Category Archives: Poetry

Breaking Point

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I had a break with life one day,
Or over many years-
But in a moment hit the brake
With whiplash to the fears.

You might call it an accident
With consequences sore,
Yet I soar with the Spirit now
And couldn’t ask for more!

There’s poor and there are destitute
Who own a mansion grand
And can’t pour out their bless’ed gifts
To lend a helping hand.

So when you’re at the breaking point,
Fear not for mind and soul!
The sole result of braking free
Is standing tall and whole!

—
Written for Lillian’s Poetics prompt at dVerse,
Homophone Me!

It Ain’t Me

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“It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for,”*
No matter what you say.
You’re lookin’ for an actor’s part
I’m not equipped to play.

“It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for”
In everything you do.
You’re lookin’ for distractions brief
TO fill the void in you.

“It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for,”
Despite your whirling mind.
You’re lookin’ for the brilliant Light:
Your soul’s eternal shine!

*Quote from
“It Ain’t Me Babe” by Bob Dylan.

—
Written for Björn’s prompt at
dVerse.

Junk Mail

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I got mail today
and it was junk.

One from an insurance agency
that has no idea what it would be like
to “insure” me anything! 😀

The other was a credit card offer…
“You’re pre-approved!” it proclaimed
in huge letters,
not knowing the slightest thing
about whom it was proclaiming… me! 😀

I got mail today
and it was junk,
double junk even.
It wasn’t bills,
requests for money,
sweepstakes offers,
or loud advertisements.

It was junk
and required no action.

Now if that isn’t something to celebrate,
one of those tiny miracles we too rarely acknowledge,
Then I don’t know what is!

Come on, join me!
Celebrate your junk mail today
and be happy!

If by chance
you didn’t get any snail mail today,
not one single slip of paper,
well, isn’t that a good thing, too?

So celebrate that!

—
Written for Walt’s celebration prompt at
dVerse.

A Clouded Plate

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The reign of our food
is clouded with foes.
I won’t dig into
the cons and cheap pros
or theories that spread
like diseases and woes.
Just one simple question:
Do we care to know
and feed ourselves fully,
so good things may grow?

—
A Quadrille using the word “cloud” (clouded here) written for
dVerse.
Please drop by and read other poems as beautiful and diverse as their poets!

Related

Feed Your Body and Mind

Arranged

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Photos so neatly arranged in albums
tell the story we want to remember
of life, of love, of laughter…

The problem is:
the photos are staged.
“Now look here!”
“Smile!”
“Say cheese!”
“Stop pinching your brother!”
“Don’t make bunny ears behind your sister’s head!”
Staged, I tell you,
more than a play ever was,
is,
or will be.

Because after all,
photos do not tell the truth,
no matter how consciously arranged.
They only tell
the story we want to remember.

—
Written for
dVerse,
not in response to the photos posted, but to the theme of arranging things.

Taking Flight

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If only those with feathers fly,
Then why do airplanes cross the sky?
And why are kites allowed to soar?
There must be something… so much… more!

If only those with wings take flight,
Then why do stars shoot through the night?
And why are minds allowed to probe?
There must be more… we can behold!

If only those with feathers lift,
Then why the heart with tender wish?
And why the prayer without a word?
There’s always More… The soul is heard!

—
Written for Victoria’s prompt,
Come Fly with Me-dVerse Poetics.

The More Strings Change

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I changed my guitar strings today. It wasn’t “time.” I mean, they weren’t dull-sounding, frayed, rusted, or going out of tune. In fact, they sounded great! But they felt like barbed wire cutting into my fingers! Just because someone recommends something, doesn’t mean it will work just as well for me. So I swapped them for my favorite, softer, silk-wrapped strings. They still sound great, even with a little less volume. But the experience is much better. You see, the more strings change, the more they play the same.

spiral in and out
seasons, relationships, life
constant as they change

—
Written for the last-for-now Haibun Monday prompt at
dVerse.

Two Clerihews

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Yogi Bear, for a pic-i-nic basket,
Always took and didn’t ask it.
He saved ol’ Jellystone, I heard;
So guess “forgiven!” is the word!

Pippi, Anne Shirley, Annie so free;
The red heads take the cake, you see.
But they are quite a feisty lot.
I ought to know – red hair I got!

—
Written for
dVerse
(for better or worse…) Clerihew prompt. Please read the others! Many amazing poems over there that do the form justice!