Michelle Hed
Michelle Hed is a poet, photographer and artist living in Minnesota. Michelle finds her artistic inspiration with every glance out her window and every step out her door. She is happiest when she is outside with a camera in her hand. Her poems have appeared in the following books and online journals Poetic Bloomings, Sprout, The Fib Review, Pay Attention: A River of Stones, Prompted: An International Collection of Poems, A Handful of Stones, Haiga Online, and was a finalist in the Poetic Asides Poem- A- Day Challenge 2009.
Her photography has been awarded in local contests and has been published in Minnesota Birding and Holiday Word Gifts. She also has a book, Natural Musings, which contains both her photography and poetry. She maintains a blog, www.thepenlensandbrush.blogspot.com, for all her artistic endeavors. She is married to her best friend, has two beautiful daughters and two mischievous hounds.
© All postings and intellectual materials on this page are property of Michelle Hed.
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Prompt 13
Originally posted on July 24th, 2011 at 3:07 PM
Always Better
Striving to improve every photograph taken,
striving to improve every word written,
striving to improve every stroke of the brush,
striving to improve every social interaction,
striving to improve my personal best
and always satisfied that I gave it my all.
Prompt 16
Originally posted on August 14th, 2011 at 9:49 PM
There’s A Fire Starting in My Heart
I can’t control the burn,
the desire to touch
as I learn.
Creating from my soul,
putting the fire on paper
as I dig through the dust bowl.
As the images are born
from my mind to the paper
I fear your scorn.
Encourage me,
praise me,
there’s a fire starting
in my soul.
Inspired by “Rolling In The Deep” by Adele
Prompt 17 and a Bloom
Originally posted on August 25th, 2011 at 9:34 PM
Elusive
They say wisdom comes with age –
She dyed her hair to hide the gray,
she bought new clothes for self-esteem,
she played games with words
whether cutting or witty,
positive being brutally honest
would be less hypocritical
then telling white lies.
Then she changed –
She embraced her hair with grace and wit,
she bought new clothes for fun,
she played with words on paper
and tried to only speak words
of kindness and love
and she found that sometimes
not telling the complete truth
was kinder to the recipient.
And she discovered –
She found more joy in her life,
loving herself and giving of herself
to others via time, word or deed
than in any other time in her life.
She took more joy from the small
things in life, she slowed down
the pace and smiled at the person
she was becoming, knowing she
was finally on the right path for her.
She is still changing.
Prompt 19
Originally posted on September 9th, 2011 at 4:55 PM
Residents of the Brain
Down one wing of the old Victorian mansion
you will find a writer,
alternating between pensive stares out the window
and vigorous scratching upon a piece of vellum;
Next door there is an artist,
who glows with satisfaction
over a recently completed work of art;
Across the hall is a seamstress,
seldom seen but the sound of her sewing machine
assures the other residents she is still there;
At the end of this wing is the photographer,
often darting off before dawn
only to be found during the heat of the day
within the dark confines of his room.
In another wing
lives the family that generously host
these mismatched souls,
their laughter is often heard echoing through the halls.
Through the secret door behind a panel in the library
lives the secret residents,
the introvert dreaming of being on stage, acting and singing;
the adventurer, seldom home for he is constantly traveling the world;
the interior designer, furiously sketching and designing new ideas;
the astronomer, watching the stars every evening;
the archeologist, planning her next dig;
and the athlete, working out every day.
These are the residents of my brain-
who I am,
who I used to dream of becoming,
who I wish I was,
I am.
Title taken from the July 30, 2011 issue of Science News.
Prompt 20
Originally posted on September 15th, 2011 at 12:04 AM
The Morning After
Romance lay heavy on the air
as he arrived on her doorstep
with a corsage in hand;
She blushes,
he chats
and they pose for pictures
before leaving;
They joined their friends
in the transformed room
full of teenage hormones,
and they danced
till the shoes came off,
the hair drooped
and the lipstick was gone;
Then seeking to forestall
the inevitable ending
of the senior prom,
they drive off to the lake
and share a few last
dew drops of romance
as the sun rises.
Prompt 22
Originally posted on September 30th, 2011 at 11:28 PM
Connections
I always wanted to meet my Great-Grandfather,
we share a birthday you know,
a special connection –
I have his pocket watch,
It doesn’t work anymore
But when I hold it,
I feel warmth,
A memory,
And time stops. . .
And I see a boy running through
the fields of his grandparents’ plantation
and the bagpipes are playing in the background
and every story I was ever told about my Great-Grandfather
comes to life.
I set the watch down
and pick up the old key and
turn it around and around in my fingers,
imagining the door,
in the house,
that it might have belonged to
but now it is just a key
with no home.
Prompt 25
Originally posted on October 20th, 2011 at 1:19 PM
Collection
My eyes feast
on the autumnal hues
blanketing my world,
on the migrating birds,
on the final bloom,
on the harvest moon,
on the pumpkins on the vine,
on the laughter of girls
carving jack-o-lanterns,
my eyes harvest each memory.
Prompt 41
Originally posted on February 9th, 2012 at 2:59 PM
Borrowed, Blue, Old and New
A borrowed dress,
blue ribbons add finesse
to the garments not seen
and an old jeweled crown
sits upon her brow,
he smiles and sketches a bow
and slips a new diamond bracelet
upon her wrist,
as they kissed
then they turn to the cheering crowds
as husband and wife,
walking off to their new life.
and
Originally posted on February 9th, 2012 at 3:14 PM
Old
I like to bend your ear
with the wisdom that I hear,
learned and borrowed over time
honed as I climb
through my aging years.
I have the time to share
as I sit in this chair
a thought or two
with friends like you,
I’m not going anywhere.
So please come visit me
it gets a bit lonely
sitting here in this place
staring off into space,
I’m old but I’m here.
Prompt #43
Originally posted on February 24th, 2012 at 9:05 PM
I always mean to write on Sundays and here it is Friday night…but this time I am here.
Scattered Memories
Faded petals pressed
between the pages
of a story
yellowed photographs
in a dusty old box
high on the closet shelf
a lock of hair
in a jewelry box
in the bureau drawer
a few baby teeth
in a small white envelope
in the back of a desk drawer
giggles and smiles
in a compartment
in the back of her mind
faded and worn
but each a treasure
when the memories unfold
Prompt 47
Originally posted on March 19th, 2012 at 9:58 AM
ten day hiatus
a fresh coat on the outside
her mind ignites
and
Originally posted on March 19th, 2012 at 10:03 AM
Cultivation
she shuttered her mind for ten days
stepped out of her routine
and for those ten days
she planted seeds
and now that she is back home
back into her routine
she is ready to open the shutters
and cultivate the seeds
to see what might bloom
Prompt 48
Originally posted on March 28th, 2012 at 2:38 PM
“You Can’t Judge a Book By the Cover”
At first glance,
you see an old person.
Another look,
and you begin to take in details,
the quality and condition of their clothes,
their physical appearance,
the way they walk.
Eventually, in the matter of seconds,
you form an opinion
and keep on walking
forgetting the old person
in less time than it took to form an opinion.
While the old person
you just passed
is thinking what a handsome/pretty thing you are
and is reliving the summer of ‘45
when there was dancing in the streets
and of the dance he/she had
with a handsome/pretty little thing –
You glance back
and see the lingering smile
on the old person’s face.
And you wonder what stories they could tell,
who they were
and who they are now?
And that old saying pops into your head,
“You can’t judge a book by the cover”
You stop and make eye contact,
give a smile and continue on your way.
Never knowing the little ray of sunshine
you gave to an aging person
needing to be seen.
Prompt 49
Originally posted on April 2nd, 2012 at 12:19 PM
Leaps and Bounds
I feel invincible,
tough as nails
and ready to relieve
Atlas of his burden –
and while holding an invisible shield
all sharp, edged words
and demeaning smirks
bounce right back,
smacking the giver in the face –
with a smirk of my own
I continue conquering my day,
relishing in my accomplishments
until the day winds to a close
and a weary cape crumbles at my feet
leaving me vulnerable…
until the next time.
Prompt 50
Originally posted on April 9th, 2012 at 6:56 PM
One Breath Away
With one breath
they kissed as if the world was ending
fighting to hang on
waiting to see if the sparks still flew –
They had drifted away
lost in their own pursuits
both unknowingly thinking
this kiss will tell the truth –
Trying too hard –
Letting thoughts slip away
the spark burst into flames
the magic of love reclaimed them –
They broke apart
both grinning like love sick fools
then dived back in for more
with one breath.
Prompt 51
Originally posted on April 16th, 2012 at 9:07 AM
Sight (Cinquain)
no sight
shriveling up,
gone, nothing left to do
I have lost sight of who I am
no view
Prompt 52
Originally posted on April 25th, 2012 at 10:01 AM
Fishing
Releasing this catch
was easy,
no real thought involved.
I felt a tad guilty for throwing out the lure
but when I started to reel him in
and things started to smell a bit fishy,
I knew it was time to let him go.
There’s a lot more fish in the sea.
{Taken from my short anti-love poem posted at the Poetic Asides Website on Tuesday, April 24, 2012}
Poetic Bloomings – The Second Year – May 1, 2012 – April 30, 2013
May 2012 – Walk of Life Prompt
Behind the Scenes
I live my life in comfort
creeping behind the scenes.
I walk a quiet, joy filled life
living behind my screens.
I bird within a blind,
I shoot behind a lens,
I paint when I’m alone,
I write whenever I can.
But once or twice a year
I step out of the zone,
to face my one true fear
I speak, when not alone.
With microphone in hand
I share a bit of me –
of the things I do, write
and the things I may see.
And when that task is done,
I slip behind the scenes.
Looking to take my ease,
wearing my old blue jeans.
June 4, 2012 – In The Air Tonight
Electrifying
The heat evaporates in ten seconds flat
as the cold front slams into the sun’s dying rays
and they are swallowed by the roiling, dark gray beast
of an early evening thunderstorm.
The hairs on my arms stand at attention
even while my body is rocked by the wind
and the deepest bass drum beats grow louder,
riding the dark, gray waves of the approaching apex.
Then the drum beats reach a crescendo,
over and over again, and the strings hiss
and crack like a whip with white light
and I, I revel at the concert before me.
June 15, 2012– Water, water everywhere
one tear drop
can causes ripples
miles away
The Lure
Aqua blue
is the sea
floating toward me –
Hear the rushing lap
of the inbound tide
I’m longing for a ride –
Hot, soft sand beneath my feet,
humid, salt air in my nose
and tumbling shells at my toes –
One last exhale as I grab my board,
dash into the sea, paddling hard
adrenaline rushing, I am the wave.
July 22, 2012 – Betrayed
Betrayed
Believed in the
Easter Bunny,
Tooth Fairy and the fat man in the
Red suit with all her heart
And when the truth was revealed her
Young heart shattered, for-
Ever wondering what other lies
Dropped from her parents lips.
Betrayed
Believed in good outweighing bad with an
Eternally optimistic outlook on humanity –
Then a few misspoken words followed by
Rare lack of ethics in others
And a raw reality, no
Yearning, no hope could
Endure or overcome – and she was left
Defeated.
PB – How Do You View Your Life? PB Memoir Project
7-29-2012 Prompt #66 Part 1:Who Do You Think You Are, Michelle Hed?
White veins run through her chocolate
Hair, making her appear
Older than she is, sometimes a
Dent to her ego,
Other times a place to hide.
Yearning to leave a whisper
Of herself to last
Until the sun’s light no longer shines.
Trying to live her life with gentle dignity
Humble humor, and always
Interested in snatching serenity like
Naps in warm sunshine,
Keeping the anxieties of life at bay.
Yet not always succeeding
Often times finding herself in
Uncomfortable situations,
Arrested by the illusion assumed as a child that
Reaching adulthood would make life
Easier but in truth she is still searching,
Making mistakes, learning, growing new
Interest to replace the ones that withered,
Challenging her mind and
Heart to heap love
Every day onto those around her, hopefully
Leaving smiles and hugs in her wake –
Lessons of patience, practice and embracing
Every imperfection as unique for herself and her children.
Hoping the muse of inspiration never forgets to
Entertain her heart, knowing her
Door is always open to new ideas.
Who Do You Think You Are, Michelle Hed?
Mischievous streaks appear when least expected
Intelligent but introverted to the core
Childlike with glee when happy beyond reason
Humor – love it, sometimes lack it
Elegant, snort, only in my dreams
Loyal
Likeable, gee I hope so
Easy going
Rational, I can rationalize anything (I’m secretly a Vulcan)
Animal lover
Earthy, prefer to be outdoors with a camera in my hand
Kinky – ha ha ha, just grabbing your attention (Kind is the real word)
Reasonable
Artistic with a passion
Unusually large heart and believes in giving people
Second chances
Educated but lacking wisdom (I’ll never be old enough)
Hard working
Enjoys life one day at a time
Devoted wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, niece – family first
8-5-2012 Prompt #67 Part 2:Look What I Did
Speech
I walk the line of an introvert –
feeling safe in the shadows
but occasionally peeking my head
through the curtains
when curiosities pull is too strong.
Seeking the lime light,
being the center of attention
is NOT something I seek.
Being a famous poet/photographer
and yet obscure is possible, yes?
Sigh. To achieve my goals
I will need to shed my introvert skin
and walk out of the shadows,
giving a life lesson
as I live one.
Standing in front of the masses,
speaking on what makes my heart sing
and the journey I have thus far taken –
sharing a dream and encouraging others
to step outside of their comfort zone…
being the center of attention
and finding I can still breath,
stand upright, and talk coherently
and when it was over,
the shadows welcomed me home.
*Proud to say I stepped out of my comfort zone to give two different talks (three times) on being a writer and photographer and my journey to get to where I am today just this past spring. Part of the speech was letting everyone know how far out of my comfort zone I was and how important it sometimes is to step outside that zone when the benefit is higher (to you or someone else) than your discomfort.
8-12-2012 Prompt #68 Part 3:Welcome Home
Lehrback Road
My parents built her
the year before I was born –
She was a house
of many coats
resting on the
slope of a river bluff;
Protected by
Walnut trees,
grand Cottonwoods
and dainty Sumacs.
Inside my closet
was a secret chimney
that didn’t go anywhere
perfect for hiding
my wheat pennies
and half dollars.
We had a long living room
where you could look
out the front and
also the back –
Our first inside dog
was not allowed
on the carpet
so when my parents
were gone
I laid a trail
of doll blankets for
him to walk on
so he could watch TV
with me (my parents never knew).
Running barefoot
on the gravel cinders
to visit Grandma in her garden
or to pop in on my Aunt
for a popsicle –
More than a house
I had a valley
full of family.
8-19-2012 Prompt #69 Part 4:With a Little Help From My Friends
Junior High Choir Director
There was a man –
What man?
The man (High School Choir Director) with the power –
What power?
The power to move me into high school choir –
I failed.
I was the only one to fail.
It was a crushing blow.
I wore shades in choir
to hide my tears.
But…
my Junior High Choir Director
formed an after school madrigal group –
and so throughout High School
we sang at Nursing Homes at the holidays
and went caroling door to door –
part of me always felt like a charity case
but the other part of me
was eternally grateful
to be given the chance
to do something I loved
with a great group of friends.
He tried to pick up the pieces
of my broken self-esteem,
and though my own self-doubt
left some chips and cracks,
he gave it back to me,
more than half full.
8-26-2012 Prompt #70 Part 5: AKA
Squeak
She would walk quietly into a room
and sit upon a chair
she was quite hoping
they wouldn’t notice she was there.
She didn’t have much to say
being only four
but she liked the people fine
and liked to listen even more.
One adult looked her in eye
and said, “you don’t talk much, do you?”
and she solemnly shook her head.
“Your quiet when you walk too,
quiet as a mouse.”
And from that day on
even though she could speak,
she was ever known
as quiet as a mouse, little Squeak.
9-2-2012 Prompt #71 – Part 6: Food for thought
Beef Stew with Dumplings
Meat so tender it melts in your mouth,
carrots from the garden
makes you savor the sun which has moved south;
Celery and cabbage add some zest,
potatoes for filling you up to your chest;
The rutabaga that doesn’t always smell great
and onion that lingers after you ate;
Finally, the piece that has us clamoring for more,
the dumplings I stole from your bowl when you looked at the door.
9-9-2012 Prompt #72 – Part 7: At First Sight
Eddie
He was so cute,
brown hair, brown eyes
and dimples when he smiled.
We had fun hanging out together
even though his name
made me think of
Eddie Munster.
I liked that show,
so I guess it was okay.
He gave me a gift –
a dinosaur.
I still have it.
We were five.
Last Sight
Computer lab blues
hung around my neck
as I tried to write
a functioning computer program.
Next to me
wild, blond hair
and laughing blue eyes
watched me with chuckling interest.
I asked
or he offered –
Either way he helped me
iron out the details of my failing program.
As he walked away from the lab
I watched him through the window,
thinking there goes Einstein in a blue jean jacket
and the nicest ass I’ve ever seen.
I married that man.
9-16-2012 Prompt #73 – Part 8:Death Be Not Proud
A Fear of Nines
The year from hell began in April.
Grandpa died at age seventy-nine,
a heart-attack.
My first funeral.
I was fifteen.
Dad was just recently diagnosed
with cancer and was in the hospital
after a collapse and was not able
to come home for his father’s funeral.
Dad eventually came home,
he was given three to five years –
of life.
Dad told me the men in his family
all died at age seventy-nine.
Life went on for this teenager,
but with some new routines –
Dad had doctor appointments
but they involved chemo,
radiation and experimental treatments.
Little did I know
before the year was up
Dad would be gone too.
Cancer infiltrating his body
until he looked like a little old man,
passing away at the age of thirty-nine.
I figured it was the nine’s that were bad luck.
Every birthday I’ve had that ends with nine
is a year of holding my breathe
to see if I make it to the next year,
but thirty-nine was the hardest.
There was enormous relief
at reaching forty,
quite a celebration.
I was so relieved, I decided my fear of nines
was done.
But I’m only forty-four.
9-23-2012 Prompt #74 – Part 9: My Love Affair With…
Behind the Lens
One long lens
lies hard and ready
in my palm,
my finger
poised for action as my eye
roams up and around
the landscape;
anticipation
swirling through
my body –
prey spotted, rapid release
satisfying sigh.
9-30-2012 Prompt #75 – Part 10: The Mother Land
Never Forget
I have stood on the battlefields where blood was shed and seen the ghosts of the walking dead. I let their pain and history seep into my soul, haunted by the mysteries buried on a knoll. I need to go back and feel the earth, a place that is just a fraction of my birth but the connection runs so very deep, I can ‘never forget’ their restless sleep. So while the bagpipes play up on the knoll, I weep for each departed soul … wrapping the music around my frame an invisible kilt that goes by one name – Scotland.
thistle tea cup
drinking in the blood and tears
one page at a time
(Note: I am primarily German and Norwegian but from one Great-Grandfather comes my wee bit of Scottish and that thread has been more alluring to me than my more prominent heritage. I am from the Clan Graham and the clan motto is ‘Never Forget’. The ‘Thistle’ is a national emblem of Scotland.)
10-7-2012 Prompt #76 – Part 11: Road Trip
Ottertail Lake
Every year,
one week in July,
we would cram in the car,
we would say goodbye,
When we were young
we swam like fish
and played in the sand
only stopping for food in a dish;
Pinball machines in the lodge
slamming screen doors
that you tried to dodge;
Across the road at the local bait shop,
comic books – Archie, Super Heroes and Ghouls
and a double-layered sugar lollipop
and no school rules!
Speed boat on the lake,
learning to ski
and that first double-take…
which led to him and me.
Those stolen kisses
and sneaking off at night
getting yelled yet
for giving your parents a fright!
Summer vacations can’t be beat,
I wish I could put them on repeat!
I wish I could put them on repeat,
Summer vacations can’t be beat!
10-14-2012 Prompt #77 – Part 12: It’s a Chore
Dust, Dishes and Deliverance
Dusting –
each item had a story
or perhaps a brief pause in dusting occurred
as a new story was created and performed before moving on.
Dishes –
water full of submarines
and sea creatures from the depths
and bubbles that were blown willy nilly,
although drying was never as much fun
the task did not put me into fits of despair – yet.
Deliverance –
dusting and dishes lost their charms
with every foothold into puberty –
avoidance, homework, or the ever popular “I forgot” syndrome
kept me from doing the dirty deeds –
College was a blessing, to both my mother and I.
She was delivered from arguments regarding my faulty memory
and I … I was just plain delivered.
10-21-2012 Prompt#78 – Part 13: Mamma Mia
You Shall Not Lie
My Mother said, “Don’t ever lie to me.
For when someone lies, they lose all my trust.”
These words sunk in deep and they will not rust
nor ever flake away, they’ll always be
a part of me, this I can guarantee.
Her words worked well, I didn’t want her mistrust
but being young, a fib sometimes was just.
A small fib but I was never guilt free.
For I knew what I did and that taxing
weight brought me down and turned my mood so sour
but those words stuck and I find I’m the same
a bit unforgiving, no relaxing
intolerant of lies, do not cower
just tell me no lies, then there is no shame.
Best Friend
We are a lot alike
we have the same taste
same salt and pepper hair
same hips – a bit of a disgrace.
We talk almost every day
just to share the news,
we love to create
we just follow our muse.
I think she’s the best
she thinks I’m pretty great too
of course she created me
and that’s what mothers do.
She is my Mom
and I’ll love her forever
I wouldn’t trade her in
not for gold, nope never.
10-28-2012 Prompt#79 – Part 14: Hanging Out
The Hill
Behind the house,
pass bittersweet
and sandy mounds,
milkweed pods
and trampled grounds.
Up to the crest
and a little beyond
where the birch groves stand
and sumac rest –
I could be found.
I’d bring a book
or just sit and think
caressed by the sun
which made my eyelids blink –
I would snuggle down.
Late in the day
the deer would come
or the fox would play
and I would watch –
now I wish for that day.
In the trees
letters were carved
tears were shed
but time moved on
the years have fled.
The hill remains
and in my memory glows
the warmth and love
of time shared with the land
on the hill above.
11-4-2012 Prompt#80 – Part 15: The Big
towers fell
fears ascended
holding my babies close
A Crack in the Illusion
Safely ensconced in the Midwest
where the grass is green
the lakes are blue
and crime can be ignored –
Radical terrorist attacks
happened in other countries
never here in the amber waves of grain
never here –
All other terrorist acts on American soil
had been committed by home grown lunatics
never foreigners
until that day –
Watching the morning show
confusion reigned until the second plane hit
then the fears began to rise
as the tears began to fall –
As we learned the terrorist had breached our shores
bringing the new war here
America’s golden aura dimmed
as we realized we are not invincible.
November 11, 2012 – Prompt 81- Part 16: Just Wait Until Your Father Gets
Ken (Part 1)
He could have been the model for the barbie doll,
handsome, light brown hair and green eyes
but he was just Dad.
He had an ear for music
and would strum the strings,
tickle the ivories and
squeeze the bag ?
(nope not pipes but accordion)
and we would sing!
We would sing
when home alone just us two
or with my sister
or with my cousins, uncle, and grandfather –
any gathering became magical
when Dad sang and played.
He was always telling jokes,
(many not to be repeated)
with a twinkle in his eye
and a quirky grin,
and a pipe between his lips.
He was a lawman,
Started on patrol
And worked his way up
To detective. Honesty,
Integrity, loyalty were
Ingrained at an early age.
We played board games
and Euchre, Frisbee
and Dad liked to golf.
Yes, growing up with Dad
was magical – but it ended
way to soon.
He passed away at age thirty-nine,
when I was sixteen.
I miss him still.
Bill (Part 2)
Six years later my Mom remarried.
He is a gentle soul with a large heart.
He was divorced and his kids far away,
and he needed us as much as we
needed him.
He’s a regular ole Grizzly Adams,
constantly talking to the black bears,
all named Blackie,
that would come into the yard,
feeding the deer and
caring for injured birds.
He’s held more birds than anyone I know.
There was once a wild Grouse that adopted him
and followed him around.
He named him Chippers.
The Crow with the injured wing, Blackjack.
Besides animals, he’s magic with wood
and I have many treasured pieces
of furniture in my house.
When I informed my daughter I couldn’t
afford the magical fairy tree playhouse,
she showed it to him and he made it
for her for Christmas.
He would plant a garden every year
and every year my girls and I would go up
and help him plant the garden,
and then we got to help him harvest the garden!
This was the first year my kids didn’t have
pumpkins from Grandpa’s garden.
We became his daughters,
and he became the only Grandfather
our children ever knew.
I call him Dad.
I am thankful for the rare blessing
of being twice blessed.
November 18, 2012 – Prompt #82: Part 17: The Most Important Day of My Life
It Could Happen To You
Death entered the house…
illusions of a charmed life shattered
as tragedy unfolded slowly.
Death walked the halls
just waiting…
and when he departed
we were relieved, in grief
our love and laughter shown brightest
as we welcomed the release
for him and for us
from the pain.
Life was irretrievably altered
with the realization that anything
can happen …
even to you.
{This poem is in reference to the death of my father. He was diagnosed with a terminal cancer and given three to five years. He lived eleven months and after all the chemo and radiation treatments turned him into a little old man at age thirty-nine, it was with a guilty relief that we said goodbye. I don’t think you can truly understand the relief and the guilt at feeling the relief, unless you have witnessed a love one suffer before dying. Also, at sixteen this is one of my earliest life changing events and one of the most vivid. It’s quite a shock to realize you are not invincible and that bad things can happen even to you.}
There are perhaps too many life altering changes to pick from but I’m feeling the need to balance the dark with the light…
No Manual
With fearful anticipation
we awaited your birth.
Marveling in the changes
you wrought from within.
Then you entered the world
and in a joyful panic
we realized the world
as we knew it, had ended.
We had no desire to give you back
but a manual would have been nice.
We had no clue
what to do with a mini you.
Ten toes, ten fingers
and the largest eyes I’ve ever seen,
and curly dark hair
a gift.
No manual needed for love.
{She just happens to be 15 today.}
November 25, 2012 – Prompt #83: Part 18: Sibling
Nothing in Common
We didn’t look alike –
I had dark brown hair,
her hair was reddish brown;
my eyes so dark, almost black
hers a warm brown;
but Mom liked to buy us
matching outfits.
We are four and half years apart –
When I was a baby,
she was going to kindergarten;
I was learning to walk,
she was reading books;
I wanted to play barbies,
she wanted to play monopoly;
Mother made her play barbies.
Everyone always thought I was the older sister,
going to bars was never a problem for me,
of course my sister never went to bars;
She got married right out of high school
and started producing babies (four of them);
I went on to college, got married
and didn’t have my first baby until almost thirty;
I think I was born with a pen, paint brush and camera in my hand
But it took my sister forty years to find her artistic gene;
She immerses herself in her religion
and shares it daily, with everyone (on facebook of course);
I prefer to keep my religious view private,
comfortable in my own spirituality;
Politics? We don’t discuss politics.
We don’t live nearby, we are states apart,
and if I met her for the first time
at a social gathering, I doubt we would be friends;
And yet, if I needed her, she would come.
For although we have nothing in common
on the outside, within we are the same,
and nothing, absolutely nothing surpasses
our love, our bond, of family first.
December 2, 2012 – Part 19: Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda
One Regret
The words I love so much
were used with stabbing wit –
Cutting deep, while disguised
with mocking smiles
and layers of cloying sweetness.
Sometimes I pulled no punches
laying it plainly on the table,
no disguises, not realizing
brutal honesty is not always best –
With age
you learn you really weren’t so smart or cool,
sometimes honesty with holes is best –
So I can’t erase the words
nor turn time around,
there is no making amends,
all I can do is move forward
putting the knives away
letting the past melt into dust
and hope the words I utter
have no bite to them.
December 9, 2012 – Part 20: Famous Last Words
My Mantra
With life’s little ups and downs
some big ones and eek! Scary clowns,
I have a little prayer that follows me around
which I can chant within my head, no sound.
I’m sure you’ve heard it once before,
it can be found in many a door
and sometimes all I need
is one significant word, my creed.
What is this prayer that holds my hand?
The Serenity Prayer, I think it’s grand.
In a flash just one word will do
‘Serenity’ from me to you.
August 1, 2012 – Timeric
Ill Dreams (Trimeric)
Upon the couch I sat,
out my window perched a bird,
my eyes slowly shut –
I dreamed I had wings.
Out my window perched a bird
who sang a merry song,
he made me smile just a bit
although it caused me pain.
My eyes slowly shut,
as they do quite frequently,
this illness has taken hold,
I feel it may be the death of me.
I dreamed I had wings
the illness fell away,
the pain was in the past
how I wish that was today.
Ill Dreams (Trimeric) revised
Upon the couch I sat,
out my window perched a bird,
my eyes slowly shut –
I dreamed I had wings.
Out my window perched a bird
he made me smile just a bit,
although it caused me pain.
My eyes slowly shut,
as they do quite frequently,
this illness has taken hold of me.
I dreamed I had wings
the illness fell away,
how I wish that was today.
August 8, 2012 – Sevenling
Scooting across the floor,
crawling toward the stairs,
walking through the grass –
running to the front,
skating along the ice,
waltzing down the hall –
keep chasing your dreams.
Sevenling (She thought she heard)
She thought she heard her name
and looked behind her –
no one was there.
The tea kettle whistle blew
and the seconds ticked by –
the phone cradled in her hand.
Death called and she wished she had been out.
Sevenling (Gold drips)
Gold drips from necks
while rebels fight
and politics impinge on our senses –
Birds cry for food
and dogs whine
as the lazy days of summer linger on –
Chores do not get done on their own.
August 16, 2012 – In-Form Poet Wednesday L’Arora
Aurora Borealis
(Dawn’s Dance with the North Wind)
Black skies
filled with
distance diamonds
becomes the canvas
for Dawn’s
merry dance
with the North Wind’s
wild prance.
Dawn dances
across the sky
teasing us
with her beauty,
winking out
only to appear
again, wowing us
land-locked on this sphere.
Then the north wind joins in
and seems to blow
the rainbow hues
of natural light
into a ribbon
that twirls
and bends
like a young girl’s curls.
While we humans
can only watch
with awe
at the dazzling show –
disappointed
only when the curtain falls
longing for another show
before life’s end quietly calls.
August 22, 2012 – Monorhyme
For Robert
Get well
dear Robert and do not dwell
on work left undone as you sit in feverish hell
just rest a spell
just rest each and every cell
all will be well
everything will be just swell.
Dreams Beware
I was floating in the air
with nary a care
when I realized something wasn’t there.
I was beginning to give myself a scare
and people below where starting to stare.
In fact each woman was giving me a glare,
while the men gave me winks with flare;
I began to swear
while hovering in midair,
I was only wearing my hair,
yes, I was completely bare.
Oh lord, prayer.
I would
Make good
If I could
Like Robin Hood
But I am misunderstood
Said the robber with the hood
To the cop, who was good
There once was a czar
With a crazy, long scar
Who bought a star
In a jar
At the local bazzar
“Psst, hey you, I heard
You were looking for a bird?”
“Yeah, on the street, I got the word.”
His words were slurred
and smelled slightly of bean curd
as we conferred
I thanked him for what he overheard
promised to put in a good word
August 29, 2012 PB – The Triquatrain form
Blues
I’ve got new shoes, I have the blues
school starts soon –
my heart goes crazy, I don’t want to be lazy
but I love sleeping ‘til noon.
I have new pens, I’ll see my friends
but oh the sun does beckon
school can be cool, I’m no fool
there are the weekends I reckon.
Six days left, I feel bereft
Summer’s not even done.
I should be happy, instead of sappy
I’m going out to enjoy the sun!
PB Poetic Form Wednesday, October 24, 2012 – Fibonacci
One of my favorite forms!!
Changing Seasons
One
leaf
drifts down,
a final
farewell to my frown.
For as Autumn follows Summer –
goodbye! – the snowflakes start to fall and my frown turns ‘round
as I gleefully grab my gear –
snow season is here!
Starting now
with each
wee
flake.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012 PB – Blitz and PAD – Creepy
Treats or Death
Give some tricks
Give some treats
Treats for me
Treats for you
You sing and dance
You scream and run
Run for your life
Run here he comes
Comes after you
Comes after you with a knife
Knife gleams
Knife drips with blood
Blood drips and drips
Blood drips to the beat
Beat of your running feet
Beat of your heart
Heart beats fast
Heart takes a leap
Leap over stump
Leap over fence
Fence too tall
Fence too long
Long way to run
Long way to home
Home is safe
Home is where you want to be
Be there now
Be there soon
Soon or not
Soon he will catch you
You look behind
You scream again
Again you run
Again you look
Look there he is
Look there is blood
Blood no longer drips
Blood gives you chills
Chills your soul
Chills run along your spine
Spine will break
Spine of steel
Steel can’t break
Steel is strong
Strong enough to fight
Strong enough to beat death
Death is me
Death you fear
Fear
Me
February 3, 2013 – PB – The Children’s Hour – Prompt #93
Get Your Giggles Going
Let’s do a little wiggle
watch that belly jiggle,
then hear the belly laughs
that come from each small giggle!
Make a funny face
I’ll make one back, it’s a race!
My tongue is out, my eyes are crossed
Click! A camera snap, giving chase!
The tickle monster is here
let’s give a little cheer, (cheer!)
as I chase you around the room
your giggles are very near.
I’ve caught you at last
and all you do is laugh and laugh!
It’s the best sound I’ve ever heard
coming from such a little bird!
Get your giggles going!
Jelly Fish Kisses
Jelly fish kisses
and tickle wishes
and toes all in a row
Rainbow lollipops
and sticky kiss pops
and giggles to and fro
Soft, silky ringlets
and warm snuggle hugs
a healthy summer glow
Pockets full of frogs
and bugs on a log
and rocks that are just so
Giggles that tickle
and words that bring laughs
and putting on a show
Kissing little ones
when the day is done
sweet dreams, off you go.
At the Zoo with You
One, two
let’s go the zoo!
Three, four
look at the boar!
Five, six
monkey doing tricks!
Seven, eight
do penguins skate?
Nine, ten
where is Ben?
Oh dear.
Ten, nine
those Hyena’s whine.
Eight, seven
I see swans! Eleven!
Six, five
watch that dolphin dive!
Four, three
let’s let them all free!
Two, one
the day is done.
February 6, 2013 – PB – Chastushka
Working Girl
She liked to dance up on the stage,
sometimes even within a cage.
Catcalls and whistles made her smile
she had a dream, married in style.
February 10, 2013 – So Hey – What’s your prompt? Prompt #94
Artistic Aquarian
I create
words with a message
and paintings with a vision
and photographs with a memory.
I share
what I create in hopes
of inspiring thoughts,
laughter, and feelings.
I love
what I do,
who I have become
and being surround by family and friends.
I need
nature in all her glory,
quiet time with just me
and my lingering memories
I want
to love and be loved
to leave a better world for my children
and chocolate cake.
I am
an Aquarian.
February 13, 2013 – An OVILLEJO
Confectionary Dreams
During the night, a giant hand
passed over the land
gently tapping a sifter can,
sprinkling began
not water but powder falling
a storm stalling
but as the dawn begins crawling
and as we rise out of our beds –
candy coated trees greet our heads.
Over the land sprinkling begins, a storm stalling.
February 17, 2013 – READ IT IN A MAGAZINE – PROMPT #95
Subatomic Calculations Indicate Finite Lifespan for Universe
I’m okay with dying…
When my body is wrinkled
and filled with rusty spare parts;
When I’ve read every drop of knowledge
and what I can’t retain is leaking from my brain;
When I’ve used all the words with eloquence
and they just start falling out of sequence;
When my eyes are dimmed
and I can no longer be inspired by what I see.
Until then…
I’ll be living my life
with all my own parts
and having a knowledge feast
on the words that adhere
to the linguistic threads of my brain
and enjoying the whiplash effect
of visual acuity.
Until then…
I’ll be sowing the seeds
floating on the winds of thoughts
and circulating through time,
hoping the best part of me
has flown through the stars
to distant galaxies
before the sun expands.
I’m okay with dying,
when I’m done living.
Subatomic calculations indicate finite lifespan for universe
By Irene Klotz | Reuters – Tuesday, February 19, 2013 – Yahoo.com
March 3, 2013 – TRUE SILENCE – PROMPT #97
Eclectic Serenity (A Pantoum)
Quite depends upon the occasion
what thing will do the fix,
a mathematical equation
to work out all the ticks.
What thing will do the fix
when you need a bit of peace
to work out all the ticks
you might take a repairing lease.
When you need a bit of peace
I quite enjoy a cup of tea,
you might take a repairing lease
by lounging by the sea.
I quite enjoy a cup of tea,
the quite whispers of the breeze
by lounging by the sea,
though sometimes I tickle the ivories.
The quite whispers of the breeze
sooths my frantic soul,
though sometime I tickle the ivories
or take a little stroll.
Sooths my frantic soul
just to hold your hand in mine
or take a little stroll
also works just fine.
Just to hold your hand in mine,
close my eyes to thoughts –
also works just fine
to loosen all the knots.
Close my eyes to thoughts
a mathematical equation
to loosen all the knots
quite depends upon the occasion.
March 10, 2013 – MEAN WHAT YOU SAY… SORT OF – PROMPT #98
The Awakening of the Poetic Soul
She used words with an aggressive dissipation,
no shards of glass too sharp
for the tender feet of the virgin reader.
Feeling impotent and bewitched by
the forthrightness of her language,
language that was at once mesmerizing and lyrical,
she read on in anticipation,
the words dripping softly
with an intoxication never thought to be achieved
without the use of liquids.
The solution resolved as she read
and as the opaque veil of misunderstanding was lifted
the poetic strings wrapped around her heart
restoring her soul to the fundamental beginnings
of awaken beauty.
March 17, 2013 – GOD’S GREEN EARTH – PROMPT #99
An Ode to ….
Your dark verdant leaves,
your earthy fragrance heaves
into the nether reaches of my mind.
Amongst your stalks
fairy folk give talks
on rainbows and pots that are gold lined.
I like you raw
I liked you cooked with, ah
butter and spices, so refined.
So with a hearty chuckle,
please don’t crack your knuckle,
I am resigned…
to water plants, unwind.
An Ode to … Broccoli
emerald
my eyes reflect the land
at peace
green
the envy crawls the walls
slow death
A Life of Cleanliness
green
I don’t want to drink it
nor breathe it
but I must think it
to keep the land
green
The Stately Queen – a Limerick
There was a bit of emerald green
upon the breast of the stately queen.
She came to have some tea
while gazing at the sea
before dancing like a young colleen.
March 24, 2013 – CELEBRATION OF THE CENTURY – PROMPT #100
In Love with Words
Loving words rolling off the tip of my tongue, tripping
through bouquets of similes and metaphors, while alliteration arrives to
take us to new planes of poetic paradoxes, sipping serenity
and musing over the georgical meadows of a missing spring.
Agog for the arrival of the next day, next chapter
on the carousel of life, striving to be better, kinder
than I ever thought I could be, seeking strength and
words resonating through my soul, chasing mortification out the door.
Celebrating being here, with you, partying with lyrical words, intent
on absorbing the harmony, melodies of the here and now.
April 3, 2013 – The Duo-rhyme
Arriving Naked
A pony comes out fully dressed,
most mammals seem to be so blessed.
So why do humans arrive bare?
They arrive screaming at the air,
not a single wisp of chest hair,
only head hair, does not compare.
Are they wanting something to wear?
Where are their clothes? Seems unfair.
It must be cold, they must be stressed,
to come out bare, to come undressed.
April 7, 2013 – #102 Ekphrastic Poetry – 2013 Photo Prompt #2
Photo by Marjory M. Thompson
Beaten
Lying in the grass
wounded by bullets,
I can only shake my head…
picturing the teenage boys
sitting on their cars,
a few brews between them,
taking shots at the sign –
teenagers making mischief,
feeling empowered by the total lack
of respect for rules and public property.
Imagine my surprise
when a fifty yards down the road
there is a little, white haired old woman
shooting at the “no passing” sign.
I apologize to teenagers everywhere.
Life in the Fast Lane
Life…
a busy, hectic struggle
to get from point A to point B
before anyone else does,
or at least before you’re late.
Disregard
Disregarded on the side of the road
(An old sign)
a reminder
(with limits,)
to slow down,
(we move so fast)
take in the view
(the view is a blur)
enjoy the life we’re having
(as we rush to the next anticipated event)
in the here and now.
(before we’re disregarded and forgotten on the side of the road.)
April 10. 2013 – IN-FORM POETS WEDNESDAY – QUINZAINE
I walk alone among you.
Do you see me here?
Do you care?
(Okay that was totally depressing and totally fictional in case you were wondering. Going to go try a happier one.)
Winter will not leave my side.
Oh where, where is Spring?
Where are you?
(We are suppose to get 8-12 inches of snow tonight and into tomorrow. I’m so done with winter.)
Please eat chocolate every day.
Who says this to you?
Wait. Say what?
Holding the phone to my ear,
they appear. Mom? Mom?
Can I have…?
April 14, 2013 – write a rain poem
Winter’s Long Siege
April rain
gently brings forth
blooming May flowers, green grass
and puts a smile on my face to rival the bright light of the sunshine –
but all I have is
snow.
April 17. 2013 – The pantun Formidable
Cradled gently within her hands
an injured bird with feathers bent.
They swung to the beat of the big bands
moving with grace, as one – they were simply meant.
April 28, 2013 – PROMPT #105. Ekphrastic Poetry – 2013 Photo Prompt #3
By Poetic Bloomings
Photo Credit: Barbara Young
THIS IS YOUR PROMPT. WHAT DOES IT SAY TO YOU?
Thanks to Barbara Young for use of her photo.
Beyond Repair (A Shadorma)
A shell of
her former self, she
was lost in
a field of
gray, a void, she didn’t know if
life was possible.
May 1, 2013 – The Trois-par-huit
Blooming
One tiny
fold peaks out all shiny
and new, slowly unfurling her dress
just for you. What will she be? Can you make a guess?
Iris? Lily? A rose, waiting for your caress.
I can’t wait to see her finished bloom,
she’ll open winter’s tomb –
goodbye gloom.
May 5, 2013 – NOW, THAT’S FUNNY – PROMPT #106
Do You Want to Hear a Dirty Joke?
He asked her if she wanted to hear
a dirty joke while sipping a beer.
“Give it your best shot bud.”
“A pig fell in the mud.”
Cleanest dirty joke to cross my ear.
May 8, 2013 – IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – FLORETTE
Safe Harbor
Weary from a world full of pain,
trembling from the weight of the strain.
Coming home where comfort is sought,
knowing her mask is all for naught, resting her brain
on rosemary scented pillows,
her eyes closed, the curtain billows
and she dreams of laughing again,
dancing with him down in the glen, beneath willows
waving gently in the soft breeze,
close, kissing and with knees to knees.
She wraps her hands tight, to keep him,
feeling him like a phantom limb, can’t let go, please.
May 19, 2013 – PB – write a bad poem
Nonsense
No meter
no rhyme
no chickens
no nickels
dirt between the toes
yes, and freckles
marmalade
May 26, 2013 – PB – get it together – take two different objects/subjects and find a common thread
Chocolate Ankles
“Life is like a box of chocolates…” – Forrest Gump
You never know what life will throw at you next –
It’s a surprise, like the unknown center of a piece of chocolate.
Sometimes life takes you for a smooth ride,
melting away the layers of ignorance with each new experience.
Sometimes the road of life is fill with bumps and pits,
challenging us to complete this moment before moving on.
Sometimes life just is…
sweet contentment from one minute to the next.
Sometimes we get surprises we don’t like (I’m thinking coconut filling here),
like ligaments stretched and sprained in an ankle, requiring rest, elevation and ice.
Slowing us down to a snail’s pace, only to find the sweet surprise of fulfillment,
As more writing and observation is accomplished in a single day compared to the entire last week.
Butterfly Kisses
Poems are like butterfly kisses,
the thoughts and ideas flit and flutter
around in our minds,
until finally landing solidly
in the palm of our hands.
June 5, 2013 – IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – HEXSONNETTA
Lamenting Spring, Aching for Summer
Her arrival is late,
the cold and soggy air
but makes us mad and swear.
Up close to my man, mate –
each night, like a first date,
my soul and body bare.
May, just a lime green haze
with blooms slow to appear
and June barely in gear,
through a drizzle filled daze
look skyward for sun rays,
Summer slowly comes near.
I long for hot, dry heat –
less rain, bare toes, cold treat.
July 1, 2013 – PB LIFE IS A BEACH – ALOHA! (HELLO)
By Poetic Bloomings
July 1st – We begin with a hearty hello. Aloha! as they say on the Islands. Funny word, Aloha! It means both hello AND good bye. It covers you coming and going. But for today we are concerned with the hello aspect of the word.
We’re saying hello to the beach. What are you anticipating from the season? What recollections do you have of a great day at the beach? Maybe you are greeting the summer? Any salutatory opening will suffice. Recall them here and let us join you in saying Aloha!
Aloha
Not a tropical beach
in the equatorial clime;
But a wooded one
in a northern latitude.
A golden orb rises to say hello,
bathing the morning in golden light
and I imagine it’s the same
golden glow on that tropical beach.
And there is no place I would rather be
than here…
greeting the morning and a new day
with you.
July 2, 2013 – PB – a deserted beach
Bliss
A moment alone with you…
the beach.
The gradient hues
of the turquoise sea
calm the soul in my eyes
and the tangy sea spray
clings to my skin
until I feel like an extension of the sea.
Lulled by the cadence of her song
as her jewel encrusted waves
caress the pale pink sand
beneath my painted toes.
With my eyes wide open
I inhale the sight,
the sound,
the smell,
the taste,
and the feel …
of holding a moment of bliss
with just me
and the sea.
July 3, 2012 – PB – abstract poem – a full beach
Beach Rhythms (An Abstract Poem)
Anyone gathers at a bang, bang beach
lapping, lapping, lapping
cold grease slides
in and out, in and out
coconut clouds dance through noses
spitting brine through smiles
serving of leather
lapping, lapping, lapping
ooo eee, ooo ah ah dancing feet
in and out, in and out
talking dogs
spitting brine through smiles
rhythms…bang, bang beach.
July 4, 2013 – Fireworks at the beach
Fireworks
No sight can give me shivers
and make my heart pound,
like the booming of the canons
setting off the fireworks from the ground.
The oo’s and ah’s of my neighbors,
the giggles of delight;
the occasionally scared young cry
are all a part of this magic night.
Whether in a field
or sitting on the shore,
I give thanks for our freedom
as I scour the sky for more.
July 5, 2013 – a swimming poem
Wave Riders
Waiting…
for a wave
to catch
first with their eye,
then with their bodies;
riding the wave
always coming back to me.
July 6, 2013 – PB – a lifeguard poem
On the Surface
A blue bottle on a blue sea,
a bit of plastic so sad to see.
But as it drifts closer in,
we find we are wrong.
No plastic here,
a bit of war
has come to the shore.
Their tentacles pack a nasty sting
and if there was a lifeguard here
he would surely close the beach.
For now they carefully move the bit of war
out of reach.
July 7, 2013 – PB – Sandcastles – a big dream/ambition/or a sandcastle
Just Right
She made a wee castle
surrounded by rocks
and on each rounded turret
were bits of lake weed and rocks.
The highest turret
was crowned with a black snail shell.
Her castle was small and cozy,
perfect for a wee lass
and her family…
imagination reflected in the sands…
she made a wee castle.
July 8 , 2013 – PB – Seaweed/Kelp
Coming Up For Air
Overburdened
struggling, finally cutting free
of the seaweed holding me down;
Feeling as if I’ve broken through the surface
and tasted a fresh gulp of air,
buoyed by the knowledge
my path, for now, is clear.
July 9, 2013 – PB – Boating
The Wind in her Sails
Hot breezes give her rise,
picking up speed
she blows by everyone else
without pause, giving no quarter
gaining momentum,
until a shift in directions
deflates her sails;
flustered, she musters her ropes
to follow,
gaining momentum
once again.
July 10, 2013 – PB – Seagulls/Triolet
Dance of the Seagulls
Seagulls dancing upon the air,
above a moving bed of gems.
Talking, floating with seagull flare,
seagulls dancing upon the air.
Catching their breath, so debonair
picturing in their beaks, a stem…
Seagulls dancing upon the air,
above a moving bed of gems.
July 11, 2013 – PB – Lakes, Oceans and Waterways
Water
I’ve seen the north Atlantic
from both sides of the pond
and while they have a dark and wild beauty
I can’t claim to be overly fond.
The pacific was my home
and I enjoyed her sunny shore,
her tidal pools and sea life
was never a bore.
I traveled down to frolic in the Gulf of Mexico
and while fun, that spot for me, was a definite no.
The most beautiful ocean spot I’ve ever seen
was the vivid turquoise seas
surrounding Bermuda’s tiny scene.
I would go back ten hundred times
but never call it home,
for home lies in the lakes
ten thousand to precise,
with the gentle laps against the shore
and the loon’s haunting call…
here I am at peace
not longing at all.
July 12, 2013 – PB Starry, Starry Night
the moon
and her reflection
follow me home
July 13, 2013 – PB – Lighthouses
Split Rock (Cinquain)
Rocky
shores hidden by
gales of wind, rain and surf
a beacon in the night, stay back
stay safe.
July 14, 2013 – PB Picnic
Reunions
Once a year
we meet
along the Mississippi
to chat and eat.
We catch up on news
while sharing great food,
we play a little bingo
everyone’s in a good mood.
We snap photos
and laugh,
we hold babies
and we eat more on behalf
of those not with us.
The party is over
in the late heat of day,
after snapping that group shot
it’s time we were on our way.
Until next year
we say good-bye
and pick up where we left off
with hardly a blink of an eye.
July 15, 2013 – PB Tides
Soothing the Soul
The rhythmic rolling
of the tides
soothes my lonely soul,
filling me
with a peace inside
of which
I will not let go.
The rhythmic rolling
of the tides
makes me feel a part,
of something
bigger than myself,
it fills
my lonely, little heart.
The rhythmic rolling
of the tides
answers her beck and call,
Mother Nature
knows the best cure for
lonely hearts
is to slowly breach the wall.
The rhythmic rolling
of the tides
simply soothes my soul.
July 16, 2013 – PB – Amusement Parks
Amusement Parks
Up and down
on the Merry-Go-Round,
animals on parade.
Rides galore
screaming for more,
cotton candy on my chin.
The day was fun
but now it’s done,
shuffling home in the dark.
July 17, 2013 – PB – Ekphrasis photo prompt
Photo by Walt Wojtanik
Agates
Where the sand is wet
is where the color pops!
Finding pearly shells
and colorful rocks
but oh! those agates…
their lines smoothed by time, sand and wave.
Rubbing my thumb
over and over
those smooth lines,
like my eyes
over the lines
of a poem…
the lines smoothed by time, eyes and the delete key.
Hoping for an agate
of my own
making.
July 18, 2013 – PB – children
Mermaids
One child
longs to be
a mermaid
in the sea.
Every year
she asks
to go
where the sea
does flow.
At every beach
she builds a castle,
at every beach
she collects the shells,
at every beach
she swims in the swells.
Even when her lips are blue
she’ll want to stay,
so we bury her in the sand
and give her a tail
but she’s still on land.
One child
longs to be
a mermaid
in the sea.
July 19, 2013 – PB – Waves
undulating
rhythms of life
going by
July 19, 2013 – PAD – Cinquain Challenge due July 23rd
(intense physical imagery to create a mood or feeling)
Moon Lit Beach
Gazing…
at crescent peaks
undulating at me,
their rhythms help my anger to fade
away.
Autumn Walks
Beneath
those walking feet
withered leaves crack and crunch,
crisp blue sky, hills of patchwork quilts
fill eyes.
Frozen In Time
Frost clings
to slumbering
trees as the morning sun
rises, the trees begin to weep
relief.
Spring Rains
Springtime…
the mud season,
eight small paws to wipe clean.
Waiting patiently for green grass,
new scene.
July 20, 2013 – PB – Just Another Day in Paradise (Use words: coconut, bamboo, hut, native, clothes, idyllic, palm tree, hungry
On An Idyllic Afternoon (Double Cinquain)
Palm trees
and coconut
ring the beach, a bamboo
mat and a pile of clothes await –
rising
from the
water, a gal
gone native, casually
strolls, enjoying her deserted
playground.
July 21, 2013 – PB – Muscle Beach/Bikini Beach
Excess
If you have it
please feel free to flaunt it
but if you don’t
please just sit.
We have no desire
to see you in a thong
or in a string bikini
miles long.
The purple speedo
on that very old man,
the beer belly
that surely needs a tan.
Resisting age (and gravity)
is all well and good
but some things
are better left
under cover
or perhaps
just for your lover.
July 22, 2013 – PB – A Million Fish in the Sea
You
A million fish in the sea
but you’re the one for me!
I tried out a few:
One was too grasping,
one was too old,
one was a jerk,
one was too bold!
Then I found you
and our story
started to unfold,
a continuing saga,
hopefully…
till we are very old.
A million fish in the sea
but you’re the one for me.
July 23, 2013 – PB – Romance
Love Words
I put a seashell to my ear
expecting the ocean
to be what I hear
but to my surprise
it was your voice
whispering
love words
into my ear.
July 24, 2013 – PB – Suntan/Sunburn (Rondeau) A Rondeau is a French form, 15 lines long, consisting of three stanzas: a quintet, a quatrain, and a sestet with a rhyme scheme as follows: aabba aabR aabbaR. Lines 9 and 15 are short – a refrain (R) consisting of a phrase taken from line one. The other lines are longer (but all of the same metrical length).
Sun Worship
String bikinis tied securely in a bow,
beach towel laid out just so.
Now to layer on the baby oil,
sure hope I don’t boil.
A little breeze could blow…
Beach volleyball with the new beau,
cooling off in the water, back and fro.
I think I’m on a slow broil –
String bikinis
Smore’s on the beach as the day begins to slow,
what a fun day, although
I’m as a red as a lobster, you’d think I wore foil,
too tender to kiss, I’m a bit of a spoil.
So red, my bikini lines look like snow –
Sting bikinis
July 25, 2013 – PB – Collecting Seashells
One Bucket
Sibling rivalry melted away…
bodies crouched,
hair dangling,
they shared each and every find
before placing them carefully
in the bucket –
collecting shells.
Shells
Shells at the seashore or by the lake –
Holding them in the palm of her hand,
Each one so carefully…
Lingering over every detail, as if
Learning to become a master craftsman of
Shells.
July 26, 2013 – PB – Watersports
kayaking a sheet of glass
Loon calls
my only company
July 27, 2013 – PB – Horizons
Ado
I’m on my way
to a land in the north
where the sky is clear
and Fur Elise cannot buzz in my ear.
So, goodbye my good fellows
enjoy the daily grind
I’ll be lying above the rocky beach
swaying in my hammock
as I listen to the loons…
and as the sun sets below the horizon
I’ll think of you – briefly…
sending you a kiss on the wind
as I go back to watching the show,
the Aurora Borealis.
July 28, 2013 – PB – Driftwood
At the water’s edge –
wind and water have smoothed his feathers
and aged his weathered head…
an Eagle soars.
July 29 2013 – PB – Silhouette
Watching the day tuck itself in –
The silhouettes of a father and daughter.
July 30, 2013 – PB – Sunset
The sun sets
behind the cloudy, dust trails
left by her galloping steeds.
July 31, 2013 – PB – Aloha! (Goodbye) (Pantoum)
Aloha!
The time has come to say goodbye
moving on to whatever may come next,
I’ll miss your breathy, evening sigh
but not your mosquito subjects.
Moving on to whatever may come next,
I’ll dream of the calling loons
but not your mosquito subjects.
I wish to see them only in cartoons.
I’ll dream of the calling loons
long after winter has set in,
I wish to see them only in cartoons
until summer can begin.
Long after winter has set in
I’ll miss your breathy, evening sigh
until summer can begin…
the time has come to say goodbye.
August 25, 2013 – A baffled poem
A Baffled Brook
It didn’t bubble and gurgle
as a babbling brook should,
instead it tinkled and dripped
like a leaky faucet would.
We kind of liked the quiet sound
and decided to call it “The Whispering Tinkle”
and we giggled
causing our eyes to wrinkle.
People walked by us,
baffled at our merriment
but smiling just the same.
August 28, 2013 – Dorsimbra
Elephants
A rumble moves my jars across the room,
a horn carries my eardrums out the door.
Fearing my house will soon become my tomb,
I fall and slowly try to cross the floor.
Doors slam,
voices yell,
four hellions
invade my space.
They come to raid my frig and drink me dry
then leave as quickly as they came, slam door,
voices yell and then slowly fade away –
a rumble moves my jars across the room.
September 1, 2013 – working, working, working
labor unrest
the hammer fell silent –
all doors should be locked
September 4, 2013 – Oddquain
“What lies behind you and what lies in front of you, pales in comparison to what lies within you.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
About Face (A reverse oddquain)
One
breathtaking glance in the glass
you realize you
like yourself
now.
“True friends stab you in the front.” – Oscar Wilde
Frontal Assault (a butterfly oddquain)
The
truth has teeth
sharpened on the bone
and blood of our mistakes and
a
true friend will look you in the
eye without flinching,
laying it
down.
September 8, 2013 – Looking forward/ Looking back
Looking Back
Still
in love with
the oddquain format,
she writes an oddquain ode right
here.
“I try to avoid looking forward or backward, and try to keep looking upward.” – Charlotte Bronte
Looking
I seldom look forward
nor do I look back
but constantly up
and to the side
to see what made that song
winding through my ears
and around my heart.
What caused the rustle
which caused my heart
to pick up the pace
and my feet to jig
across the ground.
A stumble
will cause me to look forward and down
for just a moment,
to catch my balance
and then I resume
my love affair
with the world around me.
With my eyes open,
looking…
I’m constantly going forward.
My prbelom was a wall until I read this, then I smashed it.