Tag Archives: Word of the Day Challenge

2021

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2021

This is a pretty kettle of fish,
a quagmire that we’re caught in.
You only need to take one sniff
to know that something’s rotten.

We thought we’d amble on through life
as lively as we pleased,
but then someone got a fever
and another someone sneezed.

Suddenly, we all slowed down,
imprisoned in our houses,
devoid of underwear
and wearing nightgowns for our blouses.

Watching TV all night long,
avoiding lowlife dives,
reduced to just our families,
we floundered in our lives.

That’s how we came to beg for it,
to scheme and plot and wheedle.
Who thought we’d be so grateful
for the nose swab and the needle?

Prompt words are kettle, quagmire, sniff, amble and lively.

Secondary Research

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Secondary Research

She found tales of chivalry wholly outlandish.
Her dates wore suspenders. No swords did they brandish.
She, in return, was no sexy lithe lynx,
her love-life devoid of any hijinks.

In short, she was prim and her suitors the same,
her romance as mainstream as romances came—
dates for the movies or dinner or trips
to the local tea room for crumpets and sips.

No passionate kisses. No secret elation.
Visual thrills were her sole titillation,
for secretly, she was addicted to porn.
She viewed it at midnight. Sometimes in the morn.

Although she’d never do the things that they did,
it was the single thing that she hid.
Everything else was there to be seen:
decent and wholesome and saintly and clean.

It was her belief that a life meant for viewing
should consist more of thinking of things than of doing,
and so she kept private her secret adventures,
safe from derision and gossip and censures.

As the town’s sole librarian, she was aware
that this was a side of her she’d never dare
to reveal to the world, and yet she pursued it,
knowing that no one else knew that she viewed it.

Like high adventure, such sexual fun
was best viewed from afar, but never done.
When it came to things sensual, sticky and hairy,
she preferred that her research remain secondary.

 

Prompts today are jinx, visual, prim, outlandish and mainstream. Image by Damla Azkan on Unsplash. Used with permission.

Note: While primary research involves active participation from the researcher themselves, secondary research involves the summary or synthesis of data and literature that has been organized and published by others.

Evolution

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Evolution

Evolution’s done with behemoths. They take up too much space.
They were too slow and lumbering—lacking in poise and grace.
For this they paid the penalty of their eradication,
replaced by small creatures who consumed a smaller ration.

The intention was that humans would be weaker and less needy.
Who knew that they would turn into creatures so cruel and greedy?
Anything but genial, they grabbed what they could grab,
bringing devastation via bomb and gun and lab.

If larger didn’t work, it’s clear that smaller did no better.
Once again, nature’s creations have turned out her debtor.
She extracts her interest through flood and hurricane,
drought and deadly plagues and other methods more arcane.

Working up from smaller—from the atom and the quark,
nature reached its summit in Jurassic Park,
then created on a smaller scale ’til it arrived at man—
Homo sapiens her newest failed flash in the pan.

Now, where will she go from here? Tinier or bigger?
Will her next experiment be flyer, swimmer, digger?
Will she rue the excesses of the human brain
Or will she make the same mistake over once again?

Can she find a way at last to alter the machine,
by infusing it, at last, with the human gene?
Is a cyborg race of men the way that nature’s going?
Will mankind be coupled with things whirring, blinking, glowing?

Will we all be halfway clones of who we were before?
Will we think past generations to be the stuff of lore?
Have humans made themselves passé or will they rise once more—
a little less self-serving , less blemished at the core?

Prompt words today are behemoth, space, penalty, genial.

Supine Flu

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Supine Flu

Do you struggle when the alarm goes off every morning? If you have a really hard time, you could have something called dysania. This means you simply can’t get out of bed for about 1 to 2 hours after you wake up.

Doctors have reported an outbreak of dysania.
Folks suffer from the syndrome from Missouri to Albania.
It’s interfering with world markets and sustainability,
and athletes have determined it’s affecting their agility.

Campers seeking all the pristine beauty of the wilderness
report that they are sleeping in and therefore they are hiking less.
Card sharks spend more time at home, bed-bound in their lair
for hours in the morning, playing solitaire.

Moms trying to spark  interest in starting their kids’ days,
are equally lethargic, and prone to merely laze.
When it comes to what to call the curse, science is still vague,
for It seems most of the scientists have come down with the plague.

They put off their experiments and their cogitations
in lieu of morning lollings-about in their habitations.
Coffee shops are suffering and worldwide, gyms are closing
as people give up other morning hangouts for reposing.

The whole world has gone lazy and is given to the lying-in.
So much for morning exercise, conditioning and getting thin.
And although most joggers have ceased morning exploring,
Sealy Posturepedic stocks have been reported soaring!

They’ve tried to conduct seminars from New York to the Hague
to try to solve the puzzle of this early morning ague,
but the lazy attendees have said we’ll have to guess,
for science cannot seem to conquer this new laziness!

They haven’t even named it yet, so in their usual fashion,
world wits have exercised their nomenclature-driven passion.
Since the scientists are sleeping in, they do not have a clue
that the whole world has agreed that they have the Supine Flu.

 

 

Prompt words today are shark, spark, dysania, pristine and sustainability.

Craft Maintenance

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Photo by Simon Goetz on Unsplash, used with permission.

Craft Maintenance

Love is like a speedboat, threatening disaster
as we plummet toward our fate, going ever faster.

In youth, insecurity helps to fuel the pace
as our fear of failure keeps us in the race.

Thus is our pursuit of love fueled by the chase,
but as we proceed in life, this may not be the case.

Our boats fill up with children and the race  soon ceases.
The boards begin to shrink and paint curls off in pieces.

Still, since marriage is a boat we need to keep afloat,
love is our incentive to renovate the boat!

 

Photo by Anne Nygard on Unsplash, used with permission.

Prompt words today are pursuit, renovate, incentive and boat.

Providence

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Providence

The angriest skies contain the germ of the next day’s sun.
No matter what pervades your day, once that day is done,
your prospects for a better day already have been cast,
for the material of our future is gathered from our past.

Clear skies are born from thunder clouds and summer days from mist.
Tomorrow’s field of flowers is held in the tempest’s fist.
You may call me Pollyanna, but I can attest
to the truth that oftentimes the worst is followed by the best.

 

 

 

 

 Prompt words today are clear skies,contain, angry,pervade and material.

Gone Fishing

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Gone Fishing

I brandish my brain and confer with the night,
assiduously, wait for new thoughts to bite.
I go fishing for words that will serve as the bait
as what I am thinking I try to relate.

Floating on dreams, I troll their broad sea.
As I fish in them, I’m fishing in me.
Pulling out words from the seas where they ride
bright flashes of light that bring them topside.

Who knows what deep currents wash shores of insight
unless we cast nets to draw them to light?
In our forgotten midnights, their legions are teeming.
We must troll their dark depths for these riches of dreaming.

The lush waters of night invite interruption.
They do not view our hooks as corruption.
We’re their reason for being. They are food for our thought.
We cast lines in their depths that we may be taught.

Prompt words for today are brandish, confer, assiduous and forgotten. Painting by Isidro Xilonzochitl.

Over Head

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Over Head

Lying in the hammock, searching for my words,
I come up with nothing, so I consult the birds.
They lift up off my trees to circle in a ring
as though they’re reconnoitering every single thing.

Swooping to partake of swirling clouds of  gnats,
eying all my fruit trees, teasing both the cats,
who, crouched up on the roof, dream culinary wishes—
far above their heads, those tiny feathered fishes

far out of their reach, but so mesmerizing that 
they far exceed temptation of squirrel or of rat.
Cats find bird movements insolent, drifting high up there.
Such an outrê thing to do, floating in the air!

Prompt words today are consult, insolent, outré and reconnoiter.

Containment

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Containment

Flitting here and flitting there,
sometimes just in my underwear,
unsmitten by the winter weather,
rarely am I aware whether
there is sun or snow or rain
outside the walls of my domain,
the fervor of the climate being
something far beyond my seeing.

The phrase that March is coming in
like a lion? Beyond my ken.
They’re merely lyrics in a song.
I’ve been a shut-in for so long
that weather doesn’t apply to me.
For one year, I’ve been climate-free,
nestled here, cat on my knee
in front of laptop or T.V.

Two thousand twenty and twenty-one
have addicted me to other fun
than outside social interactions.
I have narrowed my reactions
to the confines of four walls.
No homes of friends, cafes or malls.
It’s been a year since forced to choose
any other type of shoes
than flip-flops or my Birkenstocks.
Or since I donned a pair of socks.

Have styles changed, or is the blouse
purchased before banned to my house
still in vogue? How would I know?
Where does anybody go 
that it is possible to share it?
There’s nowhere left for me to wear it!
My social life is now in traction,
suffering from under-action.

No pub-crawls, dining out or dancing.
No hobnobbing and no romancing.
No skiing and no beach vacation.
Simply solo relaxation!
We suffer lives of self-containment.
No other trips or entertainment.
The whole world sharing one elation—
the prospects of a vaccination!

Prompt words today are flit, smitten, phrase and fervor.

A Little Tip

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A Little Tip

Although I’m a big tipper, no gratificación
will be awaiting waiters who linger on the phone
and let my soup or burger get cold up on the shelf.
I’ll send my food back to the chef and spend your tip myself!

I’ve declared a moratorium on mandatory tips.
My money will not cross your palm if cold food meets my lips.
If you’re somewhere slumbering and my drink is late,
will it affect the money left beneath my plate?

You can bet your lazy ass it will. So get your butt in gear
before my lips get parched and dry from waiting for a beer.
If my bread basket is meager and the bread is old and dry,
I’ll save your 25 percent for another guy.

I’ll give it as a baksheesh for some kid that I pass
who hasn’t done a thing for me—just like your sorry ass.
Lagging in your service won’t win a lagniappe.
Lollygagging will not put a feather in your cap.

So if you seek a tip from me, attention will be fateful.
I only give gratuities for service when I’m grateful!

 

Word prompts today are slumber, moratorium, meager and lagniappe. Photo downloaded from Unsplash with permission.