Tag Archives: Judy Dykstra-Brown Poems

Sport Retort

Sport Retort

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When faced with talk of games and sport,
I seldom have cause to retort.
For dribbling, sparring, touching  down
raise no emotions but a frown.
The games I play are just of mind
Less physically taxing and more kind.

Using tongues and brains to spar,
I am more likely  under par
than when I hit a pock-marked ball
off of the course to hit a wall,
bounce off and into someone’s car
to be transported to regions far.

I have not thought to scream out, “Fore!”
My terminology’s as poor,
I fear, as my coordination,
I will not, ever, stun the nation
with my prowess with balls or bats,
parallel bars, hurdles or mats.

Likewise, I have no interest in
watching others skate and spin,
touch balls down or thrust a fist.
When it comes to sports, I must insist
when the tube depicts each bout,
I am forgiven for running out!!!

 

(Thanks for the loan of the golf balls, Jan!)

The Prompt:  Are you a sports fan? If not, tell us why.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fandom/

Rating Dating

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Rating Dating

Some men seem to run their dating game like it’s a race,
whereas for their date this doesn’t seem to be the case.
If so, I must advise the guy to try to slow his pace
lest the lady feel that she must slow him down with mace!

She may be superficial, while he is way too smart;
or he may adore motocross while she’s a fan of art.
She’s olfactorily sensitive and he just let a fart.
Such opposites do not attract in the affairs of heart.

In chick flicks when a date goes wrong, it is always funny.
She runs into a former love or he runs out of money.
But no matter how things go, the endings are all sunny.
By the credits, she is “dear” and he is always “honey.”

In real life, when it comes to love, I prefer to view it.
Much easier to say you want it than to really do it.
The problem is if either of you chooses to eschew it,
then the other one of you must admit that they blew it.

So for the couplet, I’ll admit that yes, true love is groovy;
but when it comes to dating, I’ll just settle for the movie!!!

 

The Prompt––Third Rate Romance: Tell us about your funniest romantic relationship disaster. https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/third-rate-romance/

Why Blog?

Why Blog?
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If I didn’t have this blog to do, I’d probably wash the dishes
or do the other daily chores that go against my wishes.
I’d have to clean my desk off and put everything away–
tasks that more or less consume the best part of my day.
I might have to mend or clean or sweep or dust or cook.
But mainly, I’d have no excuse for putting off the book
that has been in my computer for a year or more––complete,
waiting for its formatting. Everyone I meet
asks if I have finished it, so I can just repeat
the excuse that’s easier than falling off a log.
“I’d like to but I have no time. I have to write my blog!”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Million-Dollar Question.” Why Blog?

No News is Bad News

As I eat my morning toast,
I like to read the Morning Post.
But often, once my toast is browned,
The Morning Post’s not to be found.
I brew the coffee and have a cup,
willing the newsboy to show up.

As I eat my morning eggs,
my husband sputters, nags and begs
until I fantasize a muzzle.
He wants his morning crossword puzzle!
Yet that newsboy still delays
as breakfast passes without a phrase.

We leave for work sad and bereft,
looking to the right and left.
My husband prods and pokes and pushes
in case the news lies in the bushes,
but only finds an errant bee
and a missing front door key.

All day that sense of loss still lingers
as I crave newsprint on my fingers.
Somehow the day just isn’t nice
when it passes without advice.
No comics page? No horoscope?
All day I sit alone and mope.

Others ‘round me may be seen
watching news upon a screen.
But it isn’t quite the same,
so please excuse me while I blame
my bad mood once more on the kid
who brings the news––but never did!

By evening when I arrive home,
that rolled up, backless, coverless tome
has finally shown up by our door;
but day-old news is just a bore,
and comics read to a setting sun
somehow do not seem so fun.

As our puppy greets me, paws and muzzle,
I extract the crossword puzzle,
then smooth the rest and scoop it up
to place it under our wiggly pup
who lifts his leg and pees upon it.
News is not made to sup on it!

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Connect the Dots.” ––Scour the news for an entirely uninteresting story. Consider how it connects to your life. Write about that.

Lucky School: JNW’s Prompt Generator

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Lucky School

I don’t often write of it since it is such a bore,
but bad luck’s had a hold on me since nineteen eighty-four.
The tragedies that equal mine are just the stuff of lore:
sad tales of loves and lives lost–tales of heartache, blood and gore.

Don’t beg to hear my stories, for I won’t tell you more.
Thinking of my problems has me tired to the core.
I want to concentrate on now without the past’s loud roar,
and banish former labels such as “victim, tragic, poor.”

My friends all chipped in for me to go to Lucky School–
believing positive thinking might prove a handy tool.
They figured they’d transform me into wizard from a fool,
so that drawing fortune to me would become my daily rule.

I found a four-leaf clover and a heart shaped like a stone.
I got the longest section when I broke the wishing bone.
I found a silver dollar and rubbed it ‘til it shone,
then gave it to a beggar—a hump-backed aged crone.

The lessons that they taught me in my Lucky School
were that stones may be more valuable than a precious jewel.
Good luck’s never garnered from actions that are cruel
and to never save our gift-giving for birthdays or the Yule.

The way we gain good luck is just to give it all away
every single moment of every single day.
Our trying to hoard it is what keeps good luck at bay.
The luck you give to others is the luck you’ll get to stay.

Good luck is not for finding. It’s simply what you do.
When you hand it off to others, somehow it sticks like glue;
first adhering to the lucky one that you gave it to,
then doubling so an equal part remains right there with you.

The way life keeps the truth obscured sometimes seems most cruel.
How many years I wasted playing the selfish fool.
My friends needn’t have squandered their money on my school,
for all I really needed was to heed the Golden Rule.

The prompt provided me by JNW Topic Generator was: Lucky School. Go Here to receive your own prompt. * *

The Dating Game

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The Dating Game

The prompt I generated on JNW’s Prompt Generator was: “tender opportunity.” I hit the generator button again and got “repulsive industry,” When I saw both prompts together, a perfect topic came  to mind. These prompts, in tandem, seemed to describe the two sides of the online social-introduction industry perfectly, so I decided to try to use both prompts. Although this poem sounds a bit bitter, it is really meant tongue-in-cheek as the first phrase was tweaked a bit by the second. I’ve met some really nice guys in the past six years I’ve been on social sites, but just none where both of us wanted to make it permanent.

In the past couple of years, OKC has changed a lot and doesn’t seem to be the special place it once was. They’ve taken away journals, forums, awards, search engines and erased the first few years of information. I’ve pretty much replaced it with blogging, which seems to work better for really getting to know people and the focus has changed from searching for love in all the wrong places to forming real bonds with words, not faces. A few good friends have even followed me from OKC. You know who you are. Here is my little ditty on the subject of the two prompts mentioned above:

When I Joined OkCupid

I considered it to be
a tender opportunity.
Instead I fear it just became
a sort of endless dating game.

Crabby grandpas, lying spouses,
hermits shut up in their houses,
voyeurs looking for a thrill,
twenty-somethings with time to kill.

Men who say they want to talk
who, when asked questions, merely balk.
Whatever it claims to be,
It’s a repulsive industry

a place that doesn’t want to match us
but rather just to try to catch us
in a web of constant circulation–
a type of lovelorn masturbation.

Years later, I’ve made special friends
and yet the cycle never ends.
Though I’d like love with every fiber,
I fear my love life remains cyber.

 *

Punishment by Pillory

The Prompt: Red Pill, Blue Pill. If you could get all the nutrition you needed in a day with a pill — no worrying about what to eat, no food preparation — would you do it?

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Punishment by Pillory

No potato chips, no chocolate cake?
That’s a mistake I’d never make.

The only time I’ll take a pill
is when I’m dieting. Or ill.

You can’t chew a pill or lick it,
so why on earth would you pick it?

What dinner guest would linger late
with just one pill upon his plate?

In short, I find them unfulfilling.
So no! I don’t desire pilling!

For more answers to this question, go here: Red Pill, Blue Pill.