poet’s lips

Written for:  Go Dog Go Café – Tuesday Writing Prompt – “poet’s lips”

The poet’s lips formed
a perfect “O”
from repeatedly
pouring forth
pearls of wisdom.


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“not that simple”

Written for:  The Twiglets #169 – “not that simple”

It is just not
that simple
to explain

Do not pretend
that you don’t know
how to vacuum. You are
not that simple.

birds gather twigs, sticks
scurry back and forth to build nest
not a simple task

There once was a braggart from Upstate
who swore he could lift heaviest weights.
He challenged Joe Temple
but it was not simple,
Joe, ex-pro, outdid braggart who swooned in a faint.


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Back Door Blues

Written for:  Poetic Asides Countdown Challenge – T-minus 8
“Write a persona poem.”

I got those mean
back door blues.

People slam me
I shudder and shake.
My frame is loose,
my glass may break.

I got those mean
back door blues.

Oh, those annoying dogs–
one runs out,
minutes later, the other.
One comes in,
where is the other?

I got those mean
back door blues.

My lock is loose
not hard to fathom.
they pull and push
me, until I fasten.

I got those mean
back door blues.

I need some tightening,
an oiling would be nice.
I’d love a refinish–
they ignore my advice.

I got those mean
back door blues.


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Worth A Chance

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub – Quadrille #100:  “Abacadabra!  Where’s My Magic Wand?” – (posted by Linda Lee Lyberg)

“With all the craziness going on around the entire world with COVID-19, I thought we might enjoy a little diversion into a world of fantasy and…MAGIC! Yes, today’s word will be magic to use as you see fit in any form. Please feel free to make up your own word as long as it contains Magic within!”

A genie shimmies
out of a bottle. She
offers three wishes.
Try it. Worst thing
that could happen is
they do not come true,
and scenario was
a dream. If they do
come true, you will be
certain there is
magic in this world.


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Stuck Inside My Mind

Written for:  Poetic Asides – Day 2 – Countdown T-minus 9
“Write as escape poem.”

I studied
myself through my thoughts–
tightly clenched.
Old woman
who could not find her way out
of body or mind.


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Sounds Delight

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 – Prompt #287 – Sight, Sound, Scent
“As we look for comfort and connection during this rather unsettling time in our lives, let’s consider the words sight, sound, and scent. Choose just one, and express a comfort it brings you.”

Outdoors, birds chirp,
peck, squawk. It is
the way of Spring–hopeful
feeling. Though windy
conditions prevail, a beach
blooms with sounds of ocean
waves whooshing, seagull
sonatas of complaints,
your steps upon loose slats
of the boardwalk.

Indoors, running water
of showers, animals
snoring on couches,
and music ever available
for nostalgic past–tunes
you grew up on–new music,
classical pieces, jazz,
and blues. You can space
out on Soundscapes or sing
along with classic rock.
Meditate, and listen
to your heart beating.


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Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #448

Words:  hug, face, restrict, home, times, cult, distance, count, woke, look, call, hands

How I miss hugs! They put
a smile on my face, no
matter the mood I might
be stewing in. Home
and restricted to keeping
a distance make these
aberrant times feel
isolating, no truth
to believe in. I twirl
a lock of my hair
over and over, stare at
my scrubbed, sandpapery
hands. I cannot help
thinking this is a
wake-up call to nurture
earth once again. We
cannot afford to be
a cult of naysayers.
I want my hugs back.


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If I Could Save Time In A Bottle*

Written for:  Poetic Asides PAD Writing Challenge Countdown:  T-Minus 10
“Write a time poem”

In school or work
hours dragged, clocks
were watched with
intensity. Vacations
rushed by just as you
were beginning to unwind.
Feelings of time are
directly connected
to what you are doing.
Now, an unreality has
set in. Cabin fever before
a week has passed. Long
walks, writing, and reading
regulate time to a semblance
of familiarity. Too much
time; too little time.
Hard to keep it the same
each day.  t  i  c-t  o  c,

*song by Jim Croce


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The Sad 100

Written for:  The Sunday Muse – 100th Post!


Ah, those were the days of true
meaning. My worth was obeyed.
I was a high stakes player,
not seen by everyone. Crisp
green. Now I am ragged, torn,
and worn. With vital pieces
missing, it is only a matter
of time until number 100 loses
its significance.


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Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United – Weekly Scribblings #11
“Hypophora and all that”  (posted by Sanaa)

*a writer raises questions and immediately provides an answer.

The major purpose of using hypophora is to create curiosity among the readers, while a well-timed pause produces a heightened effect in turn rousing interest.

Your Challenge today is to write using the literary device “Hypophora.”

Why would a country experiencing an epidemic, not report to other countries
To save face, because they felt they could secretly control the spread.
Reluctance to mention the word, “death.”

Why is the willow tree weeping?
Sad for itself and its relatives for lack of protection and respect.

Why do you think you are never pleased with a photo of yourself?
Do you see or think of yourself as looking different?
This might be the way others see you all the time.


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