The Kindness Of Strangers

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 – July Covid-19 P.A.D. – Day 9 – “Doing The Dozens”

“Through the years there have been some great motion pictures that have graced the “silver screen”. And these films gave us some memorable quotes. I am offering up twelve (the dozen) of such quotations for your consideration. Choose one as an inspiration and write a poem. As always, I’m not asking for something related to the movie. Write something that is inspired by the quote and get ready for your close up!”

“Why so serious?” ~ The Dark Knight (2008)

“I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse.” ~The Godfather (1972)

“Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas any more.” ~ The Wizard of Oz (1939)

“Here’s looking at you, kid!” ~Casablanca (1942)

“Go ahead. Make my day!” ~Sudden Impact (1983)

“May the force be with you.” ~Star Wars (1977)

“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” ~ Love Story (1970)

“They call me Mister Tibbs.” ~In the Heat of the Night (1967)

“After all, tomorrow is another day.” ~Gone With the Wind (1939)

“Houston, we have a problem!” ~Apollo 13

“I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers.” ~A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)

“Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make.” ~Dracula (1931)

She was scared
to be sick out there.
An attack
was always
possible. Who would help her?
She hoped, a stranger.

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How We Remember

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #27:  “Things Were Different Back Then”  (posted by Magaly)
“If you’ve ever been in the presence of a vintage soul (AKA someone who has lived more than a few decades and who stays in a constant state of bewilderment in the face of their perception of change), then it is very likely that you’ve heard a version of “Things were different back then.” The words are often accompanied by looks and sighs that are pure longing… unless the change in question refers to something nasty or hurtful or worse, in which case the pronouncement is probably coated with relief or shrouded with inherited rage.”

Go out and play
get some fresh air,
it’s a beautiful day.
Remember, play fair.

Dad sent us to the corner
for his beloved Dutch Masters,
cigars that would surely restore
him, when when his horse came in dead last.

We took buses and trains
thinking nothing of it
never scared, it was our domain.
We’d buy orangeade and donuts

at Chock-Full-Of-Nuts, then buy some
45s, with Sides A and B.
Take the train back home and run
to get in for supper, promptly.

It is a tougher world for kids
these days, making them tense and stressed.
I wish them joy, friends to play with,
and recall of days that seemed best.

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Shopping at the Staten Island Mall

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 – July Covid-19 P.A.D. – Day 8 – Let’s Go Shopping
“We’ve finally opened the Mall! (They haven’t really, not yet). Let’s walk the concourse and find us a new outfit to make us feel re-connected with the world. We’re putting on a new face. The title of your poem should be “Shopping at the (Insert Mall Name Here)” If your closet is full, what are you going to purchase during your visit? We’ll all get through this buy and buy!”

to go
first time back?
Attack that shoe store,
try on new perfumes in Macy’s,
check out jeans, frustrated that they never quite fit right?
Let’s wander through Williams Sonoma, aghast at prices of cookware we’ll never use.
Choose new towels at Pottery Barn, feel those soft sheets. Look at pretty pillar candles.
       Get something to drink, realize you are exhausted, head home.


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Poetry Persists

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 – July Covid-19 P.A.D – Day 7 – “Reason To Cheer”
“How good is it that we can “come together” to write and comment here and on other poetry pages without restrictions or regulations? (OK, there is one demand we make here… Have fun!) Write about an aspect of poetry that keeps you coming back to write more. Let’s see where this will take you.”

Forms are a challenge
some of which I can’t manage,
but some are fun–
the triolet is one.

I can write in any voice
I want to use. It’s my choice.
Fly with fantasy,
unravel a dream’s meaning.

Subjects are limitless,
length is anyone’s guess.
Poetry is freedom,
its words, an art medium.

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“off a little”

Written for:  The Twiglets #184 – “off a little”

When he proclaimed,
biggest crowd at a rally ever,
he was off by more than a little.

Just take a little off the top.

willow trimming
laden with summer’s growth
hard to even out

Heard it said they were off just a little
especially the son in the middle.
He liked walking nude,
had a bad attitude.
He’d shoot you with water gun and giggle.

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Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Writers’ Pantry #27:  “We’re Halfway There!”  (posted by Rommy)

This world slips
slowly away
from me. Once
I had a tight
grip, knew who
I was, what my
next step
would be. Now,
bombardment of
new inventions,
and technologies.
Cannot grasp.
Arthritic fingers
will not reach. My
brain begs for words
that slip away
like a rubber tube
drifting in water.
I miss me. Is this
world truly slipping
away or am I?

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Forest Hills Rocks

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 – July Covid-19 P.A.D. – Day 6
“Music Hath Charms”
“They say music hath charms to soothe the savage breast (not beast as so many misquote). There is some sound out there that we can all feel good about. We’re heading to a concert. You name the group. I’ll lead with saying write about the experience of the first group you had seen live.”

Forest Hills Stadium
but this is no
tennis match. She
rocks the stands
with her band,
Big Brother & The
Holding Company. Feet
stomping, red feather
boa ’round her neck,
she tosses that long,
wild hair back, and belts
out some hard rock blues.
Everyone stands, wanting
her to go on and on,
that queen of bluesy-rock,
Janis Joplin.

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Dragon in the Doldrums

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle  #463

Words:  now, breath, hold, room, dread, shout, creep, inhale, cloud, want, crash, panic

Never had a problem
inhaling, holding
his breath, and exhaling
a cloud of fire
that filled a room. He
spread dread and panic
wherever he went. Shouts
could be heard across
the moat. Now the poor
thing just creeps around,
crashing into objects
as his eyesight fails.
A life wanting for
an old dragon.

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Idle Bats and Balls

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 – July Covid-19 P.A.D. – Day 5
“Where Have You Gone, Joe Dimaggio?”
“What sport, if any, do you miss? Do you miss them at all? Do you revel in having your “Sundays” back? Present a poem of the sport you miss or wished stayed permanently away. You can even write that carefree Sunday afternoon. Just be a sport about it and write without malice, Alice! Poem On!”

Baseball makes my husband
smile. All this while,
he has grudgingly contented
himself with old broadcasts.
Not the same. Nor will it be
with an empty stadium. If
teams begin playing late
in the season, he will have
a reason to smile. So,
let’s bring baseball back.
After all, they are not
the Boys of Winter.

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Walking and Moaning

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 – July Covid-19 P.A.D – Day 4
“Joe Weidner, Where Are You?”

“What do you do (or not do) to keep some semblance of fitness going for you?”

Feeling lost and loose.
No gym to tighten muscles,
and mind. Long walks
when possible, chair
exercises on diagrammed
sheets of paper. Staple
has loosened, so pages
are kept together by
keeping them pinned
under a pile of magazines
on a coffee table. Then,
there’s always moaning
and groaning which takes
surprisingly little effort.

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