Still Life of Starbucks - a Poem

Love over Coffee at the Beach

Still Life of Starbucks

Most people recognize where mermaids
skinny-dip underneath that famous
circular ridge crowned by coffee-
stained footprints (or sometimes
     monofin smears) to the melody
of barista love promises (that often
     bring tears). It’s served anytime
at B degrees, with a star
     and an un-
         determined number
of bucks on the side. A tight
seal holds its stormy contents
and the aroma of home
     within, while the ebony
liquid upsurge laps at craggy
tongue’s shore. Petite enough
to fit in a pocket or
the palm of a hand, but
     take heed. The number three
and a warning the contents
are too hot is largely ignored
by sleepers enchanted
     from the song
of the sirens, seeking only
a morning caffeine fix before
swimming to shore to start
a workday based not in fable,
but in the modern-day world
where they think 

     mermaids
       don’t 

         exist. 

***

The Pleasure Garden - a Poem for Day Thirty of PAD

I skipped day twenty-nine. If I wind up writing something, I will post it later. For now, here is the prompt for day thirty of the PAD Challenge:

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “The (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles could include: “The Poets,” “The Good Guys,” “The Bad Guys,” “The Last Thing She Said,” and so on.

Even the Garden Statues Come to Life

The Pleasure Garden

Undetected fairy wings 

     twitch
under my footsteps
and an itty-bitty
cracked crystal ball
     reads
my future,
but I’m too busy
     getting by
to notice.

Mossy dreadlocks
     swing
in the trees above me
while flying ants
     police
the grounds,
     handcuff
me in lotus pose,
hold me captive
for rainbow
shield bugs
     to cleanse
my chakras.

Somewhere
off in the distance,
a brownish-grey
mourning dove
     coos
my name,
begs me
to stay, set
an example,
gather debris,
plant seeds, help
     heal
the thicket,
teach all futures
to love and hold
it in 

     high
esteem.

***

You Smell Like Bubble Gum - a Poem for Day Twenty-Eight of PAD

Here is the prompt for day twenty-eight of the April PAD Challenge:

For today’s prompt, write a poem about a smell. Similar to Day 6’s prompt about writing a poem about a sound, today’s prompt involves thinking about the various good and bad smells that fill the world. Pick one smell (or a variety, I suppose), and write a poem.

Some Things Remind Me of That Bubble Gum

You Smell Like Bubble Gum

Sometimes
when I try to write,
I smell that bubble gum
I hid in my closet
in the house
where I grew up.
I remember feeling lucky. 
You’d given it to me
for Christmas
when I was sixteen.
I hadn’t seen you in years
when you made
that surprise visit
and handed
me a gift. I carried
that present upstairs
like a newborn, pondering
what lay swaddled
underneath the paper.
I ripped it open
and found gumballs
lined up side by side
like soldiers at rest.
I popped one
into my mouth
and was taken back
to our bowling alley
field trip
where the vending machine
shot out chewing gum
like bullets
from a machine gun.
It took me a year
to chew all that gum.
With each fruity ball I rolled
between my teeth, I wondered
when you’d roll back into my life.
I never got that lucky. 
The next time I saw you,
your casket reminded me
of that bubblegum
box. 

***