posting poetic prose
23 Apr 2024 23 Comments
in limerick, ekphrastic Tags: cat, crows, feathers, feline, hunt
there once roamed a fine feline pack
who desired royal avian snack:
“let’s pounce on low crows,
tasty drumsticks dispose
but the feathers we’ll gladly give back!”
Poetry prompt with Melissa at dVerse to write on Wain’s cat cartoons without using word, “cat”.
22 Apr 2024 19 Comments
in haibun Tags: caretakers, Earth Day, environment, plastic, recycle, sustainability, trash
My friend Marie is a force of and for nature. She’s come by her fierce soul honestly, through the trauma of living with, not one but two, abusive husbands consecutively; and losing an adult son to hit and run. She’s seen her share of suffering and grief. Yet, she cares about others and about the earth, our home. It hurts her to see people trash it.
She encourages everyone who will listen to recycle. When I lived on the farm (where we burned our own garbage) Marie accepted all my empty milk jugs and other plastics to put in recyclables bin in town. Now I live close to town and bring in our recyclables myself, including cardboard and glass. That makes Marie proud.
Marie picks up trash while on our walks and checks garbage cans for plastic bottles within reach. Sometimes her little car is full of bags of materials to be recycled. It’s almost a part-time job for her, now in her seventies. She may be small but she has a big heart and faith. She believes we must take better care of God’s beautiful world.
earth’s creatures fragile
plastic rings can suffocate
choking on our trash
Written for Earth Day 2024, “Planet vs. Plastics” theme and linked to dVerse poets where Frank hosts haibuns.
16 Apr 2024 24 Comments
in quatrain Tags: beef, cows, dairy, farmers, herd
i’d like to write a book so that people
would understand good farmers truly care
about the animals they raise and feed
and breed, deliver young, nourish the herd.
it’s more than just business and bottom line
but for the love of cows that farmers will
work hard to keep them growing and alive
thru snowstorms, heat, disease, and parasites.
explain how methane cycle benefits;
how cow manure enhances health of soil.
why farmers plant their fields with corn and hay
to keep cattle content chewing their cud.
cows give us dairy products and real beef
both protein sources good for humankind
we treat our cattle with humane kindness
and they in turn help us to feed the world.
______________
Sanaa hosts poetics at dVerse today featuring poems of Maggie Smith. I’ve written in monologue style with no end rhyme but rhythmic pattern of iambic pentameter.
12 Apr 2024 4 Comments
women want to be men, men pretend to be women, kids are confused.
illegals will vote between narcissist or puppet for president.
C.R.T. and D.E.I.* work to antagonize and divide us.
citizens fear christian nationalism as country goes to hell.
__________
*CRT is critical race theory, DEI is diversity, equity & inclusion.
10 Apr 2024 13 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: antique, box, childhood, dreams, jewelry, memories
my box was antique blue
with a heart-shaped lock,
tiny key and gold filigree-
patterned lid, lifted fragilely
on two hinges to reveal tray
of velvety divided squares
my box held real jewelry,
leftovers from my mother
and grandmother which i
imagined in woke-dreams
they’d worn to royal teas
and exotic travels overseas
my box was old, well-used;
velvet rubbed bare in spots
till hinges broke irreparably
and i left childhood dreams
behind, discarded with box
but kept jeweled memories
______________
Patterned after Gillian Clarke’s poem, “My Box” and shared with Kim at dVerse poets OLN.
08 Apr 2024 34 Comments
in prosery Tags: music, art, stars, entertainment, diva
Angling Agent: I can help you get your big break if you’re ready to deal.
Undiscovered Diva: Ok, yeah. I could use a break so just tell me what I need to do.
Agent: Your songs are too happy…you gotta write something darker, create an edgier voice, if you know what I mean.
Diva: But I think music should lift people up…that’s what it does for me.
Agent: That’s too predictable. You need to push the envelope with revealing costumes too.
Diva: I want to sell my music, not my body and soul!
Agent: Look, if you impress the right people, they’ll give you a million dollar record contract!
Diva: Do they even produce records any more? I just want to make my music.
Agent: What does it matter, that? The stars we see are already dead…and dead stars still burn.
____________
Prosery prompt with Dora at dVerse. Write 144 words and include this line from poet Amy Woolard: “What does it matter that the stars we see are already dead.“
05 Apr 2024 2 Comments
_______
the darkness of sin’s
shadow covers earth
yet souls yearn for light
our true king’s crown
mysteriously revealed
rebels risk blindness
if we underestimate
your intense glory!
_______
As we anticipate total eclipse on April 8, 2024
01 Apr 2024 11 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: bird-fights, grackles, hackles, incivility
the grackles are back!
their cackles they stack
with hackles raised on
their backles so black;
no more dirty bird-fights
in hood should we lack!
______________
27 Mar 2024 23 Comments
in shape poem Tags: worship, stained-glass, church, stairs, balcony
Linking to dVerse Poets Pub where Kim hosts poetics on the theme of “buildings“.
______________
come, walk into
red-brick city church
of my childhood years
impressive facade soars
with cross atop central peak
an ancient yet beloved building
which features wide concrete steps
to enter through two heavy-hinged doors
come, climb up more
stairs to enter sanctuary
even higher to three balconies
hung below exposed-beam rafters
steps creak predictably under weight of
people with friendly faces and familiar voices
edifice embraces a warm welcome for regulars
and visitors alike with smiles, handshakes or hugs
come, sit down
on long wooden bench
which stood sturdy for years
smoothed by past congregants
sliding across row to make room
one central aisle with two side-aisles
all lead to table and raised stage in front
where God’s open word remains focal point
come, look up at
the light of the world
large stained-glass Jesus
who carries little lamb close
as he walks above choir loft with
staff in hand while sunlight filters in
organ begins prelude, robed choir enters
the minister stands and we all rise to worship
______________
18 Mar 2024 2 Comments
in scripture Tags: Jesus, masonry, Passion, rock, stone, tomb
swaddled baby lay in stone manger
boy grows skills as carpenter mason
learns plumb, rule, chisel from father
is tempted to turn stones into bread
but will not live on devil’s hard tack
rabbi whets hunger of discipled hearts
prompts petra’s rock solid profession
weeps on palm littered road into city
children and stones cry out his praises
but hard hearted crowds yell “crucify!”
he stumbles with cross on same pavers
as suffering hones his mission’s passion
earth quakes, rocks split, he yields spirit
wrapped body lay in stone cold tomb
he leaves grave clothes folded on slab
now actively quarries with measured cuts
to raise new temple built of living stones
12 Mar 2024 25 Comments
in ekphrastic Tags: daffodils, narcissus, orchard, spring, turtledove
farewell, white lion; we hear spring’s love call,
lone turtledove coos like sentinel in orchard;
schoolgirl swings carefree from supple branch as
she and tree both bud-burst into double smiles.
sun’s gaze reflects golden dawn on water and
we breathe in heady floral of narcissus blooms;
drink goblet of lemon beauty offered by daffodils,
open beautiful eyes to every greening possibility!
Merril hosts dVerse poetics incorporating names of daffodil varieties (in italic) and a painting by Alfred Sisley (1881) entitled, “Orchard in Spring”.
11 Mar 2024 25 Comments
in prosery Tags: dementia, father, obituary, terminal
She hadn’t visited for a whole week and felt a little guilty. She was his only daughter and had moved him to be closer to her. The staff at the memory care unit were attentive and Dad seemed well-adjusted to the move. He was eating better than before and sometimes when she came, they could have an actual conversation.
When she arrived that afternoon, he was sitting in a straight chair at the dining room table, perusing the local newspaper. “Hi Dad! How are you?!” she greeted, a bit too cheerily. He startled and stared at her with a troubled expression.
“What are you reading?” she queried in a softer voice.
“The obituaries…didn’t see my name yet,” he responded dryly.
She hid her smile and hesitantly asked, “Anybody we know?”
“I didn’t recognize all of the names swallowed up by the cold…”
_________________
A 144-word prosery prompt by Bjorn at dVerse Poets, including a line by Swedish poet laureate, Tomas Tranströmer (the final line of my prosery).
a poem in my pocket 
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