

Prompt words today are clam, deviate, timely, proffer and gather.

Blue Monday

This poem was inspired by a misread line in Jan Wilberg’s Red’s Threads blog. What she said was, “Everything is very still here.” How I at first read it forms the last line of my poem, which also fulfills the dVerse Poet’s prompt of “Blue.” In place of one quadrille, the poem is actually composed of two quadrilles, the last line of one rhyming with the first line of the second:

Blue Monday

It’s not that I’m lonely. I’ve plenty to do,
and yet for some reason, I’m just feeling blue.
The thunder has stopped, though the night’s overcast.
The stars I saw three nights ago were the last
interrupting the dark that surrounds like a shroud.

Here I am still apart from the world’s rowdy crowd.
My dogs curled up in slumber, my cats in their bed,
all of my company curled in my head.
Alone in my house with familiar things near,
everything, everything’s still very here.

 

For dVerse Poets Quadrille prompt: Blue.

Empty Datebook

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Empty Datebook

Another lonely Saturday. The singles are all vexed—
a world of restless wallflowers, feeling they’re surely hexed.
If I may be candid, Corona’s not at fault.
You’re not some precious treasure, sealed up in a vault.
If we did our homework, we’d know the truth of it.
You didn’t have that many  dates  before the virus hit!

 

Prompts today are Saturday, Candid, Lonely, Vex and Homework.

Yoga and Chocolate Chip Cookies in a Time of Shelter in Place

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Yoga and Chocolate Chip Cookies in a Time of Shelter in Place

I   stands alone at stiff attention,         cooking to release her tension.
 S   does curls to contradict her             tendency toward getting thicker.
 O  shows effects of chocolate chips     on her tummy and her hips.
 L   just sits there in her hut                   trying to compress her butt.
 A   Hands on knees, head on floor,      “A” vows that she will binge no more.
 T   spreads her wings but cannot fly.   “Eating in Place” the reason why.
  I   folds her wings tight by her side.
 O   eats more cookies, growing wide.
 N   sits on butt in yoga pose.
       Each hand on floor behind her goes,
       feet raised up, point to the sky,
       resisting the effects of pie
       on tummy, waist and hips and thigh.

 

For NaPoWriMo 2020, Day 23, the prompt was: “to write a poem about a particular letter of the alphabet, or perhaps, the letters that form a short word. Think about the shape of the letter(s), and use that as the take-off point for your poem.”

Empty Spaces

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Empty Spaces

The world has stilled its hectic pace, although its clocks tick on.
We stand at windows peering out, imagining what’s gone.
Rapid passings night and day, our reachings and attainings
have made way for the meantime to leave us our remainings.
There is a little secret the Swiss learned long ago
that has to do with leaving space—the worth of going slow.
Their cheese that is the richest is full of empty spaces—
its flavor made the tangier by what nature erases.
The holes are not just emptiness, for factors that have made them
create a richer cheese than the cheeses that evade them.
The blocks with larger spaces have a better taste.
In short, the empty room they leave is anything but waste.
Perhaps it is the same with the new spaces in our lives.
Perhaps the empty spaces are where the meaning thrives.

Note: Holes in Swiss cheese are created by the bacteria which change milk to cheese. Propionibacterium uses the lactic acid which is produced by other bacteria, and produces carbon dioxide gas; the gas slowly forms bubbles which makes the holes. In general, Swiss cheeses with larger eyes have a better taste.

Prompts today are Swiss, hectic, attain, secret and clock. Image by Mathew Schwartz on Unsplash. Used with permission.

6:30 A.M. Vicarious Pleasures: NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 5

 

6:30 A.M. Vicarious Pleasures in a Time of Covid

My day is a guest who arrives too early,
starting the party without me to the insistent drumbeat
of a distant all-night party not yet over.

Its music sketches a portrait of my distant past:
wild nights, the sharp bite of tequila,
casual passion draped across my back.

Kukla the girl cat’s clever claws push me from my bed. 
Other than her insistent cries for desayuno,
this new day written across my life
comes with invisible directions. 

It smells like fresh-blooming plumeria
and tastes like Nescafé with Coffee-Mate and stevia.

It is too tame, this safe life with so many hand-washings
that they rise to my tongue and foam as I speak to myself in the mirror,
keeping six feet of distance even with myself
as I wait for the arrival and my capture
by this distant threat creeping ever closer.

Sangre de Cristo,” mutters Jesus the water vendor,
taking his own name in both vein and vain as he
reminds me to keep my distance—
La señora, no matter how generous a tipper, now a threat.
I sweep his footsteps from the doorway,
set them on fire and gather their ashes for a poem.

The birds sing their way into my verses,
as does the snake that lies coiled in my kitchen sink.
I taste the language of all of them,
real life as surreal as any dream—
this world a wasp nest,
each of us sealed up in our individual cell.

Without a life, I write one for myself.
You are invited to join it here on my sanitary screen.
Make your rejoinders more clever than Alexa’s or Siri’s,
so I can dispense with the both of them.
Imagine me touching your words I cannot hear,
and make them less sharp than what you might be feeling.


A stream of family music from below
flows up the mountainside to pool in my ears.
I breathe the perfume of that family.
I savor its taste—tamarind, lime and salt,

the homeyness of bland tortillas—
and hope they are kept safe there.

I’m combining six prompts today. The five word prompts today are clever, portrait, distant, capture and arrival. I’m combining them with the NaPoWriMo Day 5 prompt which includes 20 explicit directions. To read other poems written to this prompt, go HERE.

  1. Begin the poem with a metaphor.
  2. Say something specific but utterly preposterous.
  3. Use at least one image for each of the five senses, either in succession or scattered randomly throughout the poem.
  4. Use one example of synesthesia (mixing the senses).
  5. Use the proper name of a person and the proper name of a place.
  6. Contradict something you said earlier in the poem.
  7. Change direction or digress from the last thing you said.
  8. Use a word (slang?) you’ve never seen in a poem.
  9. Use an example of false cause-effect logic.
  10. Use a piece of talk you’ve actually heard (preferably in dialect and/or which you don’t understand).
  11. Create a metaphor using the following construction: “The (adjective) (concrete noun) of (abstract noun) . . .”
  12. Use an image in such a way as to reverse its usual associative qualities.
  13. Make the persona or character in the poem do something he or she could not do in “real life.”
  14. Refer to yourself by nickname and in the third person.
  15. Write in the future tense, such that part of the poem seems to be a prediction.
  16. Modify a noun with an unlikely adjective.
  17. Make a declarative assertion that sounds convincing but that finally makes no sense.
  18. Use a phrase from a language other than English.
  19. Make a non-human object say or do something human (personification).
  20. Close the poem with a vivid image that makes no statement, but that “echoes” an image from earlier in the poem.

Plaza Scene in the Time of the Coronavirus


Plaza Scene in the Time of the Coronavirus

Birds pick at rice
gone stale on the steps of the church.
Doors closed,
no choir sings matins
on this Sunday morn.

Rolling over in their beds
or gathered around the breakfast table,
the faithful listen to the mass
broadcast over speakers
loud enough to be heard a mile away,

while belligerent teens, sabotaging
their parents’ careful advice,
make the green benches
in the plaza across the street

their communal habitat.

 

Prompt words for today are belligerent, care, sabotage, rice and habitat.

Whatcha Got Cooking?

Themes on blogs seem to be falling into categories lately. Travels home, shopping lists, isolation activities, pets and what’s cooking! Here is what was being cleaned, chopped, combined, cooked and/or eaten today at my house. No, I didn’t eat all of this. Some of it I just cooked.

(Click on photos to enlarge and read the details on what’s cookin’.)

Strangely enough, when I copied the above photos onto the media file, this song just added itself. I promise. I had nothing to do with it, but since it has to do with food, I’m letting it stay. I was just thinking I wish I had some chocolate as I used the last of mine on the popcorn above. Words to this song are by me. Music and performance by Christine Anfossie. Click on URL below to hear “Chocolate.”

https://judydykstrabrown.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/judydb_choccake-new-2-copy-2.wav

 

Isolated Objects in Black and White

Some of these images are small in the collage. Click on them to enlarge.)

For Cee’s “BLACK AND WHITE Isolated Objects” prompt.