Decision must-do list sits crumpled,
blue pill bottle tipped askew.
Disturbed sleep awaits release,
sweat covered head buried in down.
adrift on wobbly table legs.
slice mahogany waves,
slivers shred my hands.
Teeth grit like hammer’s vise.
One thousand dentists drill,
prying, prying, prying still.
High pitched metallic sound
gathers sharks, circling round.
Close to waking, tossing, turning
seagull’s wings appear.
Flapping madly, madly more
tip the cup ‘till I spill forth,
swim across the dawning rays.
Sea of calm upon my face
hands relax, fingers curve,
arms arc upon the bed.
Dream softens in balletic pose,
body slips to denouement.
Curtains rise on new world.
Written for Napowrimo, Day 14 where we’re asked to consider dreams….and to include one or all of the following words/items: teacup, hammer, seagull, ballet slipper, shark, wobbly table, dentist, row boat. I’ve included all….using balletic and slips for ballet slipper.
My mind says do it.
Muscle memory falters,
too many springs have sprung,
the daffodil kind.
Too many candles have crowded flowers,
the icing kind.
Life’s become a carousel ride.
I’m the unbolted horse,
slowly getting up from down
moving slower still from down to up.
Au naturel, gold gilding eroded by time
ultimately rounding the bend.
Walking to my once busy house,
I imagine that merry-go-round
music wooing, colors shimmering.
I smile as my mind reminds me done that,
and I pick up my pace,
kicking through the autumn leaves.
Day 11 of Napowrimo. April is national poetry writing month. Today’s prompt includes these words, “If you are a citizen of the “union” that is your body, what is your future “state of the union” address?”
Stem sticky sap, spent dandelion
clutched in blue-veined hand,
slowly raised to cracked lips.
Eyes wide, she blew, wishing not.
Seeds and tenuous wisps dislodged,
age-old secrets sent to God.
Officially day one of NaPoWriMo! A poem a day during the month of April, National Poetry Writing Day. Today the prompt is to write about secrets.
. . . the sound before a sigh
acquiescence in the face of wrong.
She returned to her new home, a big city after Iowa. Good day at new job, alone with glass of wine in hand, the familiar chair feels comfortable. Staring at unpacked boxes, lacking energy, two unfamiliar items come into view. Walking closer, she eyes them more intently.
Two dirty, half coiled, frayed bungee cords sit atop an unopened box. Bungee cords? Metal steel curved hooks on dirty elastic cords. Quietly she hurried out the door.
partridge returns to nest
canine impressions mar one egg
nervous feathers flair
Haibun written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets where today we’re asked to write about an emotion without naming it — evoking it by the use of objects and imagery. Haibun: prose that cannot be fiction, followed by a haiku. The prose describes what happened, before my husband joined me in Boston, on my second or third day in our new condo. We moved here from Iowa. Turns out, some workers had entered our unit, without permission, to do some work….and realized they were in the wrong unit. I got security to do a thorough walk-through with me and then found out what happened. Needless to say, I received many apologies from management and I’m happy to say, we’ve lived safely and happily ever since.
Can you recall her?
Elfin sprite, youthful innocence.
from rose petals tipped toward sun.
Turned acorn crowns upside down
savoring drops of morning dew.
Danced with snowflakes
tasting cold on outstretched tongue.
Cup your wizened hands
‘neath steady drizzling rain.
Raise them to cracked lips
eyes closed, sip deeply.
Written for dVerse Tuesday Poetics where Paul asks us to pen a poem about “drinking”; being as creative as we wish with the word.
blushing cheeks and pudgy knees
jump-rope and hopscotch ~
photos keep her company
brittle memories thick with dust
Frank is our Thursday host at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. He asks us to consider brevity in our writing…and talks about the Japanese poetic forms of haiku and tanka as examples of brevity. Tanka is 5 lines with the syllabic content 5-7-5-7-7 and should contain a “pivot” at or after the third line. Here, there is a change of perspective: lines 1 – 3 describe childhood for the reader. There’s a sense of liveliness and action. Lines 4 and 5 shift the reader’s view to an elderly person looking at the photos of childhood and hopscotch. The liveliness is gone, replaced by that last line. The person seems alone….left to finger and think about these images, these brittle memories. Perhaps the photos and her memory are “thick with dust?”
Medieval court’s poetic jester
leaps cross marble floor,
bells on cap and toes.
Sings boldly eyeing men,
murmur hoarsely, choking coarsely,
cannot silence tales.
Red-faced king sits in midst
as women waggle fingers,
his scepter turned to stone.
Quadrille (44 words, sans title) written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where today De asks us to include the word “murmur”. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time — come on over and quaff some poems!
She sifts words.
in and out
over and under.
Languorous sips of coffee
and dawning day
let loose her pen.
Mental acuity ages well
when given time to prance
upon the empty page.
I rejuvenated (never say “retired”) exactly five years ago this Friday. From a stress-filled dean’s job at a university including solo global travel to doing . . . what? Talk about transition! I decided to reverse roles and became a student in an online poetry class. The pen hit the paper every morning as if a dam had been breached. Then I found WordPress and this untechie created a website. I was thrilled when I reached ten followers – all relatives. And then I found dVerse.
For me, writing is a space in and of itself, unlike any physical space. There’s a part of my mind that seems to have a conversation with my pen. dVerse introduced me to new forms and meters, and forced me to sometimes include that bug-a-boo-for-me, rhyme. I write for myself. Because of dVerse, I also edit and rewrite for my readers. Rejuvenatement brought a huge change to my biorhythms and my frequent-flyer status. dVerse made me a Samurai of words – gave me the courage to “put-it-out-there.” It’s introduced me to folks around the world who, like me, enjoy the power and creativity of words. Today, for the very first time, my computer’s auto-correct didn’t automatically change haibun to habit. How fitting is that??? Aren’t you proud of me, Toni? 🙂
arrow formation in cold crisp air
transition flies forward
Post is “double-duty” for dVerse, the online pub for poets. Today, Paul hosts Tuesday Poetics and asks us to write about a change in our lives. Yesterday was Haibun Monday where, for the last time, Toni hosted and asked us to write about how we write/our plans for our writing. She is retiring from the dVerse board, although we’ll continue to see her poetry posts. For me, Toni is inspirational….she’s patiently taught me how to write a haibun (tight, nonfiction prose followed by a haiku). She personifies the haibun’s Japanese spirit. Thank you, Toni. This one’s for you! 🙂