This week we venture back across the big pond and are helped by a woman who contributes her poetry from Germany. I am pleased to say it’s Linda Hofke’s turn to share the spot light! Welcome Linda!
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POET and PHOTOGRAPHER LINDA HOFKE
Linda Hofke, a native Pennsylvanian, lives in Germany where she writes, takes photographs and puts her lead foot to use on the Autobahn. You can find her work at Curio Poetry, Mirow, Bolts of Silk, Jellyfish Whispers, The Fib Review, The Poetic Pinup Revue, and other online and print journals. She’s a lazy blogger who posts sporadically at http://lind-guistics.blogspot.de/ and http://lindas-life-otos.blogspot.de/. She is currently busy working on writing a very silly picture book.
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PROMPT #156 – “BOLD FACE LIE” – Think of some reasons we wouldn’t be totally truthful to someone. Choose one and write a poem debunking one of that reason.
WALT’S RATIONALE:
FOR YOUR PROTECTION
it
was
just a
little fib.
it was to save you
from getting hurt in the process.
protect me? my behind! i find
you are covering
your own ass.
no class!
fibs?
lies!
© Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014
LINDA’S REASONING:
Though I don’t do it, women tend to lie about their age more than men. Some lie with words. Others lie through the use of skillfully-applied make-up, retouching photos, or even plastic surgery. However, age catches up with everyone eventually and none of these methods work anymore. I wrote a few lines on this, scratched and erased, added and deleted, and never achieved the right wording I wanted. Then I decided to let the child in me come out and have a bit of fun with this. I know it’s not journal quality writing but I hope you don’t mind. In keeping with the theme of aging, I’ve read that laughter helps keep us youthful and happy. So this one is for your health.
OLD-AGED
I can lie about my age
but age will give me away—
streaks of grey framing my face
and wrinkles on display.
My chin and breasts recite together
the law of gravity
while racing against the other
to reach my abdominal cavity.
My knees? They’re old and fussy,
with every step they crack
and they’ll probably crumble from
the eventual chin-and-boob attack.
If it all stretches down to my feet
I guess I’ll tuck it between toes
and roll myself into a ball,
chin to toes and feet to nose.
You might think I’m exaggerating
but you simply have no clue.
You could only understand if you
were also one hundred-eighty two.
© Copyright Linda Evans Hofke – 2014
POETIC BLOOMINGS 