Tag Archives: the daily spur

No Hints Given


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No Hints Given

Outdoors is bright and sunny. The rain has ceased its patter.
The pecking birds are pecking and the chattering birds chatter.
Butterflies stage a homecoming around the tabachine
announcing the retirement of the big machine
that worked the big lot next to me with giant rolling claws,
For eight long hours, it it scooped and scraped without a single pause.
It trounced the giant boulders and put them in their place,
crushed the weeds and tree limbs, leaving not a trace
of all the weeds and rubble, the stones and the debris,
burying it within the earth so we cannot see
all the ugliness of nineteen years’ accumulation.
of our neighborhood’s detritus, so here’s a small ovation.
What new event will crown this lot? What may be coming next?
I guess you’ll have to read about it in upcoming text.


I finally got my lot next door cleared of all the debris neighbors have been piling on it for 19 years. Wish I’d gotten a better photo of the “before,” but here are a a few Johnny-come-lately shots.

Prompt words today are outdoors, homecoming, sunny, trounce and text.

McDonald Duck and Friends


McDonald Duck and Friends

I know a certain Donald— a king of pass the buck
who to leadership is much less suited than that duck
with whom he shares a name but whose smarts and application
far exceed the POTUS who prefers a golf vacation
to tending to affairs of state except to prompt aggression,
medical misinformation, racism, secession
in order to create a place where he would be the King
relieving congress and the courts from every single thing.

He’d sit up in his tower once the senate had resigned,
ruling at his leisure far above the daily grind,
digressing into fun and games—a golf game, maybe two,
stopping in for French fries and big Macs with extra goo.
He’d sit upon his golden thrown waiting for his bribes
to be delivered daily from his well-heeled tribes.
Courts would not be needed, for guns would rule the day,
trading in extortion in lieu of legal pay.

Let the country go to hell so long as billionaires
go on stockpiling more cash to soothe away their cares.


Word prompts today are leadership, resign, duck, digress and application. photo by Amir Abbas Abdolali on  Unsplash. Used with permission.

Thinking Cap

Thinking Cap
What transpires in a brain in just a single minute
would astound us if we listed everything that’s in it.
What miracle surpasses it? Its creative motion
distills possibility from every single notion.

Our thoughts spiral outward into the universe.
From the wheel to a moon landing, back to a Gucci purse.
From minute to universal, from profound to superficial,
from a child’s imaginings to great schemes more official,

The very thought that thought exists chills me to the bone.
Of all nature’s created, the human brain alone
is a miracle most magical. In fact and art and myth it
defines every one of us by what we may do with it.

Prompt words today are notion, spiral, surpass, transpire and minute.

Floral Retribution


Floral Retribution 

I slink into the plant place and snag a tub of roses—
the kind that is an irritant to weepy eyes and noses.
I could have sent her chocolates, could have brought her fruit,
magazines or houseplants or other sick-room loot;
but she’s such a social-climber, such a diamond Deb
that she won’t even socialize with old friends on the Web.

She has her chi-chi social circle—stylish, rich and arty,
so cannot bother to attend her best friend’s birthday party.
Yet when she breaks her leg and is in need of a diversion,
her new friends stay away as though they have a mass aversion
to hospitals and folks who do not share complete perfection.
In short, her newest “besties” stage the ultimate defection.

And thus it is her old friends that she calls to cheer her day,
forgetting that she is the one who threw us all away.
So when I come into her room and hear her cough and wheeze,
I’ll just withdraw with card and gift and my apologies.
She needs no further problems added to her maladies.
It’s been so long that I forgot about her allergies!

Prompt Words for today are snag, tub, rose, slink and fruit.

Grandma’s Fond Farewell


Photo thanks to Matthew T. Rader on Unsplash, used with permission

Grandma’s Fond Farewell

Your gossamer lies are a shortcut to hell.
I can see right through them, I know you so well.
You’re strung out on acid or some new equivalent.
After so much of this, I’ve grown ambivalent.

As you heft up your back pack to strap to your bike,
I’m relieved that you’re finally taking a hike.
The fact that you’re storming out suits me just fine.
Let your dad deal with his son like I dealt with mine!!!

Word prompts today are: gossamer, shortcut, acid, heft and equivalent.



She met him at the harvest dance.
An act of fate, they met by chance.
The very first grown man she kissed,
he was a traveling journalist,
and she had barely got love’s gist
when he vanished in the mist.
For reference, she had not any.
She had not made love with many
and those she’d had were only boys,
as unacquainted with the joys
of mature love as she had been,
for they were only kids, not men.

She found it tedious at best
to spoon with any of the rest,
and yet she tried, and kept a list
in which she rated and she dissed
those teenage lovers that were left
once journalism left her bereft
of seasoned lover who had pleased her
whereas all the rest just squeezed her
wrong, somehow. They smacked and cuddled,
yet, somehow, they all just muddled
what she’d had occasion once, perchance,
to experience at the harvest dance.

She finally devised a plot
wherein she could improve her lot.
She’d do a deed of much renown
to draw her lover back to town.
And this is why she planned the prank
wherein she would rob the bank.
Of course she’d send the money back.
The larcenous gene she seemed to lack,
but this would create so much news
that she was fairly sure he’d choose
to come investigate the crime,
and that would be the perfect time
to improve her skills of woo.
He’d be her prey and she’d count coup.

For a week, her schemes just perked.
She watched and waited, planned and lurked

watching for the perfect time 
to enact her lovelorn crime.
And, finally, the time seemed good.

She donned a long-armed cloak with hood,
took her daddy’s gun and, masked,
said “Stick ’em up” when she was asked
if she was seeking to deposit,
distressing her, it seems, because it
seemed to  cause so little pause,
from the teller, perhaps because

the teller, who was also masked,
gave her a sucker before she asked
what transaction she might mean
to request on this Halloween!

And so it was the plot was foiled.
By mistiming, her plans were spoiled.
She abandoned larceny
and resumed her tomfoolery
with the local high school boys
wherein they all discovered joys
by practice to bring that surcease
she’d sought to learn by expertise.


Prompt words for today are journalist, referencetedious, list and pleased.



He’s just a phase in history, but when will this phase end?
The whole world’s breath is being held. When will he round the bend?
As he jogs on in his next race, we wish that it were ended.
Surely as he gains in girth, he must be getting winded!
Yet our domestic maniac goes on planning his crazies.
The world will not be sane again ’til he’s pushing up daisies!


Word prompts for the day are domestic, maniac, history and phase. Image by Visuals on Unsplash. Used with permission.