When Touched By Dreams

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2, Prompt #424 - Hey, That's My Line! #6

"Today we return to one of our favorite exercises: Take a line from someone else’s poem posted at Poetic Bloomings and, for the moment, make it your own. You may use it as your title. Or you might consider using it in the body of your fresh new poem. Either way, be sure to credit the poet and poem from which it came.  Have fun!"


An amazing array
of ages pop up
when I dream.
Oddly, I am
never my true
age.  Sometimes
I'm that little
girl in grade
school with my 
first crush on
Jeffrey.  Often
my forties come
soaring back,
decade I loved
best for all 
the laughter, friends,
and full life.
If I wake in 
the middle of the
night from 
a happy dream,
I try to continue
it, but that seldom
works.  I am always
touched by my dreams,
whether happy or
nightmarish.

(Line taken from Mike Bayles,
Hotel Suite, Prompt #420)

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/  

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Release

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #591

Words:  switch, strip, status, air, paper, firm, minute, vision,
        bright, show, disappeared, release


He took a firm
stand.  Armed
with paper and pen
in hand, he proceeded
to write his letter
of release.  Vision 
bright, air clear,
he felt this minute
was the perfect
one to show his
superior–through
crisp, stripped
down sentences–
the status of his
feelings regarding
poor treatment he had
received for far too long.
His switch to a new
place of employment
woke him from a
hypnotic state
of staleness.  Would
his superior even 
care?  Doesn't matter.
He had become one
of the disappeared.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Throw Away What Is False

Written for:  The Sunday Muse #245

Photo on Pinterest by: @iloveblack3
These are cracked
pieces of the face
I used to wear.  Why
destroy them, you ask-
strong features, lovely
eyes.  All lies.  Perfect
ceramic for an imperfect
person.  If you studied
the eyes, you would see
vacancy.  Full lips set
in Don't Fuck With Me
pose.  Soon a rose
withers, blackens, falls
face down.  And so ceramic
masks must crack.  Under
-neath is a woman who
knows herself.  Not strong
self-confidence, no movie
star looks or brilliant
mind.  Yet, I find I like
the me that was unseen
for many years.  The only
cracks in my face
are the soft wrinkles
I have earned.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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United

Written for:  Friday Writings #62:  Pivot

"For this week’s optional prompt, the word is “pivot”. You can use that word (or a variation of it) in your poetry or prose pieces."


Two meet
talk is sweet
romance ripens, hearts beat
they dance lightly on their feet
blush paints both their cheeks
soon they feel they've reached a peak
what would make their lives complete?
wedding vow, bridal suite
pivotal moment when she speaks,
I am pregnant, we'll be three!

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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Focus on Creation

Written for:  Poetic Asides #641

"Write a hurry poem."


Never rush
when you are baking,
tidy  up
afterwards
or crucial ingredients
may be forgotten.

A cake may not rise,
if bread lacks salt, it's tasteless.
Leave the mess
for later,
like while creation
is baking.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/wednesday-poetry-prompts-641
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“dimmed lights”

Written for:  The Twiglets #310 - dimmed lights


Six previews,
six advertisements–
then, dimmed lights.
Finally, main feature.


Lights dim in restaurant,
what are they hiding?


in dimmed bedroom
monster grins from corner chair
sliver of moonlight


         There was a man so dimwitted
     he went skiing, knowledge limited.
             Rented boots and skis
               for a hefty fee.
Fell down in boots.  Luckily skis were omitted.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/

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Panicked Heart

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

"Let’s face it: we are in the heart of winter—or summer if you live south of the equator. Perhaps it’s time we confronted the heart of the matter. Or we face up to the fact that the heart is a lonely hunter. Maybe we don’t have to heart to tell anyone. Or we’re just fascinated by the heart, that tireless, chambered muscle pumping our blood every minute of our lives."


Readied for bed.  Oh no! A burning heat sears my chest.  
Is the pain spreading?  Check left arm.  By now, so panic-
stricken I cannot tell if I feel any sensation.
No fever, no nausea–good signs. 

Could it be? I quickly chew some Tums.  Heartburn has me
in its throes.

            sits by a lake
            sees movement in spring breeze–jumps.
            reflection distorts face

https://dversepoets.com/2023/01/30/haibun-monday-1-30-23-heart/
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How To Train A Puppy

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #423:  How To ____________

"We’ve all seen or heard of the series of instructional books “For Dummies.” They even seek to provide a “Complete Idiot’s Guide” to nearly every endeavor known to humankind. They all seek to show “How To” do something. Admit it, we’ve all attempted to search You Tube for instructions about something or other.

So this week we look to you to provide poetic information on how to do something. How to use a left handed ganglion wrench. How to boil water. How to write a “How To” poem. Tell us what to do, or more importantly, how to do it. I assure you we will be better served for it!"


Puppy chews rug.
You spray it with Bitter Apple.
Puppy chews wooden table.
You spray it with Bitter Apple.
Puppy figures out that the spray
dries.  Goes back to chewing
rug and table.
Puppy gives you loud, squeaky
toy to throw.  You throw it.
Puppy brings toy back.
You throw it.
The game continues on and on,
broken only by a treat or a nap
in crate.
Puppy cuddles in bed with you.
All is forgiven.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Shredded Flowers of Peace

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #590

Words:  floods, barns, faded, walked, peace, drumming, clung,
        hunt, thick, blooms, topped, spread


Outside the barns, homes,
and shelters we have walked
past, thick blooms that once
clung to peace have faded–
spread so sparsely–the deluge
of floods, and drumming
of wars have hunted them
down.  All that is left
of the wilted tops 
are cold, gray ashes.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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My One True Thing

Written for:  The Sunday Muse #244


Not budging.  There is nothing
familiar around me
anymore.  You have taken
it all, sold it all.  No
matter where we have to live,
I must have this piano
with me.  If you take it
away, you will be lessening
my sanity.  I can call
any place home, if I have
my music to escape into,
and block out all 
our misfortunes.  Not
budging.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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Music and Murder

Written for:  Friday Writings #61:  Such Inspiring Titles 

"I’m always curious about what other people are reading. So, for today’s optional prompt—which I am not using to fatten my to-be-read pile, really—I invite you to write poetry or prose inspired by the title of the first book you read, are reading, or will read in 2023."


Jazz fanatic, older detective,
male working with younger
crew, and reporting to known
associate–young, tough
woman.  Ever think about
solving a cold case?
They do.  With a desert
star shining over 
Los Angeles comes a labyrinth
of twists, turns, and rule
bending.  Keeps you guessing.
Bosch and Ballard make an 
ideal team, and they are
closing in.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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Stopping to Think

Written for:  Poetic Asides #640
"Write a pursuit poem."


It is always out
of reach.  Thinking
things through 
before acting
impulsively.  
You would think,
after so many
disastrous decisions,
I would learn.  Burn
your bridges, and keep
looking for the next
change, chance of a
different life–that's me,
at seventy-three.


https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/wednesday-poetry-prompts-640 
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Grandma Jenny

Written for: dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:  Grandmothers . . .
(posted by sarahsouthwest)

" . . . write about grannies. Those older women who support us and nurture us. The women who perhaps spoil us a little, but reserve the right to tell us off. Maybe you are a grandma, or live with one. Tell me how it is to be a granny.

Maybe you don’t have grandmother, but have observed them on the bus or in a local café. Maybe you had a terrifying grandma, maybe you only know her through family myths. Or maybe there are other women who have played that role in your life. Tell me about them.


Oval, metal-legged table
dominated grandma's kitchen.
Used for baking, dinners,
holiday meals.  Short, stout
grandma spoke little
English, so I learned
to pick up scraps
of Yiddish.  Communication
through eyes, smiles,
and frown worked well.

Loved to watch her bake.
No recipes.  Flour mound
mid-table, indented for
addition of eggs. For
knishes or noodles,
grandma spread and rolled
dough to a knife edge sheet.
All dough was hand cut.  How
heavenly to recall scents
of cinnamon, potatoes,
and onions.

Dark lipstick was her only
makeup, but she loved 
jewelry, and having a family
member paint her nails.  

The kitchen was not her
only venue.  She and grandpa
took me to the playground,
pushed me on swings, and told
made-up children's stories
in Yiddish.  She always thought
we were too skinny.

https://dversepoets.com/
  
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“the weight of water”

Written for:  The Twiglets #309 - the weight of water


You cannot measure
the weight of my tears.


Floating in the pool,
weightless


she watches
stillness of blue-black glass
curtain of lake water


          A man lifting weights at poolside
        showed muscles well oiled to his bride
                gave her a wink
              but as he blinked
weights slipped from his grasp, splashed into pool, bride sighed.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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A Crush on Cherry

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub -  Quadrille #168 - Ice
(posted by Mish)


Going to the movies as a child
was a treat.  Cartoons,
double feature, and those
soda machines that spewed
forth crushed ice.  Nothing
like those clunky cubes.
I’d press the button
for cherry, and when
the soda was gone,
slurp up the crushed ice.

https://dversepoets.com/
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At The Clinic

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 #422:  That Said . . .

"Words said to children may be healing, or harmful. Inspiring or spirit-squelching. Today, we have three options to inspire our poems:

1. A memory of something said to you when you were a child
2. Something you’ve overheard said to a child
3. Words you’ve said to a child

Choose one or more, and share your words with us."


Clinic setting
children crying
waiting room filled.
A name is called.
Frightened 4 year-old
looks at her mother,
who is chomping noisily
from a bag of pretzels.
Mother says, 'Well get
your ass in there.
They called your name,
didn't they?'  Knees
knocking together,
eyes downcast,
the little girl
follows the nurse
down the hall
alone.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Bridge Lockdown

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #589

Words:  disrupt, hunt, watch, cut, lockdown, glass, flesh, craft,
        danger, gathering, challenge, murder


Traffic was murder.  A lockdown
gathering of autos made more
of a challenge for drivers
stuck on the top ramp
of the Verrazano Bridge.
Jeez, what a day!  His watch
cuts into his wrist.  Pulls
it off.  Loosens his tie choking
the flesh around his neck.  Hunting
for a new job was crucial.
Commuting was becoming a danger
to his sky-rocketing blood
pressure, and general sanity.
This constant strife was
disrupting his life, leaving
no free time to enjoy it.  He
resolves to craft a new resume
for a position closer to home.
He cannot wait to get there,
change into sweats, and sip
a relaxing glass of good
Scotch.  Evening darkness falls
just to annoy him.  Inchworm
movement.  Hell, this traffic
is murder.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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A Dream Out of Reach

Written for:  The Sunday Muse #243

Digital art by Ted Chin
Only the moon
would do.  
She stretched
her star-filled 
blue-heavens dress, 
blotting out all the world
happening below.  She'd show
them.  First to capture
moonlight.  And so,
life went on all around her
glittering garment.
Sadly, she would know 
nothing of it.  Fixated
on fame, she was turned
to blue marble, ever
out of reach of her prize.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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Dark Visitor on Gloomy Night

Written for:  Friday Writings #60

"My (optional) prompt for you this week is 'the visitor' – whatever that may suggest to you."


"Nevermore"
Not much of a conversation
between man, and raven resting
on a windowsill.  Still,
he was a unique visitor–
dark bird coming in darkness.
A ruminating raven of few
words, exacting an ambiance
of anxiety and dread, an
affirmation of a life
sadly led.  Nevermore.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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Winter Gloom

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:  The Blizzard of the Self
(posted by Sanaa)

"For Today’s Poetics, I want you to become the embodiment of winter. Tell us what you feel during this season. Describe a typical day in January. Feel free to go dark and philosophical or perhaps even write a story poem like Whiteman. I look forward to seeing what you come up with."

Dog awakes at 6:00 am
ready for a day of mayhem.
All around me is darkness
I attempt to dismiss.
Doggie play time brings dawn
Coffee is no longer warm.
Cold rushes in when I let her out
My sycamore is bare; the wind shouts.
The sun hides, makes itself scarce,
Color is muted, no green trees or grass.
I turn around, it's time for dinner
Outside my window, it's already dimmer.
Winter sports are not my thing
I am hoping for an early spring.

https://dversepoets.com/
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haiku of hurt

Written for:  Poetic Asides #639

"Write a forgetful poem."


forget what I just said
hurtful words echo in air
always remembered

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/wednesday-poetry-prompts-639
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“returned home”

Written for:  The Twiglets #308 - returned home


When she returned,
she found her home 
transformed into 
a gingerbread house.


He was stranded
in a parking lot.
His car left 
earlier.


her eyes fill with tears
the lake was still a deep blue
when she returned home


              He started out for his home,
          a quiet small town where he'd grown
               up.  Left for the city
                but oh, what a pity,
        his home now had high-priced cafe-syndrome.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/   


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What If Your Daydreams Became Your Reality

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 #421 - What Dreams May Come

"To piggyback on Sleepless in Buffalo’s sleep prompt last week, let’s let our dreams inspire our poems this week. Dreams may come as we sleep, or as daydreams. They may be life-long goals. Dr. King had a dream and we honor him for his vision. What are your dreams?"


Lost in lust
as daydreams
rise with
a hot sun.
Those days
of being
invincible,
carefree,
skin tingling
in anticipation.
With a vividness
of reality,
I see that woman,
feel those sensations,
and stay lost 
in lust 
for just
a little longer.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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After Ten Years

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #588

Words:  manifestations, moment, wraps, broken, stand, shoulder,
        silence, nearly, powdery, blade, again, shuffle


The statue is broken.  The shoulder
is missing, as if slashed
with a blade.  Powdery substance
lay on the floor.  There is a
moment of silence as they stand
wrapped in evening wear.  Again.
The manifestations have reappeared
after nearly ten years.  They can
hear soft shuffling from upstairs.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Blue Life Woman

Written for:  Sunday Muse #242

Painting by Richard Burlet “Woman in Blue”
She wears the color
of her mind
and heart.  Were her
expectations
too great?  No smile
for the miles 
she has traveled
in her head.  
She looks down 
into an abyss, 
a pit of pitch
black.  Why can't
she let go, be
absorbed?  Why 
does she still cling
to solid structures?

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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Kid Transports

Written for:  Friday Writings #59:  Wheels
(posted by Rommy)

"Use the word wheels or wheel somewhere in your piece."


Blue bike
thin tall tires
that wheeled me
anywhere I fancied.
Now I cannot ride–
too much time 
lapsed.  Fear
set in.

Second favorite form
of transportation–
metal roller skates
with clamps and a key
to tighten them.  Up
and down hills
in the playground,
and on concrete streets,
we skated faster
and faster.  Almost
as fast as years 
swiftly pass by.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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Staying in Bed

Written for:  Poetic Asides #638

"Write a delayed poem."


Do we delay
meeting the day
on purpose?  Is 
it laziness, angst,
or craziness
that keeps us
in bed a little
too long?  Does
work loom like a
witch on a black
cloud?  Is there an
unpleasant situation 
you must face?
Perhaps you will escape
but for how long?
Delays we orchestrate
on our own, create
growing anxiety.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/wednesday-poetry-prompts-638
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Sand Mountain

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:  Visionary Poems
(posted by Ingrid)

"For this prompt, write a poem inspired by a vision, dream, or both. If you want, you can return to Blake’s “dreams of infants” – perhaps you remember a recurring dream (or nightmare) from childhood which might inspire your poem. Or write about a more recent dream which affected you in some way. If you have ever been fortunate enough to have seen visions, don’t hold back – write about them, let them inspire your muse."


Oh, the horror
of being stuck
at the top 
of an enormous
mountain of sand
alone.  
We all had to
jump to the bottom
where we would
be safe.  Everyone
is down below
imploring me
to jump before
it's too late.
I have had this
recurring nightmare
many times over
the years.  In each
version, I am frozen,
paralyzed, cannot
jump.  I look
at all those colored
dots below me,
and cannot understand
how they were
able to do it.  
Just
jump.
I awaken in a sweat,
still clueless 
of meaning.

https://dversepoets.com/
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Bold Type

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #167:  BOLD-ly Go
(posted by whimsygizmo)

"In my own personal world, I choose a word each year to define the days ahead. This year, two words have wooed me: Happy, and BOLD. Today, I want you to boldly go, and embrace the bold poet within you. As you write your Quadrille, use some form of the word bold."


I’m told
you’re bold,
bit cold–
wearing gold
money–old.
You can be droll
fit no mold
yet I’m not sold
love will hold
as years unfold.
You like control;
I’m a free soul
won’t be cajoled.
I can be bold-
faced; simply scroll.

https://dversepoets.com/2023/01/09/q44-167-bold-ly-go/
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Asleep in a Fairy Tale

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #420 
To sleep, Perchance

"I’ve been having a recurrence of my sleep issues … it’s all that’s on my mind of late. So to exorcize those demons, I’m asking for sleep poems. Poems about sleep, not to put me to sleep. Getting the words out of my system may have great effect."


Little Bo-Peep 
lost her sheep,
and could not
go to sleep.

Sleeping Beauty
slept a long time
She was shrewdly
awaiting kiss of a prince.

Snow White slept well
after fear and escape.
The dwarves treated her swell,
unbeknownst to queen with lying mirror.

Rip Van Winkel, simple farmer
strolled in to the Catskills.
Met some gnomes.  It was his karma
to drink their spirits and sleep twenty years.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/

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Chaos in the Castle

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #586

Words:  castle, rat, laughs, cash, pass, handle, chatter,
        scrap, champ,  master, glasses, back


Chaotic chattering  
in the walls
of the castle.
Scampering, scratching,
scraps of giggle-
laughs, like tinkling
of glasses.  Things
were not being
handled as promised
back in the early
days of summer.
Master Wilhelm needs
to hire a new
Rat Champion.  Mistress
of the house threatens
to not pass another
night in the castle 
lying awake, listening
to the scurrying
rodents.  Master promises
that the next Rat
Champion will be hired
on a strictly cash-and-carry
out of all remaining rodents.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Serving The Moon

Written for:  Sunday Muse #241
Theme:  Reflections

Dish me up
a blue lunette.
Jet me there
with mere
imagination.
Complement with
silvery stars,
and deep cobalt
feathery flowers.
What a dish!

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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Motivation and Forms

Written for:  2023 Get Started Right Writing Challenge - Day 7

"For the final day, spend 30 minutes on your writing goals, either writing, revising, crafting a query letter, reading articles on writing, or whatever activity you can consider; then, share your activities in the comments below. You're free to decide how, but devote 30 minutes of your time today on a writing-related activity."


Reading some poetry every morning provides motivation
for my own writing as well as an appreciation for
a sizable group of varied poets.  I enjoy discovering
different forms, and use new ones when I can.  I pay
particular attention to forms that are unfamiliar,
and those poems which may not seem to use a form, yet
there is something in the layout that appeals to me.
Each April and November, I use a different form for
each of the 30-day challenge.  That in itself is
a challenge for me.

https://www.writersdigest.com/be-inspired/2023-get-started-right-writing-challenge-day-7
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The Importance of Rekindling

Written for:  Friday Writings #58:  Reclaim, Rekindle, Rebirth

"I invite you to create poetry or prose inspired by the words Reclaim, Rekindle, Rebirth. Use one, two, or all three words in your writing. Be literal or metaphorical. As always, the choice is yours."


As a fire needs rekindling
to boost flame and warmth,
so, too, does love,
friendship, caring 
for others.  Apathy enters
when a door opens wide
to a darkness of widespread
illness, fear, leaders 
who do not lead, but rather seek
disunity, disruption,
and deceit.  Role models
are as rare as selfless
politicians.  The anger
and hatred out there
is palpable.  Which people
will suffer next–those 
of color, certain religious
beliefs, or those from
other countries of origin?  
Poke and prod.  Stoke
those dying embers,
and cold hearts.  Do not
let the flame die.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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Taking Breaks

Written for:  2023 Get Started Right Writing Challenge - Day 6

"For today, read an article on writing; then, comment about something you learned and/or something you'd like to learn about writing, publishing, or anything else in 2023. The article doesn't have to be from this site, but we have quite a lot (with a few possibilities listed below under the categories of Craft of Writing, Business of Writing, and Author Spotlights)."


Under Author Spotlights, I was immediately taken with Roselle Lim:
"On Resting in the Writing Process".  I've always been a bit afraid
of taking time off.  Ms. Lim talks about preventing burnout.  Timeouts 
are necessary for refreshing yourself and your ideas.  In addition,
I related strongly to her mention of vivid memories of her relatives
who have been gone for some time.  I realize that my standout memories
of my own relatives are usually from their later years.  As you age,
loneliness can set in, if you do not have a creative outlet that you can 
share.  Mine is writing.  I am a senior.

https://www.writersdigest.com/be-inspired/2023-get-started-right-writing-challenge-day-6
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The Agony of the Supermarket

Written for:  2023 Get Started Writing Write Challenge - Day 5

"For the fifth day, write for at least 15 minutes. After all, this is a writing challenge. You can write fiction, poetry, nonfiction, or whatever strikes your fancy. And as with earlier this week, you don't have to finish whatever you start or even be happy with what you write. Just write."


Supermarkets have begun to unnerve her.  Large ones
in particular.  Aisles and aisles loom like bowling
alley lanes, just as narrow.  Where to begin?  Walking
in the door, Produce is first.  Easy choice.  Round
and round in circular loops from lettuce to fruit,
to potatoes.  Hesitation.  Fingerlings, Yukon Golds,
red bliss, white, russets, and tiny taters in a bag
which would feed one person.  Walking, standing,
crouching, squinting to read obscure labels. 
Exhausting.  By the time she reaches Dairy, she is
too weary to decide which eggs to buy–caged, cage-free,
organic, white, brown.  Large or Extra-large.  She notes
that small and medium eggs have vanished.  Dragging, eyes
bloodshot from lighting, she reaches the checkout lines.
Another game awaits.  Which line is moving the quickest,
and is anyone bagging?  She notes the self-checkout lines
expanding each time she shops.  Not for her.  She did not
go food shopping for a job.  It was job enough to get
through the ordeal of shopping.  

Next time, she'd check out delivery service, a saner
choice, except, when she begins the task of ordering
online, she finds that the pages take minutes to
reveal themselves.  Maybe fasting is her best bet.

https://www.writersdigest.com/be-inspired/2023-get-started-right-writing-challenge-day-5

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Small Ambitions

Written for:  Poetic Asides, Prompt #637

"Write an ambitious poem."


This past year has left me weary,
life changes so unexpected.
Can't continue being teary.
This past year has left me weary. 
Would welcome a change to cheery.
Wish to become more connected.
This past year has left me weary,
life changes so unexpected.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/wednesday-poetry-prompts-637
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The Ghost of Pivot

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:  Are You Listening?
(posted by Merril)

"At the end of the year, there are many lists put out of best of this or that. I noticed this New York Times list of best podcasts of 2022. I confess I have not listened to any of them, but unlike the lists of books that had too many wordy, unwieldy titles, the podcast titles can easily be inserted into a poem."

"So. . .from the list below, choose at least two titles, and write a poem including the exact words of the titles within the poem."

The Titles:

Articles of Interest: American Ivy

I Was Never There

Legacy of Speed

Not Lost

Pivot

Reveal: After Ayotzinapa

Rumble Strip

Serial

This American Life

Ghost in the Burbs


This American Life continues
with its latest serial,
'Ghost in the Burbs'.  
Based on a true story,
a ghost has been heard,
sometimes seen by folks
in the township of
Pivot, Upstate New York.
This is a limited series,
as the ghost is purported 
to have left the small
township for night life
of a city.

https://dversepoets.com/
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Another January

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun
Fireworks and a Dripping Tap  (posted by Kim)

"What do you do in the first days of January?"


A calendar chosen in December replaces old year's
choice.  All occasions, including Bugs Bunny's
birthday, are written in ink.

I never feel like a new year is worth a celebration.
Even if the old year was one of woe, I still see it
as a death.  I do not watch the ball drop.

      weather turns chill
      the great journey begins
      geese fly toward warmth

https://dversepoets.com/
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New Member of Family

Written for:  2023 Get Started Right Writing Challenge:  Day 2

"For the second day, write for at least 15 minutes. You can write fiction, poetry, nonfiction, or whatever strikes your fancy. And you don't have to finish whatever you start or even be happy with what you write. Just write."


If you get a new puppy
you will find it's nothing
like having a guppy 
for a pet.

Puppies have to learn
all those lessons
a toddler turns
into a tantrum.

Mistakes will be made,
each item appears as a toy
even if it's suede
like a shoe.

But, loyalty wins out,
affection and love
on which you can count
unconditionally.

https://www.writersdigest.com/be-inspired/2023-get-started-right-writing-challenge-day-2
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Day 1

Written for:  Get Started Right Writing Challenge:  Day 1


"Make a list of 3-5 writing goals for 2023."


Attend a live poetry reading.
Explore more poetry forms.
Put together a chapbook.

https://www.writersdigest.com/be-inspired/2023-get-started-right-writing-challenge-day-1
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Forgotten Words

Written for: Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #419 - New

"For this week’s prompt, let’s simply explore the word “new.” Some thoughts: a new year’s resolution, a different poetry form to try out, a new baby in the family, a change in career, or even news that has captured your attention."


Kindness and compassion
are not new words
just forgotten ones.
Their meanings are
straight forward,
simple to comprehend.
In this new year, 
wouldn't it be grand
to seek out 
those old words, 
and practice them.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Dangerous Cargo

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #585

Words:  matter, fly, close, right, resist, drive, oil,
        boat, shoot, speak, preserve, fire


Well shoot.  I didn't
know the boat was
carryin' oil.  Matter
fact, I was might  
boiled up about it,
'specially after
the fire.  Couldn't
find no damn life
preservers either.
Hell's Bells, I surely
spoke up about that.
Those scammers had no
right.  Lyin' 'bout
their cargo.  Just can't
resist money.  Let others
fly close to danger,
as long as strangers
do their dirty work.
Ask me, too much greed
in the world.  Shoot!

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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New Dog

Jae
Written for:  Poetic Asides - Prompt #636

"For this week's prompt, take the phrase "New (blank)," replace the blank with a new word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem."


Her puppy face warmed my heart.
Three months old, she needed a home.
She lessened my darkness in part;
her puppy face warmed my heart.
Wood, paper, books-she tears apart.
With razor-sharp teeth, devours bones. 
Her puppy face warmed my heart.
Three months old, she needed a home.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/wednesday-poetry-prompts-636
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Intensity of Emotions

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2, Prompt #418 - Uncommon Love

"Today, as much of the world celebrates Christmas Day, let’s turn our hearts to love. Not just the way we Americans use the word (I love my coat; I love your hair; I love this song), but love in the truest and purest sense of the word."


I wonder
if the tenderness,
and love I feel
for family,
and friends
no longer with us,
is more intense
than when I could see,
and speak with them. 
I hope those emotions 
shone through, were felt.  
I hope they brought light 
into their lives, in the same
way they lit up mine.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Written for:  Poetic Asides #635

"Write a winter poem."


lingering light
gone in a blink before darkness
winter solstice

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/wednesday-poetry-prompts-635
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Seasonal Gifts

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #417 - Gift

"As we enter Hanukkah and Christmas week, many are scrambling to find just the right gifts for their special loved ones. Maybe you celebrate another of the many holidays that come this time of year. As we all try to not lose ourselves in the hustle and bustle, let’s take a moment or two to settle our minds and let our words flow as gifts to one another."


May old man Winter
be benevolent
so your days will not
leave you cold and spent.

May Spring touch
your heart with buds
promising fragrant flowers
without any floods.

May Summer sun
cause you to smile
as diamonds dance
in ocean's aisle.

May Autumn's brilliance
make bright your day,
and heighten your senses
in every way. 

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Good Fairies Always Come Through

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #583

Words:  flush, fairy, breath, safe, hiss, raspy, greedy,
        soothed, torn, bluff, yellowing, spill


An out-of-breath fairy,
flushed blush from
winding in and out
of trees, reached
her safe spot, hissed
pink, and felt soothed.
She was glad her
gossamer dress was
not torn.  Raspy-
voiced, greedy hunters
were out to kill.  Frail
though the fairy seems,
she was able to guide
the buffalo until
they reached the bluff,
just as the sun
was spilling yellow
pools of light
into the forest.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Holiday Silver

Written for:  Sunday Muse

Photography with Naomi Robinson
I remember Mom's
wooden chest, lined
in red velvet.  Nestled
in their separate beds–
the "good silverware"–
only used on holidays.
When that chest was
ceremoniously placed
on the table, we knew.
Each piece had to be 
taken out, polished 
with pink cream, 
then rubbed dry
to a sheen.  I remember 
Mom's wooden chest.  
Wish I knew 
what happened
to it.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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