Cigar Ash

Written for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille Night - Ashes to Ashes
(posted by SarahSouthwest)

Our word tonight is “ash”.

An ashtray full
of stale
cigar butts 
in Dad’s car.  Soon
as I climbed in,
my complexion
greened.  Fresh
cigar smoke
was also not
a favorite, but
this was far worse.
He is gone now,
and how i wish
I could smell
his cigar.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments


Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #356
Left of Center, Right

"Write one. A left poem, a center or middle poem or a right poem. Left Out to Dry. Stuck in the middle. Right Kind of Wrong. You know where to take it and make it sing."

mid forest hike
he stops and drops to his knees
proposal 'neath firs

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Teen vs. Parents

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #523

Words:  drawing, space, time, beaches, mission, murder,
        boat, tight, speedy, air, found, weapon

Do not make it
your mission
to spend all your
time at the beach,
dear.  I understand
how drawn you are
to oceans, but air
is still, sun is
murder.  Why that
tight clenched jaw
whenever I make
a suggestion?  Dad
is checking to see
if there is space
on the boat for
us to take a dinner
cruise.  We want
you to join us.  Well,
that was a speedy no.
Don't think you
can use a painful
sunburn as a weapon
to get out of our
plans for tonight.
This place was 
a lucky find.

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In The Neighborhood

Written for:  Miz Quickly - Days 16 & 17

"Pay attention


Piece of cake.

If you can get out where there are people, listen to them. Make a few notes, and use the experience as the basis of your writing."

Baby smiles, golden
curls like a halo
'round her head.
She waves to all
passersby.  'What
a friendly baby
you have.'

Hurry up, the bus
is coming!
I just want
to get a slice.
I'm getting on
with or without

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Unorthodox Treatment

Written for:  Sunday Muse #182

Plague Nurse
Now, now, do not
be afraid.  Even though
you cannot see it,
my hair is in a braid.
Most of my face
is gone, hence a cone.
All the better
to poke you with,
along with my bony 
fingers.  My scent 
lingers like a cloud
above your head.
I carry feathers
of a bird, recently
dead. He doesn't 
need them anymore.
Lay still, my ill
patient.  Do not
be afraid.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 28 Comments

Who’s In Charge Here?

Written for:  Miz Quickly - Day 15

A bird. One PARTICULAR bird

It could be the woodpecker that works on your siding. Or Woody Woodpecker.

A Harpy?

A fictional budgie belonging to a fictional character (or real/real, real/fictional, fictional/real).

First person?

First bird?

Who are all you
freeloaders?  My
family was here
first.  It is 
a well-known fact
that Bluejays rule
here.  Maybe you
finches can carry 
a tune–bit an 
inherent trait
for us.  You'd
best move your
chorus to another
tree.  And you,
sparrows, same
rule applies.
Posted in Purple's Home | 7 Comments

They Bring Us Joy

Written for:  Miz Quickly - Day 14

"Today we do return to our five-line stanza. Maybe later a longer poem. Today:

Some sort of plant (single or collective)

OR animal

OR a parent and child

OR a pair of lovers—observed or imagined

Using one of these topics, write a poem of two five-line stanzas. The two will present some of the same information, but in different ways. For instance: lovers seen from a distance/the sensation of holding hands. A squirrel’s eye view of an acorn/a deer hunter unpacking a sandwich. Panorama/closeup. Different senses. Male/female. No judgment, no conclusion, just presentation."

How nice it would be to pet a giraffe
on his puzzle pieces coat.
Sweet expressions on their faces,
munching choice leaves from tree tops.
A giraffe in office? They'd have my vote.

May all animals be protected
with enough food, water, and land.
Species are becoming extinct,
Mother Nature's eyes stream with tears.
Do your part and lend a hand.

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White Wednesday

Written for:  Miz Quickly - Day 13 - Wednesday

"Write about Wednesday. Or being wed. Or winning."

This poem is
Wednesday, dressed
in cotton white.
Comes along mid-
week; provides hope
to those awaiting

This poem is
Wednesday, in
autumn.  Observing
falling leaves,
kids shooting
baskets.  Wednesday
is non-judgmental
as it watches past
days and those
yet to come.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Grandma’s Ring

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #91 - Personal Symbols  (posted by Magaly)

"I invite you to write poetry or prose inspired by a personal symbol, or a thing that represents or stands for something else, especially a material object or an action representing something abstract to you (i.e., luck, remembrance…)."

I wear it proudly–
Grandma's oval-shaped
diamond ring.  Each
time I place the ring
on my finger, a waterfall
of memories spill in.
Grandma's red nail polish,
scent of chicken soup,
and homemade knishes.
I wear it proudly.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 5 Comments


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

"Write a poem without using the words "the" and "and"."

In twilight
a seagull takes
flight, 'gainst
streak of rosy
pink sky.  Soon
sky shades close.
Only visible are
silver glittering 
stars under light
of a full moon.
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“things were feral”

Written for:  The Twiglets #248 - "things were feral"

The feral cat
brought indoors
is not happy.

Feral beings
gather together
for bloodsport.  

on the sidelines
watched with anticipation
girl riding wild horse

           There once was an artist named Jill
             who lived in a cabin on hill.
                 She was emotional
                nursed all sick animals
        who left healed, and did not pay the bill.
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Written for:  Quickly - Toot Toot Tuesday

"Write about 
a horn.

Or a train, maybe?

Maybe a

Tootsie rolls
are yummy
but cannot toot.

Back at AA meeting
after disappearing
on a toot.

Never toot
your own horn.
We have enough
enough inflated
egos in the world.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments


Written for:  Miz Quickly - Day 11 - Monday

Monday's color
is blue as
a bad mood.
Begins a week 
of school or
work.  Even
though I am
retired, I stay
stuck in the mire
of Monday.  I wonder
why I do not see 
Monday as the white
of hope, the yellow
of sunshine, or
the pink of 
a new day.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Travels By Rail

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #355
Have Card, Will Travel

"Think of a mode of transportation, and write
it into a poem."

How I would love to travel by train,
looking out at rushing scenery
of lands with exotic names.
How I would love to travel by train,
with view of snow or Spring greenery.
How I would love to travel by train,
looking out at rushing scenery.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Tattoo Man

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #522

Words:  walk, thundering, tattoo, forest, small, covet,
        seven, blunder, leathery, elves, doves, umbrella

Tattoo Man walks into
the forest, coveting
nature's scents 
and sounds.  Small
pair of cooing doves
fly past.  At last
he is alone.  Not even
the Keebler elves
are in sight.  His skin
is leathery, burnt by
working seven years in
company of the sun.  Thunder
blast the air.  He thinks,
what a blunder I have made–
trusting the weather, carrying
no umbrella.  He smiles. 
Realizes that rain is 
an important part of nature.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Ground and Sky Trade Places

Written for:  Miz Quickly - Day 10

"What if basement condos were prime real estate and penthouses were low rent?

What if life actually did begin at forty?

Writers of alternative fiction often begin by changing one thing in their daily world. Then they try imagining what it would have taken to bring that about. If this yellow wall were called red, what other things were also changed?"

Ground is blue,
sky is green.  You can
bounce on clouds
all day.  Rain shoots
up instead of down.  
Sky is a kaleidoscope 
of color, from trees,
to flowers, to fresh
vegetables falling
when ripened.  Blue
became tired of holding
up heaven.  Green
was annoyed at being
trampled on.  Hence,
the switch.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 5 Comments

Chess Pieces

Written for:  Sunday Muse #181

Imposing pieces.
there they stand
on their squares
patiently waiting for me.
I have the power.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 19 Comments

Different Perspective

Written for:  Miz Quickly - Day 9

"Notice that in the small paintings we and the artist are looking over the shoulder of the point of view character. I want you to find your own ”sock monkey.” Maybe it is also a toy. A car might have an interesting take on things. A pet or wild animal. I don’t see any of these as being a particularly good poet—though I could be wrong."

”The Four Seasons As Seen Through the Eyes of Jessica’s Sock Monkey”
Robert Williams

Ever notice how tall
tables and counters are?
My little legs cannot
jump high enough.  When
my people are distracted,
that's when I go into
action.  I spy a candy
wrapper–looks like
a Snickers bar–left
on a side table.  All
I have to do is climb
up to the couch, using
my little staircase–
what a blessing that is–
and lean over arm, 
and pull the wrapper out 
with my teeth.  While I am
on the couch, I like
to perch on top.  Only
way to see out front
window.  Oh no!  There
goes that drooling bull dog
Baxter.  He loves
everyone, and everyone loves
him.  I bark with gusto
to let him know this block
is mine.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments


Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub  (posted by Bjorn)
Meet the bar with the Cadralor & Nobel Prize

"The cadralor is a poem of 5, unrelated, numbered stanzaic images, each of which can stand alone as a poem, is fewer than 10 lines, and ideally constrains all stanzas to the same number of lines. Imagery is crucial to cadralore: each stanza should be a whole, imagist poem, almost like a scene from a film, or a photograph. The fifth stanza acts as the crucible, alchemically pulling the unrelated stanzas together into a love poem. By “love poem,” we mean that your fifth stanza illuminates a gleaming thread that runs obliquely through the unrelated stanzas and answers the compelling question: “For what do you yearn?” 

1. Gray fur flies by.
   Squirrel skips across the deck.

2.  Animal-shaped clouds swirl.
    Sky is a keeper of white.

3.  She worries in blue.
    Her stress level is fiery orange.

4.  His eyes dart.
    What is he following?

5.  Peace is a warm hug.
    Hug me tightly.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 21 Comments

October’s Offerings

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #90:  October  (posted by Rommy)

'Take your inspiration from this quote:'

"I'm so glad I live in a world where there
 are Octobers!"

October overflows
with ripe color.  Scarlet-
tipped bushes, golden
French manicures on leaves.  
And, it's free.  Immerse yourself
in non-technicolor.  Breathe
in crisp Autumn air.  Pick
apples.  Pick pumpkins.
Bake some pies.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , | 11 Comments

Have Mercy!

Written for:  Miz Quickly

"Your mission today is to include ”it won’t happen again (name of your choice)” in your writing."

I'm deeply sorry, Your Majesty.  
It won't happen again.  Oh my,
your face is as red as
the roses I painted . . . by
mistake of course.  There's
steam coming out of your
ears.  I fear a stroke.  Please
don't poke me, I'm only a
playing card.  If you say,
'off with his head', I will
only be worth half.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

A Realist Poem

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #89:  Keeping It Real 
(posted by Rosemary)

Wikipedia tells us that Realism in art (including literature) is ‘the attempt to represent subject matter truthfully, without artificiality.’ It tends to focus on ‘the depiction of ordinary, everyday subjects’ and ‘attempts to represent familiar things as they are’.

"Below is a selection of Manu Kant’s poetry:

on my morning walk
inside an abandoned house
trees laden with unripe mangoes

As a  Realist, he focuses on observable details and adds no other commentary. 

Today I invite you to write something – anything – from a realist perspective." 

dog curled on rug
ears lay flat
whiskers long and white
one leg splayed out
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , | 6 Comments

Two Goyokha

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Writers’ Pantry #90: Why Do You Write and Share?
(posted by Rosemary)

"I have spent a lot of time, these few days, pondering the reasons why I write and share my words online, and in this community specifically.

I went from always sharing fiction, even in my poetry, to mostly writing poetry and prose about my daily life and my observations of the world. When I write, I feel like I am having a conversation with a room full of friends."

"Now, the Pantry is open! Share prose or poetry. Let your contributions be new or old, short or longish (if going for prose, the word count should be 369 words or fewer)."

A loss
One too hard too bear
Dad no longer able to
Drive his car

Dad's toast
Their wedding anniversary
Fifty years together
"She is the jewel
In my treasure chest
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 8 Comments


Written for:  Miz Quickly

"Read all of the following before beginning.

army. bingo. covering. curious
delicately. flashing. four. glued
goggles. gold. opening. page
photographed. ramp. son. stenciled

Take 5-10 of these words. 

Write down your first. Add some other forms of that word.
What is its closest synonym? Antonym?
Make a free association chain.
[eg: old>new>refrigerator >appliances > application > college> collage > alleged]

Go to the next word; repeat. Repeat. etc.

Using words from the original list or your discovered lists, or abandoning the lists altogether,
write a two-stanza poem. Or two separate poems. Or sixteen fragments."

Bingo >correct>  incorrect  >error  >misstep  >stumble  >inebriated

Curious >inquisitive  >information  >disinterested  >jaded  >cynical  

Flashing  >lightning  >streak  >zig-zag  >Zee  >alphabet  >letter

Goggles  >glasses  >sight  >blindness  >sense  >feel  >touch

Four  >quartet  >singers  >vocalists  >voice  >vent  >release

Details Not Revealed

Flashing lights warn
of accident ahead.  He
hopes no one is hurt.
Curious rubberneckers
risk causing another one.
He understands people
less and less.

Four people ambulanced
to nearest hospital,
one woman covered
in blood.  She is
admitted, and forced
to wait until there is
an opening for a room.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

Hues of Shadows

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

"Use the phrase or theme, 'shadows of our past' in any
form of writing."

Our past hangs in
Shadows follow us
Some are dark spirits
Happy times are white outlines
We smile
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“a busy window”

Written for:  The Twiglets #247 - a busy window

Witch and skull
decorations in
a busy window

Gazing out
office window
afforded her a view
of busy city street

busy day
much to be done before
window of time shuts

             A window washer on a high rise
            gave passersby quite a surprise.
              He danced on his platform
              on wood that was well worn
      Slipped, but strong grip saved him.  Not too wise. 
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , , | 10 Comments

A Night Long Ago

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #137:
Throwing Poem Stones.  (posted by WhimsyGizmo)

"Today, I want us to make a little Stone (Poem) Soup. 
"Carve us a poem out of the word stone."

Wild weed and Mateus
wine.  Stoned. Blast
The Rolling Stones.  Start out
with Jumpin’ Jack Flash,
take a taste of Brown Sugar,
maybe segue into 
Rollin’ and Tumblin’ Dice.
If your mood becomes
contemplative, roll with
Angie, Ruby Tuesday,
and Send Me Dead Flowers.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 18 Comments

Lost On A Sunday

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #354 - Edward Hopper

"It seems the paintings and works of artist Edward Hopper are great fodder to inspire other artists in their endeavors. We as poets have come across this from time to time. Many an Ekphrastic poem has sprung from these offerings. Some show the desolation of the human condition, or the interaction of the same."

Today I offer three such works for your poetic interpretation:

Each painting expresses something and it’s your job to relate what it says to you. Choose one and tell us what you see!

by Edward Hopper
Streets stripped bare.
No sign of life
anywhere on this
seventh day of
the week.  Wearing
the last decent clothes
in his closet, he sits
on sidewalk fronting
his old place of
business.  He knows
he is lost again.
He does not know why.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

The Businessman

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #521

Words:  avenge, lame, ticket, cram, gets, comfort,
        here, maybe, pulls, used, space, sit

Pulls up to the station,
boards train, ticket
in hand.  First car
is crammed.  Noisy
riders in gabfest
of gossip.  Maybe next
car might afford him
comfort and peace.  Here.
An unoccupied space.
He sits.  He sighs.  Feels
used up like a tattered
piece of garment.  What
a lame life he has led–
is leading.  How did he
get stuck like a needle
on an old recording 
repeating the same word 
over and over.  All he 
sought was to avenge
the cruel naysaying
neighbors for belittling
his family's failures.
Successful businessman,
denied joy.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

Evening Perfection

Written for:  Sunday Muse #180

Compact reflects
dark painted eyes,
perfectly lined
lips.  With her French
manicure, she is
secure about her
meeting with a new

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 19 Comments

A Glass Reminder

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

"Today’s prompt: Write about an inanimate object in your home that you can’t do without, but don’t name it."

Formed of thick glass,
I keep it always
in view.  There are
times it renders me
blue, but memories
are precious,
and I am a survivor.
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“the sun sits pretty

Written for:  The Twiglets #246 - "the sun sits pretty"

Red sun sits low.
Pretty soon it will sink
beyond horizon of ocean.

Sun is sitting pretty, 
shining from her throne,
wielding power to turn
the earth into gold.

pretty little girl
dances and draws pictures
beams a ray of sunshine

            There once was a man who proclaimed
         he could bring forth the sun, he explained.
                 Recited a chant,
            sounding more like a rant.
      Sun ducked behind storm clouds of rain.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , , | 10 Comments

Busy Pen vs. Blindfold

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday
Writer's Block  (posted by Frank Tassone)

I have a dual reaction to sad.  At times,
I must write to get through it.  I pen poems

Other times, my mind whirls like a kaleidoscope, causing
focus to become impossible.  In this state of nothingness,
I look for prompts, stare at photographs, and flip
through magazines.  It is always a relief when I can
go back to writing.  A great deal of anxiety precedes it.

                log in a stream
                risky to balance with bumps
                takes one across water
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 25 Comments

Fall Calls Out

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2
Prompt #353 - Take Comfort Where You Can Get It

Fall calls out
to all things
comfy.  Open windows
whisk in fresh air.  
Lush leaves dress trees
in finery.  Orange
pumpkins piled high
make me salivate
for pumpkin pie.
Picking apples with
colorful names like,
Honeycrisp, Pink Lady,
and my favorite–
Granny Smith–nice
and tart.  Say a sweet
goodbye to September.
Wear a light sweater,
for Fall calls out.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Windows for Dreaming

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #520

Words:  open, plains, clear, simple, drowsy, seek,
        spacious, room, grace, blue, sky, waves

No spacious rooms
do I seek
when drowsy.  
Prefer a simple
space, graced with
wide windows looking 
out at openness
of the plains, 
and a clear blue 
sky with waves of
animal clouds.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

Jaded Heart

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #88:  Equinox  (posted by Magaly)

"Today, I’ve selected three of my stitched blackout poem bits to offer as inspiration. I invite you to write poetry or prose which includes at least 1 of the following three."

Reason is music to a jaded heart.

Oh, the pain suffered
is not worth another
risk, she said.  Locked
that fragile organ, tossed
the key.  That was not
how it would be.  You see,
she heard opening notes
of her favorite piece
of music.  Hummed, despite
these past few months
when nothing was quite
right.  Clair de Lune 
floated, touched her
ears.  That is what
helped end her tears.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Seasons of a House

Written for:  Sunday Muse #179

In Autumn leaves flutter, form a carpet
'round the house whose appearance shouts Winter.
Slats seem faded and worn against gold blanket.
When cold weather blows in, the frame will splinter.

If only this house could speak of times gone by
when laughter of children rang like silver bells,
and scampering dogs raced 'round the yard to hide
their bones in secret spaces dug like a well.

This house held many owners through the years
'til generations of family were gone.
A fixer-upper now for new couples
to remodel, and perhaps, pass along.

To make a house a home takes love,
imagination and a sense of fun.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , , , | 21 Comments

Refusing The News

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

"The elements of the simplest and most common form of the Zéjel are:

1. syllabic, most often written in 8 syllable lines.
2. stanzaic, opening with a mono-rhymed triplet followed by any
   number of quatrains.  
3. rhymed, the rhyme of the opening mudanza establishes a linking rhyme with the end line of the succeeding quatrains. 
Rhyme scheme, aaa bbba ccca etc."

I decide to give up the news.
My life is often filled with blues.

Except for end–mandatory–
of broadcast, with feel good story
of one who surpassed odds, found glory.
To hear vaccine news leaves me confused.

Local news is filled with shootings,
stabbings, fires, oft time looting.
National news expands to include
wildfires, flooding.  Can no longer view.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 17 Comments

morning glories

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

"Use the words, tomorrow, death, and glory."

morning glories light
spreads joy on this Spring day
leaves death for tomorrow

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

“let me go mad”

Written for:  The Twiglets # 245 - "let me go mad"

Let me go,
madness is just
around the corner.

Put me in Wonderland
where everyone is mad,
and no one will notice.

she fears madness
even on this lovely morn
it hovers

               A man was incarcerated.
            His bail could not be debated.
             He disrobed on the street,
                they all got a peek.
     When laughs faded, cops cuffed him, ego deflated.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 5 Comments

Beyond Suffering

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #136
"Let's Linger"  (posted by Linda Lee Lyberg)

She lingers at 
her mother’s side,
acutely aware of
the depleted body
lying in bed–
ghostlike, ethereal
as if she has already
passed into another
realm.  Illness lingers
as does pain.   Cloudy 
eyes plead.  She cannot 
speak. She is beyond
suffering, yet
she lingers.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , , | 26 Comments

Power of Humor

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2
Prompt #352 - Many From One

"On Wednesday, during our exploration of Wallace Stevens’ work through his “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”, I instructed you to be mindful of this piece of poetics. Stevens observed his subject from many different angles, yet staying true to his subject, blackbirds.

I ask that you choose a subject, be it something in your travels or something in your realm of influence, and write your observations in as many parts as you see fit."


Saying something funny,
making people laugh
in direst of times.


Her sense of humor
was based on
other's misfortunes.


Humors of the boss
affected employees.
They waited on tiptoes.


It was easier to agree
with her, than argue
about everything.


An author whose 
books might be
opened to any page,
and produce laughter.


We lined up, coins
pressed in sweaty
fists, in front of
the Good Humor truck.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment


Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #519

Words:  streaming, free, line, fray, try, nothing, 
sharp, sheen, rights, daily

Her life frays
like hem
of old jeans.
Sharp losses suffered
daily.  A line is drawn 
in the sand.  One side
streams with memories of
freedom, travel, and a wit
to be reckoned with.  On
the other side, sand muddies,
its sheen obscure.  Try as
she might, nothing can put
her life to rights. Fraying
threads ripping her apart.
Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

Should You Tire

Written for:  Sunday Muse #178

"Pick one image to write about."

I had 
high hopes for us–
happy marriage and children.
Hollywood will adore you, dear,
my loss.

Should you
tire of stardom
you will find stars await
silvering my eyes with love dear,
your gain. 

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 23 Comments

At The County Fair

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #87:  "Let's Go To The Fair"
(posted by Rommy)

"For today’s prompt I want you to write about one (or more) things you might find at a fair and write about that. Possibilities include (but are not limited to) cotton candy, Ferris wheels, ring toss, merry-go-rounds, corn dogs, and roller coasters."

It was a county fair
without any scary bears,
though pigs did race,
and chickens paced.
In stalls, handsome horses;
in pens a goats' chorus.
Quilts were blue ribbon,
not for sale or quibblin'.
Fried, fried, fried,
Oreos, pickles–that's no lie.
I spotted my corn dogs
for which I longed.
Soft custard stands,
for pistachio I ran.
Look at all those high rides.
They churn up my insides.
Children drip ice cream cones,
teenagers stay on phones.
Fun for all, this county fair,
Oh how I wish you were there.
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In The Zephyrs of Spring

Written for:  Go Dog Go Cafe
Tuesday Writing Prompt:  "whisper through me"
(posted by Devereaux and Beth)

As the zephyrs of Spring
tickle my neck and tease
my arms, I sense a bee-buzz
of anticipation around
my head like a crystal
aura.  I recall precious
moments of long ago.  Stand
still; close my eyes.  Your
warm breath whispers through me.
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“breaks light”

Written for:  The Twiglets #244 - "breaks light"

waiting for light
to break through 

When lightbulb crashed
to the floor, it's tiny
pieces formed a mosaic.
Hard to clean up without
a light.

light breaks
across branches of maples
bird's cue to sing

         When a man purchased a brand new lamp
      he placed it next to  a thriving house plant.
              The light was intense,
              the plant took offense.
   Leaves browned and fell; lamp ignored demise of plant.
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After The Storm

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2
Prompt #351 - The Day After

"Today is September 12th. Twenty years after The Day After. We’re writing “The Day After” poems. You decide what day you are referencing and write that poem. “The Day After Tomorrow”, “The Day After I Lost My First Tooth”, “The Day After The Earth Stopped”… Let’s revisit that day. The day after."

Day after the storm
houses gone,
widespread floods,
homelessness, horrific heat.
People weep at loss,
ponder rebuilding.
How many times can they start
anew?  So
weary on
day after the storm.
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Near Summer’s End

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #518

Words:  carpets, lining, candlelight, land, tears, touching
        line, kneeling, down, flowers, late, wheels

Wheels of summer spin
rain and heat.  Late 
living flowers drop
petals on land forming
carpets at base of trees.
I kneel down to touch
the dewdrop tears in
morning sun.  By evening,
a line of ominous clouds
parts.  Zig-zags of purple
lightning, and bombs
of thunder drive everyone
to shelter indoors.  Some
eat by candlelight as
power fails, and house
lights shiver, then
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Long Silvered Locks

Written for:  Sunday Muse #177

Ach, it is becoming
too difficult to braid
the hair I have stubbornly
sought to keep.  Deep veins
and liver-spotted, arthritic
hands, are gnarled like an old
tree.  Honey, would you please
help me finish this chore
that once was a pleasure?

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Occupational Dreams

Written for:  Miz Quickly - Day 18

"It is never too late to be what you might have been."
                                ~ George Eliot

Had I talent
for singing,
I would pursue
that dream now–
me and my 
rock'n roll band
playing concerts
to excited fans.


an artist working
in mixed media.
Attended drawing
classes in my 60's,
thrilled by what
I could accomplish.
Every so often, I will
myself to pull out
pad and pencils,
and try sketching
again.  Then I peer
at my results.  Too
much forgotten,
easily discouraged.

At age ten, I had
a yen to become
a writer.  Poetry
has my heart and soul.
Perhaps that was
always my goal.
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