Love and Anti-Love (Day 8 of PAD)

Flighty

Owl always
love you
no matter
whose nest
you choose.

Doggy Style

Our four paws
always in the way.
I sit.
You stay.

The Day 8 prompt is a two-for-tuesday:

• Write a love poem and/or...
• Write an anti-love poem.

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He’s Past Tense (A Poem for Day 7 of PAD)

After his death, dandelions spread
through the yard like wildfire.
Inside his garden shed,
jugs of industrial-grade vinegar
lined the walls
like soldiers waiting to deploy.
It had become his ritual
after that morning pour over
of double dark decaf—drink up
then slay those weeds birthing
their yellow buds against his wishes.
They didn't belong, he said,
in his garden. They were
unwelcome, unwanted,
had transplanted to his yard
without his permission.
It was his duty to annihilate them
before they spread
their seeds
throughout the neighborhood.
But he became careless,
dousing them
without first donning
his protective gear.
She found him,
arms & legs shooting up
like tender blossoms
reaching for the sky,
his body wedged
between his concrete-block
retaining wall
& the neighbor’s cedar fence,
his red plaid shirt
soaked from the contents
of his vinegar jug.
After his death, dandelions spread
through the yard like wildfire.

The Day 7 prompt is to write a tense poem. 

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The Modern Magi (Day 9 of PAD)

      after “We Real Cool” by Gwendolyn Brooks

[Courtship]

He’s the tops. He
respects walks. He

sows seeds. He
honors creeds. He

spellbinds mobs. He
triumphs hobnobs.

     Until . . .

[Just Married]

He swift reveals. He
slays feels. He

carves cloth. He
stirs froth. He

summons tears. He
conjures fears. We

breathe dread. Innocents
lay dead.

Yes, I missed a couple of days. I've been swamped with work. But I'll get back to those missed days (seven and eight0 eventually. 

Day 9's prompt is to write an ekphrastic poem. Mine is after Gwendolyn Brooks's "We Real Cool."

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Insomnia (Day 6 of PAD)

Router hums
rain flushes
branch scratches
light flashes
breath heaves
cat squirts (diarrhea)
sister squeals
dream of dreams
body pitches
sun rises
eyelids shutter

The day 6 prompt is to write a reaction poem. As a chronic insomniac, I'm familiar with this scene. 

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After Today (A Poem for Day 5 of PAD)

Daily plain
conversation
about air-
planes
lands downstairs.
In the backyard
amidst uninhabited islands
of dirt, flowers, weeds,
a saw whirs,
workers chew
ice cubes,
try not to think about
what could happen
when they leave.

Written for Day 5 of the April PAD Challenge. 

If you like YA, check out If I Could Be Like Jennifer Taylor by Barbara Ehrentreu. 

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A Spotless Record (A Poem for Day 4 of PAD)

You: Made of Snickers
wrappers, nose hair
trimmings, string cheese
shreds, coffee grounds
brimming.

Me: Made of a sucking
hose, swiping rags,
an innocent spray bottle
harboring ingredients
that make others gag.

Day 4 of PAD: Write an unexpected mess poem. 

Need a good book? Check out Carol Early Cooney's blog for book recommendations. 

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Returning Home (A Poem for Day 3 of PAD)

 I find

the voice I hid

under Mother’s afghan.

Written for the April PAD Challenge Day 3. Write a short poem. 

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From Where I'm Sitting (Day 2 of PAD 2025)

I've been writing web content for my day job and practicing short story writing but I haven’t written much poetry in a while. For me, the 2025 April PAD Challenge is about practice, and I'm a bit rusty.

Here is my poem for Day 2:

 

From Where I’m Sitting

Sixteen eyes look away

with nothing

to say.

  

Winds rock & roll

the old bones

of a flowering cherry tree—

an adult before we were born.

Rooms go dark as night

& sixteen eyes

pierce the veil

with nothing to say.

 

Someone somewhere

is locked in a state

of questioning whether

everything he has

he wants.

 

Two states away, young ones

fight abandonment—

punching through days

of self-imposed imprisonments

and directing thrill seekers where to go.

 

The world we once knew

is brand new, strangers shout

rather than smile

& forget that old saying—

when you point a finger

four fingers point back at you.

 

Sun shines through

a window at the end

of a long artificially lit hallway

few want to march down.

 

The sick stay home,

afraid of waiting

rooms where uncertainty

festers.

 

Five years past

we entered a foreign world

where microorganisms,

invisible to the naked eye,

held the power to take down

the world.

 

I remind myself—

little random acts still matter

as long as they reek

of kindness.

 

Sixteen eyes look away

with nothing

to say.

You can also fllow along with one of my favorite poets on her blog 

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Feeding Needs (A Poem for Day 1 of the April PAD Challenge)

We eat moldy bread—

free penicillin,

we say.

Never mind allergic

reactions from the real thing—

it's better than tossing it away,

better, we say

than having nothing at all,

better, we say, yes better.

We forage

in each other’s eyes

for that day—

the better one (we recall all those days).

We say, nothing is better than eating

nothing

with you

if there's nothing
to eat

we eat moldy bread.

Breaking Moldy Bread Can't Break Us

Happy poetry month!

* * * 

On Book Judging and Writer's Digest

I've been busy, though I'm still writing. I have a piece up on Writer's Digest about entering book contests if anyone is interested.

I do miss posting poetry. 

Have you published something lately? Feel free to post it in the comments. 

* * * 

What’s in the Garden?

He asked to be scattered
among her forget-me-nots—
now she finger-rakes
dust & dirt in hopes
of a rebloom—

For today's prompt, take the phrase "What (blank)," replace the blank with a new word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles might include: "What Are You Doing Here," "What a Great Time," "Whatever You Say," and/or "What Kind of Poem Are You Going to Write?"

So make a decision: Is your "what" poem leading to a question or a statement (or maybe both?).

* * * 

At the Park

Things that fall
away—g-
               litter
sw-       -gs
      -in-
friend-
          ships—

For today's prompt, write poem using at least three of the following six words:

1. Bow
2. Lean
3. Park
4. Saw
5. Tear
6. Wound

For extra credit, use all six words.

Also, feel free to try actually writing a six-word poem if you want (no need to use any of the above words if you go this route, though you could go nuclear and write six six-word poems, each using one of the above words. Any takers?).

* * *

A Quickie

Eyes met / sparkled & gleamed

swept
           us 

                into
                      next meet

(but you
             don’t
                      need—
                               those deets)

For today's prompt, we have our third two-for-Tuesday prompt, which means you get two prompts, and they are: Write a love poem. Write an anti-love poem.

* * *

Snakey Wakens

It’s that time of year
when sidewalks   slither to life,

They sneak through
their surroundings   make silent escapes,
stand their ground   practice
ambush predation   leave
joggers shaken
at the ankles   constrict airways
of the innocent.

It’s that time of year
when sidewalks   slither to life,

Watch your step.

For today's prompt, write a nerve poem. Some folks are nervous; others have some nerve; still others seem to get on everyone's nerves. We all have a nervous system, and well, my nerves aren't wracked worrying that everyone will figure some way to poem out of this prompt.

* * * 

The Silence of Grief

Broken only by the repetitive
song of a lone robin
reminding me—
life goes on.

For today's prompt, take the phrase "The (blank) of a (blank)," replace the blanks with a new word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles might include: "The Beginning of a Story," "The Wrong Side of a Situation," "The Apple of an Eye," and/or "The Latest Excuses of a Continuing Problem."

* * * 

Funeral at Dusk

I don’t know why   my love
resides
     inside
that cubbyhole,
     if I’ll take it (or him)
     with me
     when I go,
if my love   can penetrate
the shade
that now remains,
     if I’ll survive
     this gloom
     he left
     behind.

 

For today's prompt, write a shadow poem. Some people are afraid of shadows (even their own), but others like to lurk there. There are shadow governments, shadowy characters, and well, just shade (which is super nice in Georgia during the summer).

* * * 

Misunderstood

She said she missed me, 
so I apologized. Teared-up my eyes
until she came outside, bow &
arrow in hand, took aim, made
me realize—
I’m no good at reading
people.

For today's prompt, write a forgive poem. The poem could be about forgiveness in general, or it could focus on a specific instance of forgiveness or grace. There are times when we are called upon to forgive others, and times when we ask others to forgive us. And sometimes that includes forgiving ourselves. Be forgiving as you poem today.

* * * 

Childhood Bedtime

something dripping
paper ripping
toilet flushing
teeth brushing
clock tick ticking
foot tickling
kiss on the cheek
school starts next week—
so giddy they can’t sleep
     oh to be young
                —again. 

For today's prompt, write a sound poem. On day six, we wrote poems that smelled; today, let's write poems that play off sound. This could be a poem filled with rhymes or alliteration, but it could also be about listening to sounds that are being made.

* * * 

Count, Measure, Label

Today I wore
no socks
to the mailbox 
when Pacific Northwest
earth 
squished between 
my toes.

Your letter is long
     overdue.
Rumor has it
you sent it last week
in 1983
when the average
monthly rent was $335
& there were
     no tents
on the sidewalk.

I've traveled the world
in your pocket, the stick
     long lost
from that worn-out
postage stamp (at a measly
     cost
of twenty cents).
 
Something tells me you lied
or lost it.
Me—easily 
forgotten like those
who’ve given up. 

Yet me?
I’ve not forgotten
     you—
I just can’t help
but focus
     now
on skyrocketing rent
that’s brought defeat,
made tents
the only option
     for some,
sleep,
a mailbox
& a stamp
all foolish treats.

For today's prompt, write a number poem. You can include a number in the title of the poem, or drop a number somewhere in the middle or end of the poem. Count sheep, poem by numbers, or share 10 ways to write a poem. There are any number of ways to come at this one.

* * * 

A Matter of Perception

—fun-size candy bars (small when you’re craving a king)
—the 8 oz. drink (big except when it’s 110°)
—your salary (small after deductions)
—slice of tuxedo cake (small if you’re dieting)
—the local gossip (small but thinks she’s big)

For today's prompt, write a small poem. Yesterday, you were tasked with writing a smell poem, but today, we're going small. The poem itself could be concise, but it could also be focused on something or someone small.

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