Flavor of the Week

just one touch
of your scorching
velvet tongue
sends me melting
against your lips,
coolness fading
in the presence
of your heat,
what you don’t consume
left in a vanilla puddle
on the sidewalk
as you move on
to sample the next flavor.


~~~~ This was written in response to a prompt from Theme Thursday asking for poems about ice cream.

Laying Poetic Tiles

© Daryl Edelstein

I scrape the barnacles from the hull of life
And shards of humanity fall around me…
Brittle words from the tongues
Of austere women sipping their tea,
The recollections of flinty old men
Drenched in yesterday’s glory,
The simple joys of sidewalk chalk drawings,
Winding roads and long lingering kisses.
I gather the fragments close to my heart
And draw them into my creative cocoon,
Burnishing the rough edges,
Mixing feelings and phrases in a blur,
Binding them together
In my own quirky view of the world
To be shared by those willing to read.


~~~ This poem was written in response to a prompt from Imaginary Garden with Real Toads featuring the photography of Daryl Edelstein, specifically her photos of the mosaic art of Isaiah Zagar.  I also utilized this week's word list from The Sunday Whirl and the prompt from Carry on Tuesday.  Be sure to check out the links for some more great poetry!

Rider Beware

This ride may be hazardous
To those with weakened hearts.
Proceed at your own risk.
Please keep your hands and feet 
Inside the car at all times, 
Hang on, 
And enjoy the ride.


You lured me in
With your street hustle charm.
We both played our roles well,
The puppet master and Mary-onette,
I was jerked around at your whim,
My strings twisting in your grasp,
A dizzying dervish spin,
A maelstrom of uncontrolled chaos
Spiraling toward emotional catastrophe.
I’m tired of the vertigo,
The nausea that will not cease,
Unwilling to strap in
For another trip through your insanity.


Please remain seated 
As this Mary-go-round 
Comes to a complete stop
And proceed to the nearest exit.
Ride over, 
Closed indefinitely.

~~~ This poem was written in response to a prompt from over at dVerse Poets Pub asking for poems about fairs.

Through the Pain

Expression of Pain by MyBurningEyes @ deviantART

Pain is an unwelcome invader,
a parasite injected into my body
at the point of a hypodermic needle,
spreading through my flesh
infecting my whole existence,
leaving me a hostage
to its greedy appetite,
isolated from the wooded canyons I love,
ending nights spent swaying
in half-light in strong arms.

Pain burns with white hot heat
consuming the life I thought I would live,
I suffocate in its tormented touch.
Isolated from those
who don’t understand,
who think I’m
faking
      lazy
            crazy
                  fat
                        looking for a fix

Pain is the monster
lurking beneath my bed
interrupting my sleep
as I struggle to shift weight,
the sweetest dreams providing no refuge.

Pain haunts my faltering steps,
a burden I carry with me
      every moment
            every place.
an inexorable condemnation
with no prospect of reprieve in sight.
Dishes
            dinner
                  laundry
                        even a simple walk to the mailbox
becomes a Herculaneum task
leading to tears and torture.

Pain wraps its scaly tentacles around me,
writhing through my body
constricting my mind.
I inhale its essence
with each breath
and my anger grows
bile burning my throat
in reluctant acceptance
knowing that the pain is inescapable.


~~~ This poem was inspired by a prompt from dVerse Poets Pub asking us to write a stream-of-consciousness poem.

Facing the Sun

A massive stillness envelopes his mind,  
A secret grief that lives in his marrow.
Through the window of memory
He still catches glimpses of her,
The scent of rosehips in her facial cream,
The clattering colors of her crocuses
Poking their resilient faces
Through the snow to face the sun,
But he does not recognize the woman
Who shared his bed for fifty-two years,
Who now visits his bedside
In the advanced care center daily,
Who still hopes that perhaps
Life will hand her husband
One more chance to flower
And face the sun.


~~~This poem was written in response to this week's prompt from The Sunday Whirl.

Dear Bully

Bullies by Lacey13 @ deviantART

Actions have consequences…
I’m a shadow from your past,
Faceless and forgotten,
But I remember you.
You turned that playground
Into your own private torture chamber,
Acid words thrown in the faces of the weaker,
Indelible scars time can never erase.
I was no threat to you.
I had no control over how I looked,
The neighborhood where I lived,
The money my family didn’t have.

Actions have consequences…
Do you even realize the havoc you caused?
Your voice echoed through my mind for years,
Leaving me damaged and vulnerable,
Easy prey for a much more vicious type of bully,
Whose brand of psychological terror
Made you seem like an amateur.

Actions have consequences…
I know the price I’ve paid for yours.
It would be so easy to hate you,
To wish you the kind of anguish
I’ve lived with all these years,
To continue the circle of cruelty,
But I won’t.
This ends now.

Actions have consequences…
I know I can sleep peacefully tonight.
What about you?

~~~This was written for a prompt over at Poetry Jam asking for poems about bullying.

Truth in Advertising

A
Wedding
Ring needs a
Warning label:
Marital bliss is never guaranteed.


~~~~ Written for a prompt from over at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads , introducing us to the tetractys.

Sweet Nothings

Babycakes,

Studmuffin,

Cookie,

Gumdrop,

Punkin,

Lambchop,

Peachy pie,

Honeybunch,

Buttercup,

Peanut,

Candy girl,

Sugar lips,

Puddin’,

Apple of my eye…

Is any wonder love often devours us?

~~~ Another poem written for the prompt over at Poetic Asides asking for dessert poems.

In the Dark Forest

An ancient evil
Lurks here,
Wandering amongst
Gnarled oak and cypress,
     Waiting,
          Circling,
               Hunting
For a lost traveler,
A weary soul
To serve as easy prey.
Darkness masks its steps,
A moonless night
Perfect camouflage.
     Relentless,
          Pervasive,
               Enveloping all
In its unyielding grasp,
A caterwauling demon
Whose cries
Induce terror
In the bravest heart.


~~~Written for this week's prompt over at Poetry Jam, which asked the question, "Where is your forest?"

A Birthday Question

If birthdays are mandatory,
Can we at least
Remove the calories
From birthday cake?


~~~ Written for a prompt from Poetic Asides asking for dessert poems.  This is also for the In Form Poet prompt at Poetic Bloomings introducing us to the naani.  You can find out more information about that form by following the link.

Dreams of Tuscany

Last night I dreamt of Tuscany
Like many nights before,
My frail heart seeking refuge
On that crystal azure shore.

The streets and land are foreign
But I feel that I belong,
For I know that he’ll be waiting
With his guitar and his song.

He whispered, “Cara mia”
With an intimate embrace,
His dark eyes so familiar
But his smile I can’t quite place.

He sings his simple love songs
In a tongue that I can’t claim.
When translating the music,
The emotions still the same.

He leans in for a tender kiss
As night is fading fast.
He plays a final song for me,
One I know will be the last.

He sings “Con Ti Partiro”
As he fades into the mist
And I wake up holding nothing,
Lips still trembling from his kiss.


~~~ The poem was inspired by the prompt from Carry On Tuesday this week (yep, the second one from this prompt) which was "Time to Say Goodbye," the English translation for the title of the Italian song "Con Ti Partiro."  I will also be linking this up with dVerse Poets Pub for Open Link Night.

Greeting the Goddess

Wrapped in the chains of expectation
And the intractable whims of others,
A lost wanderer struggling through
The morass of my daily existence,
I’ve squandered opportunities
To drink of glory, of victory,
Talents relegated to obscurity,
Forced to conform by my own insecurities.

It is time to say goodbye
To my indigenous doubts,
The string of demons that visits
Only to dampen my spirits
And fill my eyes with elaborate deceptions
Meant to further impede my faltering footsteps.
No longer will I tremble
In the face of the rituals of despair.
I will live my life with intention,
Significance placed on the journey ahead,
Not the immensity of the mountain I must climb.
I will keep on until I plant my sacred flag on the summit,
Embracing the goddess that dwells within my soul.


~~~ This poem was written in response to several prompts...the prompt from Carry On Tuesday this week was "Time to say goodbye."  I also used this week's words from The Sunday Whirl and Three Word Wednesday.

Reading Myself Home

Home for me has always been
Walled in dusty book jackets,
Captured on musty yellowing pages.
I leapt through the looking glass
With Alice, finding a kindred spirit
In search of escape to a happier land.
I spent hours in the garret
Sitting next to Jo as we both
Dreamed our literary dreams.
I stood beside Dorothy
On her tentative first steps
Down the yellow brick road.
I chased penguins through the basement
And jumped through sidewalk drawings.
I juggled a fish, a dish, a cake, and a rake
With Sally and Conrad on a rainy afternoon.
I searched the back of the wardrobe
Looking for a magical passage,
Seeking an audience with Aslan.
Even as an adult I still check
Each dewy morning spider web
For a friendly message from yesterday,
Knowing that whenever I feel
The urge to travel back home,
I only need turn the page.

~~~ This poem was written for a prompt offered up over at Poetic Bloomings asking us to write a poem about home.  Also linked up for Open Link Monday over at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads.

Wrinkles

© Peggy Goetz: Village Midwife, Mountains of Honduras

the lines on her face 

a symbol of pride 

wisdom and knowledge 

memories etched in flesh 

for the world to see

~~~This poem was written in response to a prompt from Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads featuring the photography of Peggy Goetz, who blogs over at On a Day Like Today.  Be sure to check out her poetry and photographs.

Maurice and his Magic Pen

Maurice Sendak, 1928-2012

He sent our imaginations
Out on a grand adventure,
Dancing with wild things,
Conjuring little monsters,
But my affection resides
In the life you gave to a Little Bear
Off on his first gentle wanderings,
Exploring the wide world
While keeping a mindful eye on home.

Rest well, Maurice.
I’m sure you’ll find
As you return home
From your own grand adventure
That your supper is waiting
In the bedroom, still hot.


~~~This poem was written in response to a prompt from dVerse Poets Pub asking us to draw inspiration from celebrated author and illustrator Maurice Sendak, whose work has captivated several generations of children.

Poetic Troubleshooting

Loading poetry program…

Unable to access mental hard drive at this time.

System needs upgrade in memory
(sorry, too proprietary, no new components available)

Reboot system…
(ok, waiting)

Error:  Request is valid but system refused to respond.
Error: Limited or no connectivity to your muse.
(yeah, tell me something I didn’t know)

Defrag to reallocate creative sectors.

Reboot system…
(again, really?)

Error: Cannot create output poem.
Error:  Permission Denied.
Temporary error, try again later.
(at least it’s not the blue screen of death)

~~Written for a prompt from dVerse Poets Pub asking for poems about machines and technology.

Big Daddy

Where have you gone, big daddy?
Why have you left me here alone?
Where have you gone, big daddy?
Why have you left me here all alone?
Trying to go on without you baby
Has turned my lonely heart to stone.

You promised you’d always be here,
Why’d you have to up and leave?
Oh, you promised you’d always be here,
Why’d you have to up and leave?
I believed every word you said to me,
Never thought you would deceive.

My days have been filled with misery
And my nights have been filled with tears.
My days have been filled with misery
And all my nights have been filled with tears.
Instead of the warmth of your embrace,
I find myself wrapped up in fears.

I’m so tired of feeling let down,
So tired of feeling betrayed.
Oh yeah, I’m so tired of feeling let down,
So tired feeling betrayed.
It’s time to let go of this heartache,
Time to let go of the love we made.

I don’t care where you’ve gone, big daddy,
And I hope you don’t come back again.
I don’t care where you’ve gone, big daddy,
And I hope you never come back again.
This game is over, big daddy,
And this time Mama’s gonna win.

~~This was written for this week's prompt over at Poetic Bloomings asking us to make the title of our poem the name of a favorite TV show or movie.  Big Daddy is actually not a favorite of mine, but as I was considering titles from my movie collection, a sort-of bluesy lyric popped into my head.  I may not always understand my muse, but I've learned to follow her when she starts running!

Unseen

No one saw her cobalt blue memories
Align with her emerging depression,
A vortex of sadness engulfing her,
Hooks sunk deeply into her soul,
The gaping sores that dot her mind,
Oozing poison through her days,
The demons swirling around her
An invisible barrier separating her
From the rest of the world.

No one saw her foundation
Begin to falter and vibrate,
The grind of the emotional weight
Giving the demons more power,
Not a wink of hope left in her world,
Any clear chance of redemption fading.

We saw what she wanted us to see,
Her illusion contrasting with actuality,
Her deception firmly imprinted on us.

And her final act?
No one saw that coming either.

~~ This was written for my own debut prompt over at Poetry Jam (be sure to pop over and check it out!) and also made use of this week's words from The Sunday Whirl.

The Cracks in the Pavement

Roadside_by_patu

I love the feel of a familiar road,
The cracks in the pavement
Telling the stories of the wanderers
Who cruised in their DeSotos and Hudsons,
Mustangs and Corvairs,
Seeking all the adventure life had to offer;
Each elm and pine leaning in from the ditch banks
An old friend wishing this traveler well;
Comfort rolling beneath my wheels.
But when the road leads into the misty unknown,
I find myself wishing for a sense of direction,
A mystic map to guide me,
Signs to warn me of dangerous curves,
Falling rocks and other highway hazards.
Let me find the courage
To park my fear alongside the road
And continue my own journey,
In hopes that one day
The cracks in the pavement
Will tell future travelers
The stories of this wanderer
And the adventure life held in store for her.


~~~ This poem was written in response to Kerry's Wednesday Challenge - On the Road over at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads and the Thursday Think Tank at Poets United prompt of "wish."

My Poetic Secret (Now Everybody Knows)

I just can’t write a villanelle,
Sestinas make me queasy.
Sonnets send me to metered hell.
Who said that writing was easy?

Sestinas make me queasy
With their strictly fashioned style.
Who said that writing was easy?
My mood is growing more hostile.

With their strictly fashioned style
Poetic forms just make me curse.
My mood is growing more hostile.
I miss the freedom of free verse.

Poetic forms just make me curse.
Sonnets send me to metered hell.
I miss the freedom of free verse.
I just can’t write a villanelle.


~~ Written for a prompt at Poetry Jam asking us to take inspiration from the phrase "Everybody knows."  Also posted for the in-form poem prompt asking for a pantoum over at Poetic Bloomings.

Vacuum

if nature
abhors a vacuum
then muses
with magic
words of inspiration should
be flooding my brain.



~~ Written for a prompt from Poetic Asides asking us to write a vacuum poem.