Friday, August 22, 2014

Be Your Own Star

If a palm frond waves
Will you wave back?
Or just nod at
Waves slapping their palms
On the sand
There's a grain of truth
In the seas
And we rarely see it
Spending time wishing on stars
But its time to be your own star
Light your path through
The trees
And remember to wave
At palms on the way
( Everyone needs a frond...)

This is offered for Sumana's prompt to write about a path at Poetry Jam, and for Dverse Poets where Victoria asked us to write a poem with patterns, I was playing with homonyms. As you can see from the poem, I was just playing in general... a wordplay that took on a life of it's own.  Happy Friday everyone!! :-)

Friday, August 1, 2014


It is an ordinary
Ink and a container
To keep my fingers
From getting blue
(though they still do)
It holds all dreams
And fears
Just by pressing
Pen to paper
Releases my words
To the world
Laying on the table
Or desk
It could be a stick
But in fact
It's filled with magic

This is offered for Peggy's prompt at Poetry Jam to write about something ordinary.  I write a lot of poetry on my electronic tablet, but I love the flow of pen and paper, scratching things out, rearranging.  It feels like magic.  Happy Weekend!

Don't B Flat

The bluesman wailed under a swaying moon
The Ice Queen sipped the sound
Her tongue was sliced by C Sharp
But no blood was found
Melody flew through her lips
Then was consumed
By the sun
Of beat
Bounced off the trees
Who boughed and shook
Their shiny leaves
Willow gave a shimmy shake
Left musical leaf notes
In her wake
Breezling fingers flew
Music that
Tasted green
And that old man
Couldn't stop clapping

This is offered for Claudia's prompt at Dverse Poets to write a fantasy story using certain characters--I used Ice Queen, Bluesman and a man who couldn't stop clapping.  This started as a response to Anthony's prompt last week to write a DMT dream type poem, but I was too late to link.  Really enjoyed blending the two. Hope you do too :-)

Sunday, July 27, 2014

A Taste of Special

Always a half
Served as he decompressed
From the day
Creamy yellow green flesh
With salt and a lemon squeeze
My sister and I
Little birds
Perched near
Begged for
A bite
With surgical precision
He'd slice a small sliver
And deliver it
Like the rarest of delicacies
To our open mouths
Butter soft and rich
Tang and salt
Dawn barely bright
We sat at the speckled
Orange Formica table
Grandpa sipping coffee
Me poised for the moment
His large fingers
Pinched a sugar cube
Like a magician
He held it above steaming
Dark brew
Liquid climbed
Into pure white crystals
Turning them
Toasty brown
At the half way point
He'd pop it in my mouth
A hot crumbled crunch
Sweet so strong it
My teeth complained
But tempered with
Warm roasty coffee...

This offered for Poetry Pantry at Poets United  Not sure why these memories were rolling around my head this morning while I washed the dishes.  Guess just the thought of how special we felt to share in the treat--evening avocado with my dad and sugar cube dunked in coffee with my Grandpa--  Anyone else have these types of memories? :-)

Thursday, July 17, 2014

There's No Good Time

Touch down, drive
Drag suitcases in
Release dog
At water waddling down the hall
It impregnated the baseboards
Partied under the floors
Splashed in a self made kiddie pool (utility room)
Too few towels to take him down
So the jaws of unknown damage
Gape and snap in your dreams
That spill into a morning
Baseboards ripped
Drywall slaughtered
Then the incessant drone 
Hulking, loud fan warriors
Blowing death and dryness
At the liquid 
In the walls

This is offered up for the very timely prompt by Gabriella, at Poetry Jam, to write about the unexpected.  Came home 11:30 Wednesday night after a nine day trip to find the water heater had rusted out and flooded the house.  Fortunately, only the hall and bedrooms.  And with all the kids being gone, very little furniture damage. Feeling lucky actually.  Hope everyone else had happier surprises. :-) 

Friday, July 11, 2014

Whirled Peas

I'm waiting for non-
judgment day
Where " I love you"
Is what we say
Differences, idiosynch-

We'll dance among the
Share whirled peas
Sip humani-

Life could be
So trouble free
If we'd embrace
Our common-
And imagine the

This is offered for Peggy's prompt at Poetry Jam to write about an impossible place.  With all the violence and anger lately, this seems pretty remote, however, I like to think that with hope all things are possible.  Happy weekend :-)

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Stranded Without A Passport

Stranded without a passport
Thirsty for deep blue
But my boat don't have a paddle
So I can't get back to you
If only I'd remembered
While packing my swim trunks
I'd be snorkeling with my baby
'Stead of hanging out with drunks
So pretty please Mister Overnight Courier
Make sure that you deliver
That little document I need
To reach my baby, at full speed
Then I'll be deep in ocean
Never, ever have to be dry
And me and my baby
Won't no more say goodbye

This was written for Alan's prompt about being thirsty at Poetry Jam, and believe it or not, based on a true story.  Just last weekend...and the title came from our friend's comment after his ordeal.  May you never be stranded without your passport and may your thirst be easily quenched.  Cheers!  Happy 4th everyone! :-)