A Quickie About My Poetry

I have three poems out today in Message in a Bottle. I invite you to stop by for a read if you have a minute.Thank you!

It's summer. I have some playing to do. Have a wonderful day!

Beach Love

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I Miss You

I wrote this somewhere else. Maybe it was a Facebook status. I can't remember . . .

Switching to a quarterly schedule for my literary magazine has not meant less work. It has meant more. It's good though; it's keeping me challenged. 

However, I've had little time for writing poetry. I scribbled the poem below while I was waiting at a red light, watching a group of trees sway in the wind.

Moonlit Shadow

Silhouettes

Shadows of summer
sycamore trees play lonely
game of tag, tap, tapping each
other with wind gustiness,
game of catch, leaves
in flight, waiting, wondering
where your shadow
amuses yourself now
without them, beneath
them, now that they cannot
see you

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Bitter Memories

See? Here I am with my Day 6 poem for the prompt, "bitter." (If you read my poem post early this morning for Day 7, you know what I'm talking about.)

Drink Me

Bitter Memory Potion

Take a spoonful

of memory, hold
your nose, swallow
without a gag, wash
it away with gob-
let of tears, swish
around aftermath
of releasing clutches
the holds have on you,
sweeten future with a dash
of foggy morning, running
shoes stumbling on
their way to fresh bitter-
sweets, swallowing
it all away to empty.

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What Makes You Tremble?

It's late. I'm tired. I'm out of order. Well, not me. My poeming. (I skipped Day 6, but will get back to it later.)

The below poem is for the day 7 prompt, tremble.  

Soul Mates

Generally Speaking

Every girl hungers for that
man who makes her self-
less, forgets that she
is human, brings her home

to her soul. Every girl
craves the brush
of scratchy bad-boy
stubble upon her inn-

ocent thighs, the man
who pens her love notes
in his sleep, the man sleep
breaks away from, spirit 

out scouting sultry
energy. Every girl
wants a man burned in-
to her mind, primal touches

flaring fires on her
routines, forgetting all except
his anguish at her absence.
Every girl wants that man. 


[Obviously, not every woman wants this. But tonight, this is how I roll.]


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Crushed

Sad news brings me back to those feelings again. Ugh. Now that I'm nearing 50, I guess it will be a regular event from now on. Getting out the yuck and then moving on. 

The below poem was written for the Day 5 prompt, "crush."

He'll Get Us All Eventually

Death Crush

There’s no time for deals
when he knocks on your door,
waiting to serve papers, deliver
your soul to Heaven
or Hell, scrape what is left
of what now means nothing
to you, laugh at the ones
he torments when you leave
them behind.

*****

Fit for a King

This is my creation for the Day 4 prompt, "Fit for a King."

Little Prince

Defiant Prince Throws a Fit for a King

Without tipping his head, 
his fists flew in the air, 
he smashed his slippers 
into some sort of flare, 
his face went from pouty 
to gristly and then eight
shades of red. And all
this fight merely
for his right to stay

out of bed. 

*****

The Color of Love

This is my Day 3 project for the "30 x 30 Challenge" with Khara House. The prompt today was "red" and since the creative medium is open, I was inspired to make a book.

It didn't turn out as I envisioned because I ran out of time, so consider this a mini-version or a prototype. (I wanted haiku inside where the single words are.)

I had fun putting "read" on the back to complement the word "red" on the front cover. 

What does the word "red" make you think of?

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Dreaming of Sleep (Again!)

This month, I am participating in the 30 x 30 Day Challenge with Khara House. Her prompt for June 2 was "slumber." How appropriate considering I am not seeing much of it these days. 

No Sleep When Your Eyes Won't Close

Dreaming of Sleep

Oh slumber could save
me from waking daze
I reside in, sleep-
walking through time, day
and night jumbled
into one long trail stretching
behind me, lumbering
through ups and downs no sleep-
less can free me from

*****