Another Summer Storm

    Image: Charolett Gainsboroug AnOther

Another hot and sticky summer night,

and the thunder storms are rollin’ in

so I head down  to the basement

with my coffee cup full ‘a gin

I’ve got all my favorite records

Rock ‘n roll and them ol’ time blues:

Angry screamin’ and  lonely dreamin’

by folks who got nothin’ to lose

It’s cool and it’s safe in the basement

while the storm outside gets more frightenin'

I still hear the threat of the thunder

But can’t see the flash of the lightenin’

Written for The Mag creative writing group.  Check it out.

Unincorporated

    Image by Mary Bach

Living in the middle of nowhere

you get more cows than people

for neighbors.

A church, a bar

and a few scattered houses –

in Wisconsin that’s all you need

to make a town.

That, and the folks that fill it.

Though, they fill the bar more than the church,

if truth be told.

This is for the warm-hearted G-man's FF55 where some great folks link their 55 word tributes.  Check it out!

Fascination

     Image from: feefeern.wordpress.com

With shrewd, well-reasoned calculation

She thrust her hips in syncopation

inviting full participation.

His ill-concealed anticipation

was causing painful consternation

from her outrageous instigation.

Just a little fun with word-play.

Winter Skies

January skies, so pale and thin,

begin to hint at coming life,

strife from cold and dark to meet

heat and light of longer days ahead,

fed with dreamings under winter skies.

And round two:

January sky so pale and cold,

fold yourself over the sleeping land.

Hand over your daydreams of ease

please don’t make me take these from you

too.  But in your struggle there is a grace

traced on the face you show to a world,

curled in upon itself to keep out cold,

holding  hope in life and light and love.

This is an attempt at chained-rhyme for Joy's Sunday mini-challenge at IGWRT.  Basically in this form the last word or syllable of each line must rhyme with the first word or syllable in the following line.  But Joy describes it much better, so check out the link for that and lots of other chain-rhymed poetry by the toads.

Words and image by Mary Bach

Darling...

If the world should fall away today  

just hold my hand

And if we stand at the end of time

just hold my hand

And if it’s a Sunday morning

unremarkable

in every way

just hold my hand

Written for The Mag where the lovely and talented Tess Kincaid provides a weekly writing prompt.  Check it out.

Word Magic

Old, cold words

drawn from a deep well,

still yet vital,

holding

elemental forces;

Bonded, bound,

with a power to move beyond

mere naming.

Dark, shining, infinite

from a place

too deep

for pain or loss or time;

Old, cold words

drawn from a deep well,

still yet vital.

Our only hope.

Written for G-man and his FF55 where he gives us 55 words of goodness and asks for ours back.  Check it out.

With Apologies for the Schmaltz:

My baby,

eight pounds, twenty-two inches,

born three weeks late.

Walked early – eleven months.

Talked early, and often,

the way they vote in Chicago.

By two years he was enamored

with dinosaurs.

By three he knew them all;

not just the easy ones,

T-rex and triceratops,

but pachycephalosaurus, deinonychus, compsognathus.

It was a pure, beautiful obsession.

Each day we would read

Where the Wild Things Are,

There’s a Nightmare in My Closet,

Then the Troll Heard the Squeak

and Babar;

Mr. Rogers would visit us;

we would go on walks with Maggie,

our best friend

who happened to be a Black Lab.

He was Super Dupe at two

and Bat Man at four

still lovin’ the dinos.

And when he was

five years, eight months and fifteen days

he lost his first baby tooth.

And with that tooth

a shiny, little piece

of my world

fell away.

And I cried.

He was no longer

my baby.

For Stuart McPherson's "Growing Up" prompt at dVerse with apologies for the schmaltz...but it's about my kid, I can't help it.

A Few Yarns

I’m going to need

more than rose-colored glasses

to see the bright side

*******

Pepto Bismol:

The one that coats is

the only one you need

*******

With all this higher education

to fuel our brilliant calculation

when does human adaptation

become destructive isolation?

*******

Insulate me from

the cold, pitiless world

my dear Pink Panther

*******

There once was a lass in a sweater

who’s boyfriend thought he could do better.

Though she was in the pink,

far away he did slink.

She unraveled when she read his letter.

These little fluffs of frivolity are inspired by The Mag where the lovely and talented Tess Kincaid provides a weekly writing prompt.  Check it out.

In Transit

     Image by Simon (@stmng)

We line up like dominoes

along the wall;

pressed, folded, packaged,

eyes down, hands clasped, shoulders hunched,

waiting...for what?.

We write our sins large

across the backs of strangers,

like graffiti on a bathroom stall,

public, yet anonymous. 

We recite muted incantations

forwards and backwards

through stale lips,

desperately trying

to conjure

happiness.

This is for G-man at FF55 where he asks us for 55 words of our choosing, and for the Open Link Night at dVerse. Check 'em out.

dVerse Lunes

1.

butterfly eclipse

‘round the rue

moth ‘round the yard light

2.

the moon wanes too soon

when did it

dip into darkness?

3.

inside of my head

it’s snowing

soft, storybook flakes

4.

one small step for man

in the moon

and so it begins

5.

pale grey are the days

in my head

drawing to darkness

6.

sharp, glinting edges

lures us to

eviceration

7.

winter sun sparkles

off the snow

all light but no heat

8.

You are missing from

me like a

sweet amputation

9.

with a short half-life

your love is

radioactive  

10.

I hold in my hand

one smooth stone

firm, inscrutable

11.

in the long dark night

of winter

we prepare the ground

12

ask me a one word

question and

I’ll paint your answer

13.

in my pocket seeds

lie waiting

dormant but alive

The Lune is known as the American haiku.  Robert Kelly, American poet, studied haiku, and altered the form to fit English with a 5-3-5 syllable count, and omitting capitalization and end punctuation. There are no requirements on having a nature theme, the poem may rhyme or not, may use similes or metaphors or any other poetic device.  This and lots more information on and examples of Lunes can be found at dVerse Poets Pub.  Check it out!

A Flutter of Thoughts

     Image from tumblr.com

with brain a-buzz

around a central thought,

like a lovely cloud of moths

that never lite,

the maybe-haze obscures certainty,

clarity,

conclusion

there is no focus

to the flutter of if’s;

one cannot settle...

grasp… possess… know

but in the unknowing

lies the possibility

of infinite possibilities,

and this is where our minds can dance

This is for G-man at FF55 where you can go to read 55 word gems.

For Mom

    Image by barteklauri.deviantart.com

I light a candle in your memory

and say a prayer.

It burns low;

wax runs down the side,

collecting and hardening

at the base.

It is a long prayer.

This is for Poetry Jam.  Check out the other offerings there.

Happy New Year

"I hope you will have a wonderful year, 

that you’ll dream dangerously and outrageously, 

that you’ll make something that didn’t exist before you made it, 

that you will be loved and that you will be liked, 

and that you will have people to love and to like in return.  

And, most importantly 

(because I think there should be more kindness 

and more wisdom in the world right now), 

that you will, when you need to be, be wise, 

and that you will always be kind."  

  –Neil Gaiman

I usually post my own words here, but this quote from Neil Gaiman say just what I want to say.  And this is my wish for all of you for 2013.  Peace!