unclear

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

Write a haiku about being lost, without using "lost".


new growth in forest
lush green in mid-summer light
paths no longer clear

https://godoggocafe.com/

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“up for grabs”

Written for:  The Twiglets #210 - "up for grabs"


What am I bid
for this classic set
of Fiesta ware?


Making a declaration–
I have had enough.  If you
want to date her, 
you have my blessing 
and my pity.


engagement ring
blue diamond, square cut setting
pawnbroker's window


An infamous gold-digger was she,
moved around from county to county.
One day she met her match,
man she thought a great catch,
was detective.  She's in jail, no bail, not free.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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P is for Punctuality

Written for:  One Woman's Quest II
VJ’S WEEKLY CHALLENGE: THE OTHER SIDE

"This week, I am challenging myself to consider the other side. Through creative writing or visualization, to imagine a dialogue with an opposing force. If I am so inspired, I may write from the perspective of other, putting ego-self into the third person.

The key is to allow your imagination free rein. Let the other speak. Don’t worry about whether it makes sense or fits with your ego-perception. Just go with the flow."


You finally made it last night.

Well you know how unorganized I am.  At least we
didn't miss anything.

Glad it wasn't a dinner invitation.  I have learned
not to cook anything until you arrive.

I'm always losing track of time, and personal objects
in the house.  Guess I'm just hopeless.

No, you are not hopeless.  The point is with all
the therapy you've had, you could never reach
the root of this behavior.

Maybe in another ten years.

(Both laughing)

https://onewomansquest.org/2021/01/18/vjs-weekly-challenge-the-other-side/
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Climbing

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2
Prompt #321 - Looking for Direction

"Direction is direction. I’m talking compass direction. Choose one and use that as your inspiration for this week’s poem. It could be a direction away from someplace or toward somewhere. It could be something incorporated into a song or book or movie title. Wherever you want to be, there you go!"


Let us grow upward and tall,
leave the smallness of mind behind.
Let us grow our hearts to fit all,
let us grow upward and tall.
Dry those tears; heed laughter's call.
Into the future, a steep climb.
Let us grow upward and tall,
leave the smallness of mind behind.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Tilted World

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #491

Words:  untethered, speak, plan, future, text, play,
        world, travelers, fresh, divide, hurt, clothes


The untethered world
has tumbling travelers
in tattered clothing
playing with their 
future.  Fresh turns
stale like rock-hard
donuts left uncovered.
When the travelers speak
of division you can feel
their hurt.  It spurts
like blood from every
pore.  The only solution
is come up with a rational
plan.  For now, the travelers
tilt and tumble.


https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Finding Space

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #52:  Something About Mary
(posted by Rosemary)

"One of the things I did in the break was lots and lots of reading. And one of the things I read, cover to cover, was Dream Work by Mary Oliver – many people’s favourite poet, and definitely one of my favourites. I don’t think there could be a Mary Oliver poem I would dislike, just not possible!
 
 "This is one I like especially:"
Prompt:

 I invite you to choose a line or phrase from this poem and use it to inspire a new piece of your own writing.

 You don’t have to use those actual words in your piece, though you certainly may. 



I wonder how much
the heart can hold,
bold as it's beating
may sound.  Sometimes
room seems stretched
to capacity.  May all
the beauty of nature 
be easily accommodated.

(Line I used:  ("if the doors of my heart ever close . . .")

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

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The Audition

Written for:  Sunday Muse #143  (posted by Fireblossom)

"This week you get a choice. We are looking back at old Hollywood and a make-believe world that nevertheless lifts our spirits and touches our hearts. You can write for the image (Tracey Powers as Mary Pickford) or you can go completely off the deep end and use the video I'm providing."

(Tracey Powers as Mary Pickford)
What happened to you? 
Said you'd be right back
with cocktails.  I see
no cocktails in those
claws you seem to have
sprouted.  Your skin
is turning green 
and hairy.  Not another 
step!

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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Worshipping Flower

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub-Meeting The Bar: 
Personification and Imagery  (posted by Grace)

"Personification
 A figure of speech in which the poet describes an abstraction, a thing, or a nonhuman form as if it were a person. When inanimate objects, are given human qualities, this results in a poem full of imagery and description. Example: “The wind moaned, beckoning me to come outside.” In this example, the wind—a nonhuman element—is being described as if it is human (it “moans” and “beckons”)."

"Imagery
 Imagery, in a literary or poetic sense, is the author’s use of description and vivid language, deepening the reader’s understanding of the work, by appealing to the senses.  All imagery is aided through the use of other poetic devices, such as simile, metaphor, personification, onomatopoeia, etc.
 There are different types of imagery. These include:
 Visual imagery which refers to sights and allows the reader to visualise the subject, objects or events in the poem.
 Auditory imagery refers to sounds and reminds the reader of common or specific sounds as a point of reference to deepen understanding.
 Kinaesthetic imagery is related to movement and reminds the reader of body movement or positions that are familiar or imagined – such as the feeling of flying.
 Smells and tastes can be referred to as Olfactory or Gustatory imagery respectively.
 Tactile imagery refers to texture and feeling."


The sunflower winked-
blinked at me with velvet eye.
Breeze blew over large
leaves, prompting the flower
to dance, and bow.  Bonnet
was in disarray.  Some 
petals faced up while 
others flopped over like dog
ears.  As sun strengthened
and wind stilled, the velvet
eye gazed up in worship.

https://dversepoets.com/

 
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Basket Dog

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub, Poetics:  Object Poems
(posted by Mish)

"You may be familiar with “object poems” where an inanimate item is the subject of the poem. These poems can center around an every day object, such as a door, a jar, a spoon or something of sentimental value. The object is often brought to life using vivid, detailed descriptions of it’s physical appearance and functions.

Choose an object from your home or outdoors. Look past the obvious characteristics and uses of this object. Spare us the details. Instead, take us to the connection that it has made with you or what it represents.
 What does this object mean? Is their a sentimental attachment? What memories does it hold? (they might not be good ones). How has it’s existence effected you or your life? Does it signify a certain era, event, relationship or transition? What emotion(s) does the object evoke? Is it a symbol of joy, failure, fear, success, childhood, grief, love….? Is there a story? What is this object (to you!) beyond what we see visually."


This is not a real dog.
Cozied up, sleeping
in a basket.  I touch
the soft fur.  For years,
he sat on my cousin's
couch.  Every visitor
did a double-take,
and petted the dog 
anyway.  He was a source
of comfort to me
when I lived with her
for six weeks during
a traumatic move.  When
my cousin passed away,
we took the little dog
to our new home.  He is
the first thing you see
when you walk in.  That
dog, curled in his basket
is a constant reminder
of my sorely missed cousin.
I still pet him as I walk by.

https://dversepoets.com/
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The Letters

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

"Write about a time where you were betrayed."


Love letters
in a trunk
found by Mom

Discharged dishonorably
lies, lies, lies
too young to be a wife
at eighteen.

https://godoggocafe.com/
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“hung from pegs”

Written for:  The Twiglets #209 - "hung from pegs"


The coat hung askew
on a peg.


Aging yellowed photographs
pegged to a wall


backpack hung by strap
heaviness putting a strain
on the wooden peg


            He was a braggart through and through
              purchased only items brand new
                   A wine was touted
                  He knew all about it
     Guests sipped, deemed it sour; took him down a peg or two.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/

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Pulling on my Soul

Written for: One Woman’s Quest – VJ’s Weekly Challenge
“What Pulls on Your Soul?”



Animals of all kinds
pull at my heartstrings.
Oceans call my name,
as the tides ebb
and flow.  I want to
go and absorb the vastness
with dog prints padding along
-side mine.


https://purplepeninportland.com/2021/01/12/a-variety-of-dabs/(opens in a new tab)
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A Variety of Dabs

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #119
"Dabbling in Poetry"  (posted by whimsygizmo)


I dabbled in scribbling 
 until scribbling became
 writing, writing, writing.
 A dab of perfume
 gives me identity
 in the morning.  Once
 I know who I am,
 what will I write?
 Dabbing pulse points
 with lavender oil, 
 relaxes my body,
 calms my mind
 for sleep.

https://dversepoets.com/

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Chilly Hot Dog

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Writers' Pantry #52 - "The pantry is now open for business. 
"Share your words old and new, fiction or non-fiction, poetry
or prose."  (posted by Rommy) 


Click!  Heat is coming
 on.  One joyful dog’s
 ears rise.  He waddles–
 in true dachshund 
 fashion–over to an old
 soft bathmat, strategically
 placed under a vent.  One
 paw rests on a greyed
 piece of shapeless cloth,
 his old white dog toy
 now flattened into
 submission, squeakers
 gone.  An auburn circle
 of sleeping, snoring
 dog lies contentedly,
 warmed by slots shooting
 hot air.   He is eleven 
 with many medical issues, 
 and I  think . . . wouldn’t 
 it be  nice to bring him 
 a cup of tea.

 https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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The Wedding

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #320
"Branching Out"

"The branch can hold many connotations in nature (tree branch), everyday (bank branch), personal (genealogy – family tree, reaching to achieve).
So this week we ask that you make that stretch and “branch out” into this still fledgling year and begin your new (but rekindled) journey into the poetic process. Write a “branch” poem. Even if you just include the word in a line, you’ve satisfied our prompt!"


Branches of two
distinct family
trees came together.
Whether pleased or
adamantly opposed
to being here, where
a wedding was to take
place, they showed up.
Lacy dresses on the 
bride's side, austere–
though clearly expensive
garb–on the groom's.
Music played, guests
danced.  Everyone loosened
up.  Each side thawed out,
and attempted to make
each other's acquaintance.
Branches of two distinct
family trees went out
on a limb.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/   
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Defiant in Numbers

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #490

Words:  failure, try, proud, craven, fraud, storm, hide,
        treason, branch, right, complicit, sedition


Accused of trying
to hide his failure,
he remained proud 
even when indicted
for treason and fraud.
Others were arrested
for sedition, and for
being complicit in
the storm of demolition.
They were defiant; they
believed they were right–
just an army of craven
beings on the outside
branch of the tree.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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What We See

Written for:  Sunday Muse #142

I present myself
as whole.
You never see
the other side 
of me.


http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/ 

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The Movies

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers
Weekly Scribblings #51 - Looking Back and Writing Forward

(posted by Magaly)

I chose Weekly Scribblings #9 - Contagion
movie goer's smiles
sharing a tub of popcorn
contagious laughter

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

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When Our Fears Subside

 When can we take our first baby steps
 in this upside-down world, empty streets.
 We may feel exposed with no mask to protect
 new tentative smiles, clarity of speech.

 Our hugs will surely bring forth tears of joy,
 lips will meet softly on that first kiss
 as long-time lovers feel oddly coy.
 Dining out–magical–something we’ve missed.

 Sounds of laughter, children playing games,
 friends visiting, sharing a dinner.
 Buds of color pop, Spring soon to reign.
 Local shops bustle with renewed vim and vigor.

 Let us hold hands when this darkness ends,
 and seek new beginnings, from the ashes ascend.

https://dversepoets.com/
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“a long silence”

Written for:  The Twiglets #208 - "a long silence"


If you confess 
love to someone
and are met with
a long silence,
walk away.


Just as monks
may take a vow of silence,
others take a vow of
unending babble.


wetlands host frogs
cacophonous croaking
only in dark hours


             A man mostly practicing silence
           nearly committed an act of violence
                 stuck in elevator
                 with woman debater
      speaking politics which he took offense at.

https://purplepeninportland.com/2021/01/05/clear-air/
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clear air

Written for:  Carpe Diem #1842 End Of Year

"In classical Japan (following the Lunar calendar) there was a fifth season ''New Year", and this season was from approximately 20 December 'til 20 January." 


 after New Year's Eve
 life hasn't changed a bit -
 another year gone

 listen! listen!
 the sweet silence
 the day after

 New Year's Eve
 fireworks enlightens the sky -
 bad ghosts flee

 © Chèvrefeuille (our host)

Here is my attempt:

old year of black smoke
trapped in Dreamcatcher's web
clears air for new year

http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/
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Turning Corner

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 #319 - "It's A Launch"

"We’re heading in the right direction starting today. Some will say nothing has changed except the calendar year, but that’s a matter of attitude and perspective. Let’s take a positive step forward and keep pacing toward a great year.
 So, Let’s get ready to launch. We’re blasting off for another great year of poeming here at POETIC BLOOMINGS! Write a LAUNCH poem and set a course for expressiveness!"


A new calendar,
a new year.  It hangs
in the kitchen,
adorned by January's
photo of a baby wolf.

We have turned
that impossible-to-reach
corner.  The pavement
is smoother, a vaccine
exists, and we finally
have a viable president.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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stooped flowers

Written for:  Carpe Diem's TANKA SPLENDOR 2020-1: VERNAL EQUINOX

"Here at Tanka Splendor I hope to inspire you to create an all new Tanka inspired on a given Tanka.
 This week I have chosen a Tanka themed “New Beginnings” and titled “Vernal Equinox”. The “Vernal Equinox” is the time on which Spring starts … and Spring is the season for “New Beginnings”.
 Here is the Tanka to inspire you:"

 departing Winter
 visiting my ancestors graves
 paying my respects
 to Mother Nature … flowers in my hair
 Vernal Equinox

 © Chèvrefeuille (our host)

Vernal Equinox

Here is my attempt:

pointsettia
sits on top steps of staircase
Christmas plant, red-leafed
drooped and dying black in cold
cannot be left outdoors

https://carpediemtackleittuesday.wordpress.com/2020/01/11/tanka-splendor-2020-1-vernal-equinox/

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sister haiku

two sisters laugh
recalling Dad's old expressions
on a couch New Year's Eve

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

Backyard Snooze

Written for:  Sunday Whirl #489

Words:  check, dry, sleeping, haze, spine, silence,
        risk, bank, when, yard, metal, head


He sleeps in silence,
spine curved under 
a hazy sun.  His head
rests on a peacock
blue backyard pillow.
Far in the distance,
a bank of mountains
wears a metallic
gleam when the sun
nudges haze aside.
He opens an eye
to check the dry sky,
and decides he can
risk a longer snooze
in silence.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
    
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The Transformation

Written for:  The Sunday Muse #141

Ah! The transformation
begins.  Steel woman
molts as iron armor
takes root in head
and neck.  Soon time
travel will commence.
Each prong represents
an era.  No one will
jeer at her now.  Ah!
She feels the strengthening
surge within.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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Ahead to 2021

Written for:  Sunday Muse #140  (posted by Chrissa)
Edge of a new year - exploring the pauses


No resolutions
only solutions.
Vaccine for pandemic
relief, new President.
Hoping fear recedes,
jobs meet needs.
No person hungry
or homeless, endless mercy.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

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Looking Forward

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 #318
Hindsight is 2020

"They say hindsight is 20\20. 
Let’s look back (try not to cringe!) 
over this year, and find something good. 
Look back over this year and share something 
good in your own life. Perhaps look back 
through the news to find something encouraging 
that was deemed newsworthy."


An awful year. 
We shed copious tears.
So hard to conquer fear
when dealing with an unknown sphere.
           but
I witnessed neighbors come together,
shopping for whomever
could not chance weather
-ing storm so sinister.
          and
Existence of technology
allowed isolators to see
their friends and family,
and catch up on movies on TV.
          so
Now we have hope with vaccine
to stop spread of this obscene
killer.  We must succeed
in regaining health, living free.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
  
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Lost Passage Of Time

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

"Write a piece of prose or poetry that uses the words
black eyes and cold winter rain."


Stuck at nightfall
in a cold winter
rain, her cheeks
dripping mascara
looked like two
black eyes.  It
was not so much where
she was, as who
she was.  Another
blackout, another
lost day.  She prayed
nothing untoward
had happened while
Janet was gone.  All
depended on which girl
was out. She hoped
it was not reckless
Maggie.  

Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge: Tuesday, December 22, 2020  
  
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Silvery Season

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #317
Christmas Word Cloud

"Using this word cloud, write the gift of a poem for the rest of us.
 The RED words tell the Santa story; the GREEN touch on the 
Nativity."

North Pole's workshop
is in a tizzy.  Busy
elves help Santa sort
lists from children
who have proven
themselves to be nice–
twice as nice as
the rest of the year.
As always, well-meaning
reindeer attempt helping
with gift wrapping, but
their antlers get in the
way. They study the route
that Santa's sleigh will
take, instead.  In bed,
children wait impatiently
for Christmas morning,
and hope none of their
gifts are socks.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/


							
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A New Year

Written for:  Writers' Pantry #51 - Year's End
(Posted by Rosemary)

"Hands up who’s glad to see the end of 2020! Hmmm, yes, that seems to be unanimous – at least in terms of large-scale things such as firestorms, pandemics, economic downturns, and volatile political events.  Whew!"

"For this final post of the year, feel free to link any piece of writing you care to, old or new, poetry or prose, just one each, and please keep prose to an upper limit of 369 words. The prompt will stay open for a week."


Oh the joy
of a new year
waiting `round
the bend.  We
smile, cast aside
the horror that
was 2020.  We dare
to hope.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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Divine Light of Morning

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #487

Words:  sigh, breathe, morning, open, light, divine, 
        show, shine, bark, gasp, paste


The divine light
of morning shining
through open branches,
induces a sigh, pastes
a smile on my face.  I
step outside and breathe
in the first gasp 
of Winter.  Touch 
the rough bark of tree,
a show of sturdiness.
Tree knows it will soon
be covered in white frills
of frost.  It prefers
the following season 
of Spring.


https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/ 
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Laura

Written for:  Sunday Muse #139 - Laura Nyro

One lucky summer night
my friend and I, both
lovers of Laura Nyro's
music, sat in Central 
Park, and thrilled to
the sounds of Laura
at the piano, eight 
months pregnant, in
fabulous voice.  Fortunately,
I have all her music,
and it never grows stale. 
Gone too young.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

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Odd Celebration

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub
Meeting the Bar:  endings/beginnings  (posted by Peter Frankis)

"So tonight poets, I leave it up to you. Let’s write something on endings:
 - it could be a poem that plays with endings – where your lines
   don’t end properly but run off into the next line creating
   ambiguity and doubt.
 - it could be a golden shovel – find a poem (or indeed any other
   text) that annoyed you or that you loved, that spoke about
   change or resisted change, and use your golden shovel to
   comment, critique or cheer (don’t forget to tell us the poem
   that you’re quoting).
 - it could be a villanelle, pantoum, ghazal or any other repeating
   form which resists endings in favour of recurrence of emotion and
   memory (or obsession).
 - it could be a poem with the good old ‘repeating the word just in
   case you missed it’ ending, or a surprise ending. 

 "Endings as quotations
 Some of you may have read African-American poet Terrance Hayes’ A Golden Shovel – a poem where Hayes quotes Gwendolyn Brookes’ 24 word poem ‘We Real Cool’ by using each of her words as the last word of each of his 24 lines (twice!). (De hosted a session here at the pub back in 2016 on the Golden Shovel)". 



I have chosen Golden Shovel from "Life Expectancy" by Billy Collins:
"On the morning of a birthday that ended in a zero"

What outfit or dress should I put on?
she asked.  Really, what does one wear on the
occasion of divorce.  I'm worried now, and it's only morning.
This evening her friends will gather-of
course they are happy for her–to party with a
few drinks, some Tapas, maybe cards.  I think a birthday
party is far more fun, but that
is only my opinion.  Why celebrate a married life that ended
after so many years.  Well, I will not put my two cents in.
Perhaps she will meet a
new companion of whom she'll say, He's a few steps up from a zero.

https://dversepoets.com/
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Bone-chilling

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United  
(posted by Rommy)
Weekly Scribblings #50:  Down In My Bones

"I’d like us all to think about how we might finish this sentence, “Down in my bones, I feel _”. If you’d rather tackle this from a different angle, you also have the option to write about bones in general. It also isn't necessary to use the exact phrasing."


A chill fills me
down in my bones.
I fear and feel
I will never
be warm again.  Icy
fingers and toes 
will thaw out some 
time in June, when
a warm breeze comes
calling, and I can hear
the birds sing.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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Seasonal Stirrings

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - InForm Poet:
Childhood Christmas Sonnet

"Staying within our theme (Christmas), recall a moment from your youth or a childhood memory and write it in the form of a sonnet!"


We looked forward to each Christmas season
to visit our cousins, and see their tree.
There had to be a pretty good reason
for Dad to drive, Long Island from Canarsie.

How frequently it snowed on Christmas Day.
As bumper to bumper, we crawled along,
my sister and I whining all the way.
We finally arrived, and rushed headlong

into a house where aromas of pine
and roast mingled in the festive air.
Stephen played Santa, watching faces shine.
How I wish to go back to those days without care.

It pains me that most of those present have passed,
but I have these memories I know will last.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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A House By The Sea

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub, Poetics:  Exploring
Gothic as a Literary Genre.  (posted by Sanaa)

"Gothic Literature is rooted first and foremost in invoking human emotion, rather than reason and was created as a darker side of the Romanticism movement in which the explorations of feelings were emphasized."

It is a genre which, through the supernatural, the fantastic and the remote, allows a discussion on everything that has been repressed.

"For today’s Poetics, I would like you to write a Gothic poem and explore the question: “Which according to you are the deepest, darkest and most concealed of human emotions?”


Sea salt air wafted through the windows
of the new house–mansion to Anna's mind.
Paul had recently inherited a large sum
of money.  "Honey," he said grinning with 
a glimmer in his hazel eyes, "you always
yearned to live near the sea. So, see?  Isn't
this perfect?"  Anna listened to waves
lapping at the shore like a hungry cat.
She shivered, surprised at her reaction.
She strolled through rooms, heavily curtained
in dark velvet.  She wondered why the
windows were covered, with such a spectacular
view of the sea.  Paul appeared behind
her shoulder, just as she discovered a small
locked room.  Anna jumped as she felt his
breath on her neck.  Paul laughed.  "No key,"
she asked.  Paul waved his arms at this
trifling detail.  Said he would get the key
in the morning.  Just before dawn, Anna
heard a shrill scream.

https://dversepoets.com/2020/12/15/poetics-exploring-gothic-as-a-literary-genre-step-into-the-realm-with-me/
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Cold Whisper

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

"Use the phrase "as winter whispers" in any form."


as winter whispers
he catches the ear of Spring
my days are numbered

https://godoggocafe.com/

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“an emotional ape”

Written for:  The Twiglets #207 - "an emotional ape"


That big gorilla husband of mine
cried like an emotional ape.


Carefully,
the ape peeled his banana
from the bottom up.


cries in his cage
emotionally distraught
over loss of mate


              There once was a boastful he-man
           who would wrestle any man in the sand.
                A woman came along
           all buff looking and strong.
  She challenged he-man who scoffed 'til he met her right hand.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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Rivers Roll On

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #49 - A B C D E F G . . .
(Posted by Rosemary)

"Use one letter multiple times in a piece of
writing–poetry or prose."  "R"


Rolling river rambles 
on steadily, unless
a hurricane sweeps in,
waters rise over top
of embankments, flooding 
whole towns with 
an unruly disregard,
wreaking havoc and ruin.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

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By A Stream

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #486

Words:  fire, lean, stream, fly, swim, present, after, 
tree, seem, trim, mouth, arm


My mouth seemed afire 
as he put his arm
around me, and leaned
in for a kiss.  Bliss.
A tree to sit under,
and the wonder of sun-sparkled
stream, was a present, a gift
that made me feel like flying.
I felt there would never be
another day like this one.
Ever after my thoughts would
return to this moment, extra
trimmings added over the years.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/ 
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Warmth At The Inn

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #118
"inglenook"  (posted by Linda Lee Lyberg)

"Today is Monday and that means it’s time for dVerse’s own creation- the Quadrille. For those of you new to dVerse, the quadrille is a 44 word poem exactly, excluding the title. The word today is Inglenook.
For those of you not familiar with the word, here is a definition:
INGLENOOK (noun,English)- A close intimate corner by a fireplace where people gather for warmth; from ingle, a hearth (Scots)"


 On the coast of California
 my  husband and I discovered
 a wonderful inn for dinner.
 Music was classical, low
 background ambiance.
 A chilly time of year, 
 we were thrilled to find 
 a lovely inglenook inside.
 Flames flickered, people
 chatted.  It was a perfect
 night.

https://dversepoets.com/
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Louis

Written for:  One Woman's Quest II
VJ's Weekly Challenge #135

"Share a Heartwarming Story"


Recently a member of my old Portland
writing group reached out to all those
members–past and present–to let us know
that our beloved mentor, Louis, was in
hospice.  She suggested contributing
of a piece of writing or note be sent 
to her, and we would all read our 
pieces aloud on Zoom.  This member
of our group is a kind, caring person.
I sent in my note and a poem, as did
many others.  Unfortunately, we were
unable to do this on Zoom due to
hospice regulations.  We lost Louis
on December 7th, but all of our 
combined efforts were collected
and given to his brother.  I will
miss Louis for his knowledge, sense
of humor, and enthusiasm for life.

https://onewomansquest.org/ 
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Gerard Giraffe

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #316
Holiday Characters

"This time of year, the television programming is inundated with holiday specials featuring animated characters like Buddy the Elf, Frosty the Snowman, Nestor the Christmas Donkey, etc. Imagine a character for such a feature. Give it a kooky name and write it into your poem. Have some fun with it and see where your fancy flies us!"


Gerard Giraffe watched chimney flues
Checking drafts so Santa's ride would be smooth.
Gerard was tall and long of neck
unlike small elves, he could reach and inspect.

One Christmas Eve Santa's sleigh broke down
Children who believed would wake with a frown.
Gerard tied the presents 'round his neck
and he pulled Santa, all bedecked

with ribbons and bows.  Gerard was swift,
and delivered on time, all the gifts.
Gerard and Santa, a strange team
were cheered by kids whose faces beamed.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/ 
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One With Nature

Written for:  Sunday Muse #138

I am a face
lost in a cloud
whose mist befogs
tops of evergreens
like white smoke
mountains.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

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I’m Dreaming

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - InForm Poet - Holiday Haibun
Use a holiday song

"Stepping away from the banquet table, one of the next telling highlights of the holiday season can be found in the music and sounds we hear. Christmas Carols and songs seem to dominate the airwaves at this time of year obviously. I’m sure there are equally prominent songs from the other cultural celebrations. Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or even maybe a Festivus ditty could be heard.

Using a title or a lyric from one such inspiration, write a Haibun."


I'm dreaming of a Prince Charming
just like the ones I never knew.
His green eyes would twinkle,
and I'd turn pinkle
to hear him say come with me darling.

Said, I'm dreaming of a Prince Charming
with all the wishes that I make.
May I wake, may I wake, may I wake
to brewed tea and cake
at an afternoon tea party fete.

I'm dreaming of a Prince Charming
just like the ones I never knew.
His green eyes would twinkle,
and I'd turn pinkle
to hear him say come with me darling.

Said, I'm dreaming of a Prince Charming
with all the wishes that I make.
May I wake, may I wake, may I wake
to brewed tea and cake
at an afternoon tea party fete.

Said, I'm dreaming of a Prince Charming
with all the wishes that I make.
May I wake, may I wake, may I wake
to brewed tea and cake
at an afternoon tea party fete.


        
      all the stars she can find
      on clear winter night sky
      she look up and wishes


 https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/

   
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Sobbing In The Moonlight

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics: Stepping Off
The Sidewalk  (posted by Laura Bloomsbury)

                  “There is a place where the sidewalk ends
                   And before the street begins,
                   And there the grass grows soft and white…”
         Shel Silverstein

"For this Poetics challenge, let your imagination become a springboard to the mystical/sacred.

Here are 8 fragments from the mystic poets as prompt. Choose ONE, include the words in your poem or title if you wish, or write it as an Epigraph at the start of your poem and always cite the author too."

 Our hearts irrigate the earth. We are fields before each other (Thomas Aquinas)
 Coming, going, the waterbirds don’t leave a trace (Dogen)
 Why should not the water find delight in the floral fragrance of its own rippled surface? (Jnanadev)
 To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night (Gibran)
 Like a ruby held up to the sunrise. Is it still a stone, or a world made of redness? (Rumi)
 My heart was split, and a flower appeared (Solomon)
 The mountain path leads skyward and dissolves into light (Tukaram)
 Ask no questions of the moth in the candle flame (Attar)


I stand sobbing
in the moonlight. 
Sand is cold, beach
deserted.  Shattered
and stunned, I cannot
accept that he will
no longer be in my
life.  A knife enters
my heart.  I watch it
split, shocked to see 
a sunflower appear
in its center–leaves
of lemon, eye of brown
velvet.  Enfolded in
the flower's petals,
I am warm and secure,
my eyes closed.  When
next I open them, 
the beach is gone, my
feet wriggle in soft
grass.  Moonlight melted,
replaced by a smiling sun.
A meadow.  Violet, yellow,
blush-pink flowers beckon
me.  Scintillating scents
tickle my nose.  I laugh.
suddenly I am whole again.

My heart was split, and a flower appeared (Solomon)

https://dversepoets.com/

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“looking for light”

Written for:  The Twiglets #206 - "looking for light"


looking for light
in all the wrong places


Hey man, I'm lookin'
for a light . . . oh,
and a cigarette.  Can
you help me out?


they look out
window frames an iron sky
glowing logs burn behind them


              A man who always thought himself right
                argued with everybody in sight.
                  When shown proof he was wrong
                he scoffed.  Said they belonged
      with fake news writers who can't see the light.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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Melding

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #48:  Words of an Unprecedented Year
(posted by Magaly)

"Today’s prompt was inspired by the “Words of an Unprecedented Year”. On our preview of this prompt, shared on our last Writers’ Pantry, I offered the words Allyship, Blursday, Covidiot, Doomscrolling, and Virtue-signalling, and then invited everyone to write new poetry or prose where the central theme revolves around one or more of the given words. But here is a longer list for you to choose from (all these words appear in this year’s report):  

 Allyship, n. active support for the rights of a minority or marginalized group without being a member of it.
 Anthropause, n. a global slowdown of travel and other human activities.
 Blursday, n. a day of the week that is indistinguishable from any other.
 Blended learning, n. a style of education in which students learn via electronic and online media as well as traditional face-to-face teaching.
 Cancel culture, n. a culture in which there is a widespread practice of publicly rejecting or withdrawing support from people or things regarded as promoting socially unacceptable views.
 Covidiot, n. a person who disobeys guidelines designed to prevent the spread of Covid-19.
 Doomscrolling, n. the action of compulsively scrolling through social media or news feeds which relate bad news.
 Hygiene theatre, n. cleaning practices which give the illusion of sanitization without reducing the risk of infection.
 Infodemic, n. a proliferation of diverse, often unsubstantiated information relating to a crisis, controversy, or event, which disseminates rapidly and uncontrollably through news, online, and social media, and is regarded as intensifying public speculation or anxiety.
 Moonshot, n. an extremely ambitious and innovative project.
 Virtue-signalling, n. the public expression of opinions or sentiments intended to demonstrate one’s good character or the moral correctness of one’s position on a particular issue.
 Wokeness, n. the fact or quality of being alert to racial or social discrimination and injustice.
 Workation, n. a working vacation; a holiday during which one also works.
 
Please, choose one or as many of these words as you wish, and write new poetry or prose with a central theme inspired by your choice(s)."


Isolation, desolation,
lack of proper
information.  Calendar 
days take wing, until
each day feel like 
a Blursday.  No where
to go, no place to be,
same familiar walls.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2020-12-06T00:00:00-05:00&max-results=2 
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The Writing Begins

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Prosery Monday-
Some Prosery Cheer!  (posted by Lillian)

"PROSERY IS a piece of short prose that includes a line from a poem. I will give you the line, and then you incorporate it into your prose piece. Your prose can be either flash fiction, nonfiction, or creative nonfiction. YOU CAN NOT WRITE A POEM for this prompt. AND, your prose should be no longer than 144 words, sans title. It does not have to be exactly 144 words. But it can be no longer than 144 words. 
 YOU MUST USE THE LINE I GIVE YOU BELOW, IN THE BODY OF YOUR PROSE. 

So for today’s prompt, somewhere in your 144 word or less piece of prose, you must include the line “Reading what I have just written, I now believe”. Remember, you may change the capitalization and punctuation. You may add words before and/or after the line, but the line itself must remain intact!"


My poem begins
 under a cloud.  Words are darkness in themselves
 as if each one was a different shade–charcoal, iron,
 steel, or ink.  My guts spill out across the page.
 Yet, as I continue shaping-creping my poem into
 an ending I know will pull me so far down, I may
 never resurface–I gradually add a glimmer, a flicker
 of pearl-sized light to intrude.  I skim the draft I have
 so far.  In reading what I have just written, I now believe
 myself to be a dual-personality, fighting, struggling
 for a happy ending.

https://dversepoets.com/
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