Tag Archives: poem about life


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Every day
is the anniversary
of something,
our lives a potpourri
of past occasions
left to dry in memory.

We traverse
the calendar of our lives
like a game of hopscotch,
dipping into pockets
for a means to play the game
and one day finding chocolates,
the next bitter almonds, 
one made sweeter by that other
that is made more bearable
by the promise of  its opposite.

Today is the anniversary
of seventy-two other days
that added to the rest of the days
granted me by a generous fate,
add up to 26,403
and a life that daily 
has been given to me
like a present
whose contents
I get to choose.

Prompts for today are anniversary,potpourri, generous, traverse and chocolate.




Please click on photos to enlarge.


I’ve put my life together
like a patchwork quilt,
and almost finished.
It is beautiful—
the lawn freshly groomed,
drawers organized,
all of the pictures straightened on the walls.
Friends, travel, career, family, art, writing–
a happy life that 
I have stitched together,
hiding the pain under the seams.

The NaPoWriMo prompt today is  to peruse the work of  a twitter bot, and use a line or two, or a phrase or even a word that stands out to you, as the seed for your own poem.  “Under the seams runs the pain.” is the line from a Mary Ruefle tweet that I selected as my seed. When I Googled it, it said that it was a quote by  Anne Carson in Autobiography of Red,

For some reason, my Photos system has gone crazy on my computer and I can’t preview or edit them or get them down to size, so I’m publishing this and will try to add photos later. Thanks to Forgottenman, we now have photos.  I hope.




However many acts we stage, however many innings,
we’re constantly made vulnerable by our new beginnings.
One resolution brings another problem to be mounted—
a new one starting just as soon as the last one is counted.
We ascend each mountain, and when we reach the top,
we see summit after summit and know we’ll never stop.
It may seem that for some others life is a flat plain.
We may resent our struggles, but as much as we complain,
catching sight of that new mountain, we begin the climb again.


Prompts today are new beginnings, vulnerable,resolution, ascend and stop.

Black Cloud


Black Cloud

She felt she was a target for adversity
and rued the problems of her life in their immensity. 

Each day was a new puzzle produced for her to solve,

as though she had to face it in order to evolve.

Her very productivity was challenged day by day—

always a new dragon to face and then to slay.

Year after year she dealt with trouble after trouble,

each day another needle meant to burst her bubble,

until her forced retirement brought relief at last.

No more new dilemmas coming at her fast.

When life that had been speeding by shifted down in gears,
still that feeling of relief she’d waited for for years

always seemed around the bend. Her spirits never soared,
for when her life turned trouble-free, she ended up just bored.


Prompt words today are puzzle, productive, target and adversity.


Click on any photo to enlarge all.



Every conversation is a quest two people enter
from opposite  directions to converge at its center.
The hard part of the journey commences with their greeting—
an intricate endeavor not completed with first meeting.

With each new associate, we visit a new land.
With each conversation, our horizons expand
into lands exotic, tragic or entertaining.
Perhaps enemy territory—often with no training.

Do we take umbrage with their words or enter, unprotesting,
the world that they offer—experimenting, testing
new mental mountains, jungles where vivid birds might call,
beckoning us onwards, or do we meet a wall

that offers us no access—sealed up, rigid, cold—
closed to all explorers, nearly obscured with mold?
What journeys do we offer ourselves to those we meet?
Do we offer easy access or promise sure defeat?

Life was designed for journeying. Daily, new vacations.
Some conversations novels and others mere quotations.
Some trips an experience you wouldn’t choose again—
just another whistle stop on life’s commuter train.


The prompt words today are quest, umbrage, intricate and associate.


Mystery Play

Mystery Play

A mystery is hopeful, but it isn’t a sure thing.
Who knows what good or evil a mystery might bring?
It might deliver packages tied up in pretty string—
or it might deliver pain instead. Some mysteries have sting.

Life likes to dish out both and we often have no choice.
One door might cause us to regret, another to rejoice.
One without the other is just not nature’s way.
We take rewards with one hand. With the other, we must pay.

Taking off for the beach today.  The three prompts that were ready are deliver, hopeful and mystery.


A Surefire Recipe for Banishing Dejection

Click on first photo to enlarge all.


A Surefire Recipe for Banishing Dejection

If you’re feeling down and out about this last election,
here’s a recipe that might banish your dejection.
Or, if instead your problem is way too much to do,
this selfsame concoction might just work for you.

You need to take a holiday away from all your hurrying.
Life was not created for perpetual worrying.
Take all the world’s problems and put them on a shelf.
Take a little time off  purely for yourself.

Find a ripe banana, a papaya and some ice.
Blueberries, soy milk, fiber and some apple juice are nice.
Don’t worry if the papaya has a big brown spot.
You can cut it out because, poisonous? It’s not.

Put it in a blender. Push the button with your finger.
It’s not automatic, so you will have to linger
while the magic little blades make your concoction thinner.
Take a meditation break as you watch its spinner.

After just a minute, retire with your drink.
Take it to an easy chair to have a little think.
Chances are your problem is that you do not sin enough,
so, pour a little gin in if you find it isn’t thin enough.

The Ragtag prompt today is Holiday.




Life is like a tapestry, warp giving strength to weave.
Each birth’s celebration a potential loss to grieve.
We might wrangle living’s fairness, its giving and its taking—
one soul giving into sleep as a new soul is waking.
Its weave may seem circuitous, beginnings onto leavings,
all the energy of life–its lovings and its heavings,
yet the flaw within the tapestry is what gives it its beauties.
The pleasures of the life we live are leavened by its duties.


The prompts today are energy, tapestry, circuitous, wrangle.





Neap Tide


Three years ago I published this poem with no ending, asking commenters to construct an ending.  There were a number of excellent solutions, but unfairly, I never published one of my own, so I’m giving myself the additional assignment to finish the poem  since it also makes use of today’s prompt word of  “tide.” I’ve made many adjustments in the original poem and added the last stanza. 

Neap Tide

Borne, then born.
Clothed, fed, shorn.
Housed and cuddled,
Brain filled and muddled,
schooled, polished, allowed to roam,
to make the world into a home.

In my third quarter, now sedate.
Content to let my life abate.
Find worlds inside and there abide,
to let what happens be my guide.
To try to live with less precision.
To fear less the world’s derision.

Why so hard to be oneself?
Easier when on the shelf.
Now as I pull my world around me,
memories and dreams surround me—
my solitude a crystal jar
that lets me ponder from afar.

The current of my life, its tide,
reaches without and pulls inside
the things that help me try to see
where my life has taken me.
I contemplate and sometimes share
the truths that I’ve discovered there.

You come to read and judge each word
as wise, amusing or absurd.
You give new insights to what I’ve said—
poems not completed until they’re read.
Less in the world, ironically,
more of the world’s discovered me.



If you’d like to see how others  ended the poem three years ago, go HERE.

The prompt today was tide.

There’s No Denying Nature, Daily Post Apr 6 and NaPoWriMo Day 5


There’s No Denying Nature

There’s no denying nature, it surrounds us one and all.
Each time the palm tree shudders and its blossoms start to fall,
they cloak the water of my pool and cover every stone
that paves my outer terrace as though they must atone

for some ill that must be covered up, some sin they’re meant to hide.
It cannot be I who have erred, for I am safe inside.
Yet who am I, denying these early April showers?
I come to float upon my back, surrounded by the flowers.

Though they might create problems with the pool drain and the filter,
throwing all our man-made systems more or less off-kilter,
yet each year I must admit I suffer a few qualms
as I call the men to come and trim the refuse from the palms.

There’s no denying nature, be it human or a tree.
Each day as I look up at them, they, too, look down on me.
They see my foibles and excesses—the errors I have sown
And like forgiving neighbors, cloak my messes with their own.



The WordPress prompt today is “denial.” I’m also combining it with the NaPoWriMo prompt for April 4.  That prompt is: a slice of the natural world that you have personally experienced and optimally, one that you have experienced often.