This is Your Time

Written for:  Creative Bloomings, “Life As You Know It”
You are the Professor of “LIFE 101″. What is the first lesson you would impart? Write it as a poem!

This is your time
to decide which things
in life move your heart,
tickle your funny bone,
make you want to be part
of this world.

This is your time
to learn all you can
about yourself. Do not
put life on a shelf, thinking
it will stay put. Life moves
along like a song,
that eventually reaches
its last note.

This is your time
to live.

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Mother’s Oak

Written for:  The Mag 242


Autumn was the time of year
she liked to travel,
visit her mother’s
gravesite. In the skirt
of an old oak tree,
she spread a blanket,
and talked to her
mother, catching her
up on family news.
She bent over to move
some errant leaves
and stone that covered
the word, Mother. Then,
she thought, look at how
the oak tree and its family
are taking mother into
their fold. Maybe she
is adapting a new form.

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The Mistaken Martyr

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #183
words:  crazy, martyr, prisoner, secret, laughter, shine, childhood, seer, diamond, steel, stranger, shadow

Seer stands in shadow
of childhood, knowing
a secret that shines
like a diamond reflected
on steel. Hears crazy
laughter. The prisoner
is innocent, a pawn
in the game of a stranger,
who is free to roam,
and is mistakenly thought,
a martyr.

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Monkey Puzzle Tree

Written for Poets United, Midweek Motif~Tree(s)

Tree(s): What was/is a tree to you?  
Is there one you miss or wish to meet someday?
Monkey Puzzle Tree

Monkey Puzzle Tree

I want to see those tangled branches
of the monkey puzzle tree. The name
fascinates me. I think of steel
monkey bars I climbed as a child.
Wild as they were, imagine bendable
branches for climbing, with seeds
you can eat along the way. They say
the tree got its name because
of the notion that even a monkey
could not climb a puzzle, but
wouldn’t you like to try?

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The Last Cruise

Written for:  Red Wolf Poems #223, “Three-Hour Tour”
Thinking of Gilligan’s Island

They told me of
a fantasy cruise
to an unspoiled isle
of emeralds and blues.

A storm kicked up,
our Captain was lost.
When we finally hit land
the natives looked cross.

They spoke a strange language,
painted their faces
with white thunderbolts.
Of all the places

we could have landed
this one was not civil.
We tried to befriend them,
they made us snivel.

If you found this message
It’s already too late,
for the natives boiled water;
guess who they ate?

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Artists of Notes

Written for:  dVerse Poets, “Under the Influence of Music”
Write a dedication to your favorite genre(s), song(s), or
all of the above

Charlie “Bird” Parker
Thelonius Monk
Jazz swings in my fingers,
burns me in smoke

John Lee Hooker
Buddy Guy
paint me indigo
tones of the soul

Janis Joplin
Jim Morrison
tore out my heart
poetry on fire

Rolling Stones
rocked me in beats
changed the times

Too many artists
and genres to note.
Music lives in my head,
keeps me afloat

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Written for:  Carpe Diem Sparkling Stars #9, Basho’s “Through the skylark’s singing”

through the skylark’s singing
comes the beat
of pheasants’ cries

© Basho

Tree limbs shake

A clamor assaults my ears

Bluejay chases finch

   © Sara McNulty

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Rays of Sunset

Written for:  Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge #53, Oliana’s “flying home”

sunset photo by Oliana

sunset photo by Oliana

power-driven fowl
in rays of a setting sun
flies home                              © Oliana

Hopes to be home by sunrise
Family waits beyond clouds      © Sara

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White Pick-up

Written for:  Poetic Asides #284
Write a pick up poem.

All her friend knew
she had a white pick-up.
They owned cars with loans–

sporty, speedy cars–
but they were afraid
to park them anywhere.

She toted their pets back
and forth to the Vet,
picked up small

and large pieces
of furniture, came to
the rescue on Costco sprees,

and drove to all destinations
when there were more
than four in a party.

She traded in the white pick-up,
bought a Volkswagen Bug.
Now her phone calls are cut in half.

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The Moon Spilled

Written for:  Creative Bloomings, InForm:  Hexsonnetta

The HexSonnetta, created by Andrea Dietrich, consists of two six-line stanzas and a finishing rhyming couplet with the following set of rules:

Meter: Iambic Trimeter
Rhyme Scheme: a/bb/aa/b c/dd/cc/d ee

Iambic Trimeter means the usual iambic (alternating unstressed/stressed) meter for every line of the poem, but instead of the ten syllables that comprise a typical sonnet’s iambic pentameter, this particular form uses six syllables of iambic trimeter per line. Thus, the name HexSonnetta. The first part of the form’s name refers to the syllable count per line. The second part of the name, Sonnetta, is to show this to be a form similar to the sonnet, yet with its shorter lines and different rhyme scheme, it is not the typical sonnet. Not only does this poem have six syllables per line, it also has a set of two six-line stanzas, giving an extra “hex” to the meaning of HexSonnetta. The rhyme scheme is a bit of a mixture of the two traditional sonnet types, with the two 6-line stanzas having more the rhyme scheme of an Italian sonnet, but with the ending rhyming couplet being the featured rhyme scheme of the English sonnet. The first stanza presents the theme of the poem, with the second stanza serving to change the tone of the poem, to introduce a new aspect of the theme or to give added details. The final couplet, as in an English sonnet, can be either a summary (if the theme is simple) or it could be the resolution to a problem presented in the theme. In any event, it should nicely tie together the whole piece and could even appear as a nice “twist” presented at the end.


The moon spilled over shoulders
of lovers this fall night.
They held each other tightly.
Although tonight was colder
than last, he did enfold her,
and warmth spread, from her knight.

Their lips disclosed a fire
that burned within, a lust.
A drink, a laugh, a trust,
a hope that their desire
would lift them ever higher
and not burn out or rust.

Alas, their spouses caught them
and oh, the shame it brought them.

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