Written for The Mag #235
Dark Harbor, 1943
Looks like Joseph was right.
there must be millions
of smelts. Follow the seagulls’
flight, and that is right where
you will grab a good haul.
Water in the harbor is blue-
black on this nearly moonless
night. I would rather be
at home with my wife and kids,
but times are hard. Who knows
when this war will end.
Written for The Sunday Whirl #176
Words: serve, collaborate, listen, community, concerns, State, time, decades, care, chat, compromising, contact
Louie, the Lip? Yeah.
Some snitch tipped off
the cops. State got ‘em
He says they framed ‘em.
But, he’s doin’ time–coupla’
of decades now. Listen,
Jimmy Boy, you take care.
Don’t ya dare put yourself
in any compromisin’ positions.
I was lucky to get off
with community service,
but I got concerns about you.
Ya gotta learn that ya can’t be
chattin’ up any known felons.
Stay well kid. I’ll be in contact.
Written for: Creative Bloomings #165, “The View From Here”
You are swinging your child or grandchild in the park on a crystal clear day. Write a two stanza poem. The first stanza, from the child’s point of view; the second from the adult’s view.
“Higher, Grandma, higher.”
She doesn’t push me
as hard as Dad. I bet
next time Dad swings me,
I could reach right up
to that big bear cloud.
Oy, I hope she doesn’t fall
off that swing. It does not
look so sturdy to me. Eh,
what do I know from swings.
Who had swings in the old country.
Written for: Carpe Diem #548, Traveler
We journey far
on outer roads, and within
How much do you see?
Written for: Carpe Diem #547, Flame
A flame of shame
burns across many nations
Does no one wish peace?
Written for: Margo Roby’s Poem Tryouts
I had promised a pot luck day, today, so you may happily browse the Net for a painting, or a photograph that yells ‘Helloooo!” as you go by. Or, you can look at the photograph I will post for those with no Net time this week and see what it sparks.
Credit: Jon Bertelli
If you wait much longer
to notice me, I will
be gone, vanished
to a doggie limbo.
I need to play,
and take more walks.
Why did you take me
in, if you are going
to ignore me. Tomorrow,
you will only see my ears.
This is your wake-up call.
Written for Poetic Asides #277
For today’s prompt, write a malfunction poem.
A consensus was reached
at the yearly meeting
of American Appliances.
The stove volunteered to falter
first, followed, one month
to the date, by the refrigerator,
shuddering once before dying.
By the end of the meeting,
a top ten list had been compiled,
although the water heater, missing
from the meeting, would have to go
as directed by the others.
A clattering, dripping disaster,
he was always absent or tardy.
Written for: Creative Bloomings
The “Lannet” is a form of sonnet, consisting of 14 lines. There is a strict syllable count of 10 per line. It has NO END-LINE RHYMING SCHEME. Only internal rhyme is allowed. There is no requirement of meter for a Lannet.
As the end of summer draws near, my dear,
I fear we may lose touch after parting.
My eyes are smarting with tears I hold back,
for if I lack control–let them spill out–
there’s no doubt that I will weep endlessly.
O, would that we two lived with less distance
between us. Chances are the clock will tick-
tock slow, as thick molasses pours from jars.
Look at the stars, my love–silver, twinkling.
They seem to wink only at us tonight,
and the moon so bright, our guiding angel.
Embrace me well and long, so I might hold
your touch when coldness creeps in. Farewell, love.