Tag Archives: your daily word

Well-Spoken


Well-Spoken

Grandmother was a lexophile, erudite and bossy.
She said that I was malapert when she meant I was saucy.
She sat astride her horse for she was loath to simply straddle it,
and she “installed her pillion.” She didn’t merely saddle it!

Every sentence that we spoke required mediation.
Nothing was radioactive. It “emitted radiation!”
Cannibals weren’t maneaters, but rather “anthropophages,”
and prom dates brought us sprays of roses, not merely corsages!

Her mania for polite words was nothing less than ludicrous.
When dealing with the birds and bees, “womb” subbed for the word uterus.
Gentlemen had “members,” for their penises were banished—
“boobs” and “knockers” terms for bosoms that somehow had vanished.

It seems she put small value in words that spoke directly,
for it was more important that we chose words correctly.
Dictionaries were her Bibles, and they had the final word
when we used terminology that Grandma found absurd.

 

Prompt words for the day are straddle, radioactive, ludicrous, contumely and maneater.

Cooked Goose

Cooked Goose

As I face her contumely with stoic restraint,
I may seem cavalier, but really I ain’t.

I’ve grown used to her holiday gloom and depressions
when she is exposed to these family sessions.

After so many years, I’m attuned to the drill,
though I must admit that I’ve had my fill
of her bigoted grandpa, her silly vain mom,
her brother whose jokes are always a bomb.

Her sister who views our clothes with derision,
the grandmother who cannot reach a decision
on what kind of pie—pumpkin, chocolate or peach?
So she always ends up with a little of each.

Her nieces and nephews all stupid and spoiled,
and the Christmas goose that always tastes boiled.
Why do we attend each new family blast
when we always go home feeling slightly aghast?

I must say their whole group has failed at the game,
for a family should be far more than a name.
We swear every holiday will be our last,
but I fear nonetheless that our lot has been cast.

We’ll continue to dread every Christmas and Easter—
every occasion to become a feaster
on gummy plum pudding and cold slimy fowl,
for though we curse and  grumble  and growl,

for birthdays and weddings, we’ll load up the car
and drive those long miles to come from afar
repeating this ritual year after year,
for this is the family that we hold dear!

 

 

Prompt words are holiday, cavalier, stoic, contumely and passage. Fiction, folks, fiction. Written from the point of view of a long-suffering male spouse. My husband did not feel this way about my family, really.

Tomboy

Tomboy

She ate all her spinach, devoured all her kale.
She lifted weights and cussed and spit, and still she wasn’t male.
She wanted to be Popeye, but instead was Olive Oyl.
Nothing that she ever did made her less a goil.

She wished on every rainbow, unequivocally,
did her affirmations and squeezed her rosary,
praying for delivery from this female form.
Because she had three brothers, she felt it not the norm.

But when she reached her teenage years, something slowly changed.
Somehow she felt more normal and slightly less deranged.
And though it took a little time, finally she did confess
shyly, to her mother, that she’d like to buy a dress.

She put her hair in curlers and scrubbed her scaly knees,
spent more time upon the phone and less time climbing trees.
Flirted with her brothers’ friends whom formerly she wrestled.
Wound up at the movies, very comfortably nestled

up against the shoulder of a guy named Paul
and found that somehow she felt great. She didn’t mind at all
that she had not been born a boy, because then she’d have missed
that feeling that she felt the very first time she was kissed.

Prompt words today are indeed, equivocal, female, rainbow and squeeze.

Charles Ponzi in Hell

Charles Ponzi in Hell

He is a shrouded shyster, an adjunct to the Devil—
a ghostly apparition not remotely on the level.
He peddled false indulgences and cut-rate lots in heaven
on a sliding scale from heaven one right up to seven.

He was as suave as men can get clad in just a sheet,
with no face to speak of, not to mention sans his feet.
And though his sins were constant, every day a new adventure,
thanks to the realm he dwelled in, his pranks came without censure.

 

Prompt words today are thanks, suave, apparition, adjunct and devil. Image by Erin Minuskin on Unsplash.

Up in Lights

Up in Lights

She was an excellent waitress at Barney’s Bar and Grill—
cheerful in her service and accomplished at the till.
He saw her as he entered and admired her from afar,
then engaged her with his banter and said she’d be a star.

She aspired to the movies and so she was fair game.
She said that she’d do anything to try to get her name
up there on the billboards above the picture show,
so he taught her how to dress and act and told her where to go.

She was a fervent vessel, ready to be filled—
a pliant mound of clay for him to form and knead and build.
Taking that mere girl that he’d found in Barney’s diner,
he forged her rough exterior into something finer.

He knew just how to mold her—to polish and embellish
to make her into something that Hollywood would relish.
Now her name is on the Marquee for all the world to see,
And he gets ten percent of her top star salary!

 

Prompt words today are vessel, fervent, grill, forge and movie.
Image by Samuel Regan on Unsplash.

Expired Lothario


Expired Lothario

A veritable heart-swoon in those days that he was young,
handsome, dashing, fleet-of-foot and, rumor says, well-hung,
these days when he ogles, it’s sorta through a mist.
It’s been so many years now since he has been kissed.

Just at the point when long ago he might have been gripping,
it seems as though these days it is more likely he’ll be tripping.
Whereas once he wooed at leisure, his romancing days are done.
His smoking pistol hasn’t fired for years. (Pardon the pun.)

 

Prompt words for today are mist, ogle, gripping, veritable and leisure.

Veiled Mercy


Veiled Mercy

Home after a summer hike, a picnic and a swim,
while taking off your sun hat and dusting off its brim,

you find a tiny spider who has caught a ride—
one who would be better off if he’d remained outside.
Of course you cause a fracas, so upset I cannot quash it,

demanding that we find the harmless bug and promptly squash it.
When I respond with reason, saying it’s benign,
as usual you discount any argument that’s mine.
You won’t be contradicted, insisting out of spite
that the tiny hitchhiker is bound to take a bite.

Handing me a tissue, you demand I do the deed
before the evil insect has the chance to breed.
But, tired of your edicts, I even up the score.
I gently swathe it in the Kleenex and toss it out the door.

 

Prompt words for today are seal, quash, spider, fracas and swim.

Within

]

Within

External episodes are thrilling
but may not be half so chilling
as other splendors that reside
within ourselves—so deep inside
that they may be unmapable
because they are not palpable
to anyone except ourselves.
They’re mysteries that science delves
by means of psychotherapy.
They seek the treasures that may be
hidden in us, but so deep
we think they’re secrets that we keep.
It’s where we go in poetry—
exploring places we can’t see
unless we voice them lingually.

Prompt words are splendour, episode, chilling, palpable and external.

 

Mr. Know and Do-It-All

Mr. Know and Do-It-All

When it comes to puzzles, I solve every one.
It’s just a small part of my regular fun.
I can do cryptic, obscure if you wish.
Give me a recipe, I’ll cook the dish.
My stew is nutritious, delicious and stirrable
No job you give will I find insuperable.

Difficult tasks are why I exist.
Tell an obscure joke. I’ll discover the gist.
Problems excite me. Mysteries make me shiver.
I’m the proverbial solution giver.
What is impossible pushes my button.
Give me a live sheep and I’ll give you mutton.

Since I’ve gotten older, I’ve barely slowed down.
My feats are historic all over this town.
I am the one that unlocks keyless doors.
I’ve driven off bandits and outbored known bores.
Once you push my button, I’ll go ’til I’m done.
for I’m the proverbial “call upon” one!

Prompt words are cryptic, historic, shiver, insuperable and button.

A Wild Redemption


A Wild Redemption

Sick of this world,
I take a morning walk
up a nearby mountain trail I’ve long neglected.

As I trudge the uphill path,
I wave good-bye to those figments of reality
that are but squatters in my brain—
invasive memories
that by their constant presence
have proclaimed themselves to be
the intrinsic truths of our world.

I blame the internet
for choosing what we see
and those fools we meet there
whom otherwise
we’d never have occasion to listen to.

The path is rough
with dirt and grass,
rubbled by rough stones
like uncut gems.

Abandoned sneakers
crown a pile of 
drying palm fronds,
as though they’ve been parted from their legs
much as the palm fronds have been
severed from their trees.

Banks of golden flowers
form walls on

either side,
then give way to

stalks of purple blooms
with saffron tongues
and multi-colored clover.
The white bands of butterflies
striped like zebras
announce their presence in the shade,

and even the litter
is fallen flowers.

In the path lies
the circular mounded artistry of ants

that signals that new and private world
they’ve cleared out for themselves below.

Too soon, and long before I would have turned
to renegotiate a path now sloped downwards,
a closed gate either forgotten
or new since I last passed this way
so many years before,
turns me homewards,
past the abandoned shoes

and fallen trees turning into soil,
past the orange blooms of a tabachine tree,
past stone walls
and cobblestones.
and more contained beauty.

The runoff from last night’s rain
shoots from the drain that pierces a high stone wall.
Mushrooms grow on a woodpile

beneath the bright yellow of a neighbor’s tabachine,
and a split-open pomegranate
from my own tree
forms a happy face, welcoming me home


as my across-the-street neighbor’s
new small dog,
unaccustomed to me,

barks out her protest
of this interloper
who has been newly saved
by the reality
of the wild beauty
of our world
that was here
before we came,

has been here
all along,

and will
remain
after we leave.

This is the more constant truth of the world,
and I return home
to create a reminder of it.


To see photos of the walk, click Here and then click on each photo
to enlarge it and advance to an enlarged view of the rest of the photos. (An abridged version of this poem is given as captions to explain the photos but omits some of the above stanzas.)

Prompt words today are wave, figment, blame, intrinsic and sick.