Sunday, November 27, 2011


At the curb on big item pick-up day,
battered and threadbare,
sits our dingy, faded love.

Smelling of dirty socks and rancid peanut butter,
It has been re-purposed.

Now we sit in comfort,
if not in style,
watching the parade go by.

This was written in response to the visual prompt at Magpie Tales.  It is also posted at Poets United Poetry Pantry.  Both are great sites for readers and writers; check 'em out! 

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Giving Thanks

Image by

I celebrated Thanksgiving in an old fashioned way.  I invited everyone in the neighborhood to my house, we had an enormous feast, and then I killed them and took their land.   -Jon Stewart

Perhaps I should just let this quote stand alone, but I feel compelled to add that I am thankful for a number of things, both tangible and intangible.  I do not mean this to be disrespectful, just to remind myself...and anyone else who happens to find themselves here, that the things we have often come to us at the expense of others.  So, let's all share and play nice!

Monday, November 21, 2011

Magpie #92

Yin-Yang curves around
a summersault smooch

Our crazy, cartwheeling, kaleidoscope love
spins me to paradise

Baby, I’m head-over-heels for you!

This delightful photo prompt is provided by Tess Kincade at Magpie Tales.  Click on the title to go there.  This is also linked to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.  Their theme is gratitude though they also allow other topics too.  While this isn't exactly about gratitude, who isn't grateful for love like this?

Friday, November 18, 2011

Some Days

i am Tonto
i am Robin -
a side kick, kicked aside
during the central action.
i am the second sister:
Jan, not Marcia

i am the ideal wing man,
better, not best;
never the initiator.

my sterling qualities:
support, loyalty, deference;
my sins
are those of weakness
not malice.

i am peripheral

This is for Mr. Know-it-all.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Just for Fun

She always was outstanding in her field!

And now for something completely different: a silly take on the prompt at Magpie Tales.  Go there to see some more worthy efforts :o)


I'm waiting;
once again, the last to be chosen

Why do I stay,
with old whispers and lukewarm coffee
as my only consolation

The pale, grey sky is nearly absent

What will hold me to the ground
if the sky lifts completely
and gravity fails?

I'm barely making contact now

This is in response to the photo writing prompt offered at Magpie Tales.  Go there to see lots of wonderful writing.  Photo is taken from Google images, unknown photographer.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

In Time

you must
make a choice;
every minute you
delay opportunity dies.
Your world, your future depend on it - but no pressure...

This is called Fibonacci poem (or Fib) is a multiple-line verse based on the Fibonacci sequence so that the number of syllables in each line equals the total number of syllables in the preceding two lines.  There is no set number of lines, but of course, it's more difficult with each succeeding line so most are 6 - 8 lines long.  I learned of this form through a wonderful  example by Annie Perconti.  (Photo by ice891)

Friday, November 11, 2011


Coat. Keys. Purse.
Ok, let's go!

Everything half off! Hurry - one day only!
Creamy, cashmere dress,
sooo soft
skinny jeans
tall, black leather boots
with a chain across the heel
lacey panites – pink, teal, black
pretty, little nightie
supple black leather
driving gloves...

Sometimes the soul of a poet
requires retail therapy!

This was written just for fun, for Mr. Know-it-all's Flash Friday 55.  Check it out here: 55!  Also at dVerse Poets open link night

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Dark December

In her holy dance
Earth turns away,
            from light
            from warmth
            from life

With each inspiration
of cold, sharp air
lungs ache

Visible breath,
ghost at the lips,
leaving jewels of condensation
on all it touches

The austere landscape
is covered by
a night sky
of extravagant beauty,                       
hung with pulsing diamonds

As we run
tears freeze in our eyes
cold burns our ears
we taste darkness;
            no light
            no warmth
            no life

Yet this is the dark of hope-
the cold that sets the bulbs- 
the death that brings resurrection   

What are we running from?
Grace surrounds us.

This is a poem I wrote some time ago, which I am linking to Poets United for their prompt Winter.  Check out their site here: PU Thursday Think Tank I highly recommend it!

Wednesday, November 9, 2011



You ask ‘Do you think
you will ever be able
to trust me completely?’

I don’t know how to
answer - for how can I trust you
when I can’t trust myself?

This has been linked to Gooseberry Garden for their prompt 'feathers, fidelity, figment and fables.' 

Sunday, November 6, 2011

A Reminder

raw winds
gust, we pause
and remember.
Omens of winter,
the dead leaves scatter.
In their wake, barren ground
covers the bones of those who sleep,
wasted in sunken, cement chambers.

As raw winds gust, we pause and remember.

This is written in response to the picture writing prompt provided at Magpie Tales and the promp 'Omen' offered from Sunday Scribblings.  Click on the names to check out both these sites.  The from is a Dectina Refrain created by Marion Friedenthal, with each line containing the following syllables: 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9 and the refrain repeats lines 1-4.