“all my days”

Written for:  The Twiglets #291 - all my days


I have no need to count
all the days I have had
so far.  All the days
I have left, I prefer
to leave a mystery.


All my days-a life 
in chapters.


all her days blur
little pinpricks stand out
she does not know why


          Looking back, she's amazed at how life turned out.
           Sometimes she ponders and is filled with doubt
                   that this is her life,
                   not a phase of strife
           that will pass, as if it's just a bad bout.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/ 
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Family of Fonts

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #157:  What's Your Type?
(posted by whimsygizmo)

"Shortform poetry is just my type. And in case you haven’t already guessed, today I want you to play with some form of the word type in your piece: typing, typed, typewriter, typography, typist.Archetypal. Type it up in italics, or bold. Regale us about your favorite type of food, or music. Are you a type A personality, or type B? Are you the type who loves to rhyme? Or will you tippity-tap type us something free verse?"


When typing, my favorite font
is Lucinda Grande.  If I choose
to get fancier, I love 
Apple Chancery.  Way back 
to the time of typewriters,
there were no fonts
to choose from, and no
Delete key.  Sadly,
there was also no
choice of color.

https://dversepoets.com/
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Stakeout

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2, Prompt #398 - Sails for Sale
Write a sail (or sale) poem.


Her stakeout was Macy's Franchise.
With eyes like a hawk, she checked tags
for when clothes she liked dropped in price.
Her stakeout was Macy's Franchise.
She waited for sale merchandise,
three markdowns gave her the green flag.
Her stakeout was Macy's Franchise.
With eyes like a hawk, she checked tags.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Power of the Sky

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #564

Words:  sparks, sprouting, empty, breathe, sketch, damp, orbit,
        swirl, sisters, stars, art, shadows


Empty soil, parched,
unable to breathe.
The earth swirled
in shadows and dust.
Two sorrowful sisters
prayed for rain. They
had sketched out their
garden artfully, hoping
to have fresh vegetables
for Fall and Winter.
The spark had gone out
of their eyes.  Orbiting  

stars shed silver tears,
the clear skies clouded,
bursting open with rain.
By dawn, the earth was
dark chocolate–damp
and fertile.  The sisters
came outside. Their
astonished faces mirrored
those of their neighbors.
Sprouts were shooting up
like rockets.  It was 
a mysterious, happy
harvest for all.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
  
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Love, Intensely

Written for:  Sunday Muse #222

They complain.  I do not look
at the audience much
during a performance.  They
do not feel what I do
when my face touches
the smooth, worn wood
of this magical instrument.
When my hand guides
the bow, I am making 
love to sounds that my
soul produces.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Posted in Purple's Home | 22 Comments

After Surgery

Written for:  Go Dog Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt
(posted by Devereaux and Beth)

"Write a poem using the words might and recovery."


Her recovery
might have gone 
smoothly, if
he had stopped
nagging her
to come home –
selfish reasons
the motive.

https://godoggocafe.com/2022/08/02/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-august-2-2022/
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“ice crushed snow”

Written for:  The Twiglets #290 - ice crushed snow


You must be speaking
of a Sno-cone!


When ice crushes snow
it's the best time 
to make snowballs,
so firm when you throw.


crunching underfoot
she hears sound in still night
ice covered snow


        Joe loved to roll down hills of fresh snow
         He needed no sled, loved free-fall flow
               One night in twilight
            with hill sparkling white,
  Joe's roll stopped when stung by ice shards lurking below.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/

  
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Sensations at the Shore

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #397 - Teeming Shore

"We celebrate summer with a trek to the beach. The shore beckons us to write a poem on its inspiration. As always, branch out in any direction as you shore up your verse. Write the sights, sounds, smells of the shore. A sunset appeals, as does a sunrise, sea gulls and swarms of swimmers … take the plunge and write it!"


Scents of salt and seaweed greet you
soon as your bare feet touch soft sand.
Sea breeze tickles skin as you stand
at lacy hem of aqua blue.

Bravely you dip a toe or two
waiting for roll of wave as planned.
Scents of salt and seaweed greet you
soon as your bare feet touch soft sand.

Hear seagulls screech their cackling tune
and peck at sand near bodies tanned.
In the distance your hear a band
on the boardwalk.  It must be noon.
Scents of salt and seaweed greet you.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/2022/07/31/prompt-397-teeming-shore/#comments

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The House of Sacred Powers

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #563

Words:  spirits, sideways, ache, owl, heavy, sacred, covers,
        feast, hollow, lit, power, crack


Albescent spirits float
sideways.  A heavy hollowness
covers The House of Sacred 
Powers.  Owl keeps watch
through the night as he
prepares his dinner feast.
Secluded in woods, the house
is mysteriously lit each
night.  It is said, when
thunder blasts, and lightning
cracks the night sky, moans
of aching souls can be heard,
unable to pass through
to the other side.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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A Trip to Recharge

Written for:  Sunday Muse #221 - Images from old movies

"I find movies fascinating, and they always inspire me to want to write a story for the big screen someday.  That being said, I am not saying you have to write a story. You can write anything your heart desires; poetry, prose, story poem, and the list goes on…."

Under the Tuscan Sun
Convinced their friend, Molly, needed a trip
to move her along, back into life,
two friends decided to chip
in, and buy a ticket to ease her strife.

Three women traveled first-class to Rome.
None had ever been out of the country.
All were welcomed, made to feel at home.
They toured, fascinated with Rome's history.

Color crept up to Molly's face
as they gasped at art in the Vatican.
English was spoken in most places,
leaving travelers abashed for lack of Italian.

One night they visited Trevi Fountain,
cameras clutched in all tourist's hands.
Molly tossed her coin, and said, 'It's certain.
I will return to this wonder-land.'

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/


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Card Creations

Written for:  Friday Writings #37:  Stay Happy and Alive

Write a poem inspired by:
   "I think, to stay creative is to stay happy and alive."
                                           ~dsnake~


I 
find
joy in
creating
cards for family 
and friends, humorous, containing
their traits, likes, and dislikes, smiling from start to finish.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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Loopies

Written for:  dVerse Poetry Pub - Poetry Form:  Loop Poetry
(posted by Grace)

"Loop Poetry is a poetry form created by Hellon. There are no restrictions on the number of stanzas nor on the syllable count for each line. In each stanza, the last word of the first line becomes the first word of line two, last word of line 2 becomes the first word of line 3, last word of line 3 becomes the first word of line 4. This is followed for each stanza. The rhyme scheme is abcb."


In front of my house stands a Sycamore tree
Tree-lined streets provide shade
Shades of Autumn are pleasing
Pleasing me always–my dogs' charades

How I long to be at the ocean
Ocean tides move me to peace
Peace is desperately needed on earth
Earth must halt destruction or cease

https://dversepoets.com/
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Children’s Theater

Written for:  Go Dog Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt
(posted by Devereaux and Beth)

"Todays prompt: Write a poem using the words theater, children, and perspective"


A theater for children
became her pet project.
Being blessed with
the imagination
of a child, she had
a clear perspective
of the types of plays
children would like
to take part in or
simply watch as audience.

https://godoggocafe.com/2022/07/26/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-july-26-2022/
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

“lightning colors”

Written for:  The Twiglets #289 - lightning colors


Zig-zag from stark
white to streaks of
purple electric
splitting the sky.


Dog's eyes become
widened white orbs,
ears at attention
when lightning flashes 
and thunder booms.


her face gleams gold
as she stares up at the sky
colored by lightning


      He had an idea for their ceiling
    where old yellowed paint was peeling.
       Painted bolts of lightning
       his wife found frightening.
She painted white streak, bandaid for ceiling's healing.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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Despite All Odds

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #396 - Choose Life

"The greatest gift any of us have ever received is of course, this life we live. It is all we are and ever will be. It may not always be easy, but we work at it and make it work as best we can. In all things, we should choose life!

This is the life. It’s a wonderful life. Life is worth living … you’ve heard many turns of phrase concerning life. Find one and be inspired. Give your words the breath they deserve. Choose life! Write a Life poem."


At times in life my mind motored toward death
with feelings of hopelessness fueling the flame.
Wondered how it would be to take a last breath,
except how would I know if I'd reached my aim?

It puzzles me how a young teenage girl
had no sense of self or perception of worth–
like a blank page waiting, corner unfurled
for another's words to pen the verse.

I loathed my dependent self for years,
that pressing need for someone at my side.
Losses in life spawned paroxysms of tears.
Now, in old age, I must be my own guide.

I aspire to find some joy in each day,
moment by moment keeping future at bay.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/


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Broken Beauty

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #562

Words:  immersed, ghost, drama, line, radiant, reflective,
        stone, idol, taste, meander, bundle, flickering


Pale, flickering sunlight
reflected on the stone,
once idolized as a dramatic
piece of art, now a broken
ghost of itself.  Bundled
in ragged winter jackets,
vandals did not find 
the stone to their taste.
They broke a radiant
line that meandered
through the center.  
Immersed in their hatred
of beauty, they destroyed it.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/ 
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What Remained

Written for:  Sunday Muse #220


As destruction reared
its monstrous face, he
grabbed the only thing
left that mattered,
all the letters 
they had exchanged.
Had there been even
moments to spare,
he would have taken
the wooden box
where the letters
were stored.  Scents
of lavender and vanilla
clung to the inside.
He was glad she did
not live to experience
this devastation.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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“sunset in a cup”

Written for:  The Twiglets #288 - sunset in a cup


Into my cupped hands
indigo and rose nestled.


If I could drink
a cup of sunset
it would taste
like rainbow sherbet.


she studies her hands
sprinkled with vibrant colors
as the sun sets


           She marvels at every sunrise,
       for him, sunsets are where beauty lies.
             Morning person is she,
         twilight time brings him glee
        Afternoons serve as a compromise.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
 
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When Hope Begins to Sink

Written for:  Friday Writings #35 - Hope

"Think about hope and what the word brings up for you."


If you dare to dream
you must have hope.
I find myself trying
to stifle dreams
because I feel 
they are no longer
possible.  This tells
me that I am without
hope.  That scares me.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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Varied Places Called Home

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #395 - Going Home

"Today’s prompt takes us to our comfort zone – home. Write about home past or present – yours or someone else’s. There’s home plate, home base, home run… anything home will do."


Brooklyn, the cradle
that rocked me as
I grew.  For years,
the only place I knew
to call home.

Later, I traveled,
mostly within
the States, and one
trip to Italy
I will never forget.

While it is true
that our country
is divided, and much
healing is needed,
I think about, 
and watch news
from Ukraine.  Whole
country of people
who only want peace
in which to enjoy
their home.  How I hope
they will return
to their land
and rebuild
from the ashes.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
Posted in Purple's Home | 2 Comments

Nature’s Harmony

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #561

Words:  birds, hum, spirits, growl, trickling, glum, three,
        pray, willowy, run, myths, bones, lost


Three birds hum
in shadow of
willow tree.
They lift spirits
of the glum, 
and the lost.  
They soften growls 
of nearby animals
running past a
trickling stream 
where myths are 
born of wisps 
of hair, and sun-
bleached bones.
Here, Buddha prays.
Ethereal masterpiece
of sound–three birds
humming.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Eternal Flame

Written for:  Sunday Muse #219 - "Themeless in Seattle"

I see this candle
lit for Bev, an eternal
flame of love.  Rain
slides sadly down
the glass pane
for a woman 
who brought delight
into our lives.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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Every Now and Then

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics: Breakfast at Tiffany’s
(posted by Linda Lee Lyberg)


Nostalgia creeps in
every now and then.
I recall with fondness, 
my growing up home–a housing 
project in Brooklyn.  Look at it
now.  Instead of towering 
over me, it appears that
the school and all the
buildings have shrunk
in my absence.  Because
I grew up there, I rosy
it up as an ideal place.
At this juncture of my
life, all I feel 
is strife.  Nostalgia
can be a wonderful
diversion.

"I am always drawn back to places where
I have lived, the houses and their
neighborhoods."  ~Truman Capote
from Breakfast At Tiffany's

https://dversepoets.com/2022/07/12/poetics-breakfast-at-tiffanys/
  
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“we’re cloudless

Written for:  The Twiglets - we're cloudless


A cloudless sky
is unappreciated
on a steamy afternoon.


Parched and praying
for rain, people
focused on the
endless blue sky.


sunflowers basked
faces upturned to sun
on this cloudless day


            I thought you said it was sunny,
             we're you trying to be funny?
               I stepped out in a burst
              of hard rain and I cursed
            at my lack of umbrella–poor me.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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Myrna Celebrates Herself

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #155 
Let's Celebrate  (posted by Merril)

"Hello dVerse Poets! It’s Merril welcoming you back to our poetic pub after the break. We’re going to jump right in with a celebratory Q."

Today—and this week–we’re going to celebrate the 11th anniversary of dVerse. Grace says, “the announcement of the new poetry community was made on July 11, 2011. We officially opened on July 19 with an OpenLinkNight.”


My cousin turned
sixty-five.  She threw
herself a party.
We gathered 
outdoors.  Celebratory 
balloons danced in a late
August breeze.  I gave her
a book, ‘When I Am Older
I Shall Wear Purple’.  Now
I’m old, she’s gone,
and I write in purple.

https://dversepoets.com/2022/07/11/quadrille-155-lets-celebrate/
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Dreams of a Wannabe Singer

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #394 I'm With the Band

"We all have music in us! In some respects, we are our own best instrument. Maybe you play one well or not so much, or maybe you’d like to play one. Either way, you’re with the band. Here’s your chance for a solo! Even if you only sing. Write your instrument and fill our hearts with your music." 


Never wanted to say
'I'm with the band'.
No.  I desired to be
the fired-up singer
with a voice 
that stimulated emotion
from soothing, to 
heartbeats of rocking
joy, to tears of
recognition.  Alas,
cannot sing a note.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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The Incompetent Stalker

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #560

Words:  sigh, library, flickering, line, magic, monsoon,
        stalk, hunch, cruel, disguise, impulse, thud


He did not mean
any harm, but knew
he was devoid
of charm.  On
impulse, he donned
a disguise.  Waited
for flickering lights
in the library where
she worked to go out.
She exited.  Not a
cruel sort, his
intention was not
to stalk her.  Yet,
he found himself
following her for
three magical nights.
On the fourth, thud!
He dropped his backpack,
sighed.  She swung
around, mouth set 
in an angry line.  
A monsoon of vitriol
erupted.  Seems she
had a hunch she was
being followed.  Lights
appeared in nearby
windows.  He apologized.
She punched him.  He ran.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Animal Thoughts

Written for:  Sunday Muse #218

I have my eye
on you.  My
golden iris
looks into
your heart.

Can't wait to get home!
Can't wait to get home!
My mom is gonna be
so surprised when she 
sees the gift I found
for her.
Ach, it's tough
getting old.  I
remember my dog
days of swimming
across the lake.
Now I have to paddle
to keep my head
above water.
Maybe camping out
was not my brightest
idea.  Brought my
special blankie,
and bright lantern.
I hope it guides
you to me.  It's cold.
Haven't mastered the art
of hide-'n-seek.  I peek.
Of course, this chair
with its spaces is not
the best place to hide.
Dog is rolling on the 
floor laughing at me–big
oaf.  Uh oh, they've
spotted my beach glass
green eyes.  I'm a goner.
I am a kitten,
smitten with this
piano.  The keys
are the perfect
hardness to teethe on.




Photograph by Andrew Martilla
I know I'm a 
good looking 
cat, but enough
with the pictures.
They didn't want
anyone to see
this one, so I am
only showing it
to you.  Notice
how astute I am
at getting my eyes
all screwy, and tongue
to loll out to
the side.  Phooey
on photos.




No cat on a
hot tin roof
am I.  What a
view!  'Course
the photographer
manipulated this
photo.  All the
buildings are short,
and made of Leggos.
As far as gags go,
this one's a doozy.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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Change Coming ‘Round

Written for:  Friday Writings #34: Unsavory Topics

"Create poetry or prose which includes one or all of the words:"

               freedom, choice, belief


thought she had freedom
regarding her own body–
that was her firm belief


https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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“twist of emotion”

Written for:  The Twiglets #286 - twist of emotion


She strode 
to their spot,
heart happy, eager
to see him.  
She trudged off, 
stomach churning.  
He ended it.


His expression 
unchanged for
years, suddenly
twisted into 
a smile.  Music
recalled.

mewing kitten
stuck in drain pipe, terrified
purrs, licks rescuers


                  Given a power potion
             to perk up his depressed emotions,
             he drank more than prescribed,
                and proceded to glide
        on frozen pond, sans skates, causing commotion.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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Never Meant To

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #398
I Meant To Do That

"Sometimes presumed errors or perceived wrong decisions surprisingly work to our advantage. We cover our tracks by proclaiming, ”I meant to do that!”

But was it something you were meant to do? What was it that you were meant to do, or would have liked to have done?

Turn your self-search into a poem and let us know where it might have taken you."

                       take back anguish
                       never meant to be tough to raise
                       my parents suffered

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/

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Seeds of Promise

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #559

Words:  tangle, stream, branches, reprieve, bleed, clouds,
        seeds, breeze, sway, boon, teeth, climb


Branches in my head
were once seeds
of promise–my baby
teeth.  Now they bleed
and tangle, no place
to climb.  Offer me
a reprieve–swaying
breeze, clear stream,
or a boon of puffy 
animal clouds.  
Please.

https://purplepeninportland.com/2022/07/03/my-mountain/  
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My Mountain

Written for:  Sunday Muse #217

On this mountain,
magical moments
take place.  No one
else knows about
this space.  Just me.
One night I was able
to swim across  
the night sky. Didn't
tell anyone.  Tonight
the moon is full
of smiles.  I am
catching moonbeams
on my magical mountain.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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Scope of Dreams

Written for:  Friday Writings #33:  Daring to Dream

"Hello, dear wordsmiths. What are your dreams, in these – er – interesting times? Are they big or small, personal or planetary? All of the above?"

"What does my cat dream of, I wonder, when she makes little noises in her sleep, or her paws twitch? Are her dreams large or small to her?"

"If you'd like a prompt this week, please respond, in any way that takes your fancy, to the phrase 'Dream big'."


Dare I dream 
of beach vacations,
cooling in sea salt spray
or visiting friends
I yearn to see–
an overdue elation.

Smaller dreams
are simpler to imagine
as my life has changed
in unexpected ways.
Big dreams are re-examined.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/


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Downward Slope Without Skis

Written for:  Go Dog Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt
(posted by Devereaux and Beth)

"Write a poem using the words, 'life, freedom, rights, regression'."


To have freedoms
in your life,
you must have
rights to those
freedoms.  When
rights that have 
been hard-won
are taken away
from you, and threats
of further limitations
are on the horizon,
you find yourself
in a regression–
*slip-slidin' away.

*Paul Simon

https://godoggocafe.com/
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“uneven time”

Written for:  The Twiglets #285 - uneven time


He likes to eat dinner at six–
says it's an even time.


The horse ran
at an uneven pace
losing time.  
He lost the race.


tugs at her braids
sitting in the classroom
mom never gets them even


         Said the little girl, this is unfair,
          the sun in my eyes caused a glare.
            Her teammate said, too bad,
            you really should have had
       sunglasses on like me.  I was prepared.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/

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Grace

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #392, In Defense of Trees

"Your poems this week will be tree-centric. Write about a specific tree. A tree from your youth. There’s pastries, pantries, poetry, carpentry … any tree will do."


Gracing a corner,
limbs spreading
like ballerinas
every Spring. I'd pass 
by this tree each
day, when I lived in 
Portland, Oregon.  
I could not take enough 
photos.  Cherry blossoms 
hung heavy as Christmas
balls.  Soon, as petals
skirted the ground, I knew
it would not be long 
until seasons changed 
once again.  But,
there was always
next Spring to dream
about.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Woman

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #558

Words:  plant, blood, slice, love, womb, screams, downstream,
        flesh, rose, eggs, pins, burns


Planting his feet
firmly, he tries
to pin her down,
make a decision.  She
wants to scream.  It is
a slice-of-life surprise,
but she must rise, 
handle the situation. 
She walks on eggs,
trying to think,
trying to placate
him.  Sensation of
falling swiftly down
-stream, fighting 
to turn herself around.
Ideally, this would be
unconditional love,
not obligation.  Her
flesh burns.  There is
no blood.  This is her
body, her womb, her
choice.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
     
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A Clearing in the Woods

Written for:  Sunday Muse #216

An overgrown clearing 
in lush forest once rang
with sounds of children's
laughter as they chased
each other across 
the grounds.  A table 
laden with food and drink,
a centered candelabra 
with partially melted
candles, and a sweater
thrown haphazardly 
on back of chair.  Where
are the people who dined
here?  What made them 
disappear in haste?
The desolate sadness
of weeds rising up
will eventually cover,
and occlude all
that remains.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
















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Something To Hold

Written for:  Friday Writings #32:  The Right Song at the Right Time

"For those of you who want a prompt to work with, I suggest taking a line from a song that moves you on some level and using that to inspire your words (please do mention which song was the inspiration in your post)."


*Just give me one thing
That I can hold on to
To believe in this livin'
Is just a hard way to go
To believe in this livin'
Is just a hard way to go



When you feel
that you can't
go down 
this tough road
any longer,
you need 
something tangible
to hold, 
and believe in–
just one
simple thing
to count on.

*(taken from:  Angel From Montgomery~Bonnie Raitt)

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/







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Variations on Grieving

Written for:  Go Dog Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt
(posted by Devereaux and Beth)

"Begin a poem with "endless".


Endless attempts
to move past grief.
No brief or timely
manner can be
assigned.  There are
types of grief one can
overcome, most involve
simply trying to get
through.  A deep blue
sorrow stays with you–
a punch in the gut,
a knife piercing 
your heart.  And, here
you are, making endless
attempt to move beyond
pain.  You wonder if it
is possible.  You wonder
if it is worth it.

https://godoggocafe.com/
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Summer Begins

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday:  Solstice
(posted by Frank J. Tassone)

Write an original haibun that alludes to the Solstice,
whether Summer or Winter


According to calendar events, today is the first day of Summer.
The meaning of Summer Solstice eludes me, as I find it difficult
to picture the celestial equator.  Nonetheless, I love the sound
of it.  For me, it conjures up secret rites.

We have recently had several stunning days of weather.  Plants
are blooming, herbs are herbing.  Though today is cloudy,
no one promised us sun on the first day of Summer.

             commanding presence
             balances on a fence post
             red-coated cardinal

https://dversepoets.com/2022/06/20/haibun-monday-6-20-22-solstice/
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When Wind Blew Through Earth

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #557

Words:  blackbird, flame, meek, wind, earth, cross, creed,
        time, woman, search, seem, me


Time was, wind blew through
earth like a cross woman
inflamed by scorn.  Blackbirds
searched for new homes,
their creed being safety.
Nature's meek creatures
shuddered, scurried– 
seeking shelter.  Seemed
to me, even the skies
had turned cruel.  Was it
an augury of earth's demise?

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Distance of Blackbirds

Written for:  Sunday Muse #215

Unforgettable memories by SV-Blackart on DeviantArt
Once you meant something
to me.  Now I must let
you go, stop the burning
in my heart.  Start a fire
of my own with all those
possessions of yours
I have kept.  No more.
I am traveling a distance
through a formidable fog 
that attempts to swallow 
the moon.  Led by a flock
of blackbirds, I make
my way.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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Magaly’s Inspiration

Written for:  Friday Writings #31:  Genuine Ink

"For today’s prompt, if you wish to use it, I would like you to write poetry or prose inspired by the following lines: “be genuine / in life and ink / rebel against hypocrisy” (feel free to use the actual words, if you like):"


Be Genuine:  in truth
             in love
             in morals
             in friendships

In Ink:      you have power
             you can state your opinions
             you can laugh or cry, or touch someone else
             you can open your heart

Rebel:       against greed
             against prejudice
             against false news from false prophets
             against other's ideas of beauty
             against any "norm"

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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Losing Yourself








Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - MTB:  Fall Seven Times,
Stand Up Eight -- Guest Host:  Anna Montgomery

"Gnomic poetry is the long lived and loved practice of moralizing in verse. This places gnomic poetry squarely in the wisdom literature tradition. In its initial form, early Greek gnomic poetry was expressed with aphorisms or any saying that encapsulates, in a pithy manner, advice on how to (or how not to) live."

"The choice is yours, but the focal point of your poem must have a moral or assert a philosophical position on life."



Do you know
who you are?
Dependency on
spouse, lover,
or friend undermines
independence.  Without
noticing the subtle
changes, you suddenly
find their beliefs
are yours, their 
opinions are yours.
You become lost.
Do not allow all
those  puzzle pieces
that make up you,
to bend, change, or
disappear, so that
you become someone
else's finished product.
Think.  Look around
Do you know
who you are?
Define yourself.

https://dversepoets.com/
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Storage

Written for:  Go Dog Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt
(posted by Devereaux and Beth)

"Begin a poem with 'detached memory'.


Detach memories
that bring you
pain, that tear
at your guts
in vain.  Store
them in a remote
part of your brain
so that they are not 
at the forefront
filling up all your
space.  Detach.  Make
room.

https://godoggocafe.com/
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“steel sky”

Written for:  The Twiglets #283 - steel sky


standing under
a steel sky
wondering
if night will fall


The sky purpled
into twilight.
I steeled myself.
Would he show up?


plump raindrops fall
pinging pond of fish and frogs
ominous sky of steel


             An alien fell to earth from the sky.
              He was puzzled, and wondered why.
                 This was not his planet,
                    no one wore granite.
    Strange speech, crazed hair, and screaming at his one huge eye.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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Her Spells

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #154
Casting a Poetic Spell  (posted by Sanaa)

"Today, I’d like you to ponder upon the word “Spell.”

"Misspelled, Gospellers, Bespelled, Spellcraft, Spellbinder, Counterspell, Fingerspelling, Dispeller, Spellcheck, Spell-out.

Go ahead, leave no possibility unexplored." 


Oh dear, she sighs,
I fear I am having
one of my spells–
(Code for depression)
Dreary rain-spells
unfailingly send her
dejectedly to bed,
under covers, door
closed, where she
will read a torrid
romance novel until
she spell-shifts
back to herself.

https://dversepoets.com/2022/06/13/quadrille-154-casting-a-poetic-spell/
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Dreams of Men

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #390
"Take a sad song, and make it better" - Beatles, 1973

"Take something that is a downer (song, poem, book title, movie, etc.), and put a hopeful twist on it."

(inspired by Of Mice And Men ~ John Steinbeck)

George vows to take care
of Lennie as the pair moves
from one migrant job to the next.
Twice as rough to earn a living
with the Depression on,
and Lennie's limited mental
capacity.  George focuses
on earning enough to buy
a farm, while Lennie dreams
of tending rabbits.  Though
Lennie possesses great strength,
he loves touching soft things.

On Curley's ranch, his wife
is a temptress. George
stresses the importance 
of keeping away from her
to Lennie.

Unfortunately, bad habits 
do not change, and Curley 
kicks his wife off the ranch.
By then enough money is
pooled together for a
small farm. George, Lennie,
and the ranch hands leave
to live their dreams.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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