The Divine Supine
A chunk of ham, a pint of beans,
a glass of wine, some magazines,
an afternoon stretched out supine,
a hearty meal on which to dine.
No serious tasks to stir and pique,
No work to do. No goal to seek.
“Pronto” not an adverb you’re
likely to hear to make you stir.
Lazy days and lazy nights
are what set the world to rights.
Prompt words today are chunk, pronto, pique, supine and serious.
Wishy-Washy
Simple pleasures lack that “Gosh!”
that goes with habits much more posh,
so I renounce such simple things
in favor of what richness brings.
If your response to what I choose
includes recital of what I’ll lose:
sunsets, laughter, hand-held walks,
peanut butter and midnight talks,
then perhaps I’ll change my mind
for pleasures of a simpler kind.
Prompt words today are simple pleasures, renounce, posh, recital and response.
Grandpa Discovers Virtual Reality
I’ve been over yonder and frankly I’m perplexed
about how all the young ‘uns seem to be so under-sexed.
Virtual reality makes real-time life a bore.
Why bother with reality when you can live on lore?
Real life takes some gumption but virtual life’s a snap.
Who needs real love with Kim Kardashian upon your lap?
It seems that in the future perhaps all folks will live thusly,
sitting watching screens to live their lives vicariously.
Prompt words are perplexed, vicariously, frankly, yonder and snap. Image by Lucrezia Carnelos on Unsplash.
Poetry Queen
Your poetry’s great, both gripping and fragile—
your style of delivery skillful and agile.
Swathed in your gear both sexy and hip,
you have the whole crowd within your cool grip.
Those reticent types who came thinking they’d jeer
are slapping their knees and crying in their beer.
Skillful at words and for sure in your prime,
you’re our favorite reciter of meter and rhyme.
Prompt words today are fragile, reticent, delivery, swathe and grip. Image by Marcos Paul on Unsplash.
Heirlooms
Heirloom quilts, wedding veils, and Grandma’s tablecloths
are but future feeding grounds for silverfish and moths.
Since we cannot control the changes that the future brings,
we should not be flummoxed by the loss of treasured things.
Their value is more visceral than literal, it’s true,
so time can rarely mitigate their presence within you.
North and south and east and west—wherever we are cast—
within our minds and hearts, we bear the treasures of our past.
I cannot help mourning the loss of this quilt handmade by my grandmother over 100 years ago which seems to have vanished from the assisted living facility where my sister lived for the last ten years of her life, so I guess this poem was mainly written to comfort myself.
Prompts today are tablecloth, visceral, flummox, mitigate and north.
The Poet Artist
“Poltroon!” He calls out in his sleep,
caught up in words, even when deep
in dreams—those places where he goes
where fresh ideas, rows upon rows,
spreading farther, stacking higher,
crowd his brain . And now, “Pismire!”
Is he building poems or sculptures there?
What new dream, what bold nightmare
will he allow to come to light
as soon as he has finished night
and carved his way into the the day?
The worker ant come out to play?
Carving stone into a face
or moving words from place to place.
All those schemes conceived in dreams
turned into his creative schemes.
I intrude, a kiss, a cuddle,
bringing love into the muddle
of his early morning head,
still sleeping here in my warm bed.
This is no coward sleeping here.
He has no qualms, displays no fear
of any challenge of his art
or adventures of the heart.
Metal, wood, paper and stone—
no one material alone
can solve his lust. He needs them all.
No stone too heavy. No scheme too tall.
And, alas, no woman will
manage to completely fill
that questing heart. That grasping soul.
seeking to reach that final goal.
See some results of those dreams HERE.
Prompt words today are poltroon, cuddle, pismire, allow and worker.
Harridan
I’m standing at the crossroads between a saint and bitch.
Schooled in forebearance, I’ve stayed within my nitch.
But lately things are changing. I’m losing self-control.
The hounds of Hell have been released and now they’re on patrol.
They’re fluting all the pillars formerly unmarked—
scoring them with unfurled claws every time they’ve barked.
Soon I will be certified as a nagging crone—
the sort of aging harpie who prefers to live alone.
I’m sure its hard to fathom it, as perfect as I’ve been,
kowtowing to authority—especially to men.
But privilege must come to all as we come to age,
so I’m expressing sovereignty, at least here on the page.
Word prompts today are flute, crossroads, certified, bitch. Image by Camila Quintero Franco on Unsplash.
A Suitable Ending
He made a wild adventure out of every act
as his imagination embellished every fact.
No detail insignificant in his lackluster life,
his tall tales irked his children and perplexed his wife.
Each plash became a tidal wave. Trips to the zoo were germinal—
fomenting tales of tigers on safaris nearly terminal.
His day would come, they warned him, but he was a stubborn bloke.
He thrived on spinning yarns and on concocting his next joke.
They always said they’d do him in—those wild tales he spun.
And in the end, his kin were right. He choked on a bad pun.
Prompts today are tiger, insignificant, perplex, plash and terminal.
UFO
You made your appearance without much excitation,
probably due most of all to your orientation
poised above my housetop and slightly to the right
for almost an hour that clear October night.
It seemed no one was watching—too early or too late
for the world to witness and to start a great debate
about bizarre lights in the sky that could not be explained.
Perhaps only I watched as your brilliance flared and waned.
And who am I to ruin my integrity
by sharing with the world what was only viewed by me?
Prompt words today are: watched, orientation, bizarre, integrity and appearance. Image by Rodion Kutsaev on Unsplash.
Clown Face
The majority of children, in fact every kid in town
would drop everything they’re doing to get painted by a clown.
In his coat of many colors and his distinctive rubber nose,
his ruffled baggy pants and his other funny clothes,
he’s bound to probe your funny bone and catch you in a smile.
He’ll paint your face like his if you’ll stand quiet for awhile,
and then the whole best part of it is up and down the street,
every door you knock on will provide you with a treat!!!!
Prompts for today are coat, probe, majority, distinct and drop.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 