Tag: poetry

Gift

I have this
Weapon in my
Arsenal.
A .22 caliber
Walther pistol,
Black, sleek,
Potentially deadly, an
Unexpected gift
Given by someone
Who loves me, but
Does not always
Know me.
In the middle of the
Night after
Opening this gift
I woke up in a
Cold sweat;
Shivering from the
Weight of
Responsibility.

Now, I cannot bring
Myself to
Hold, or
Load, or
Fire, or even
Look at the
Damned thing.
Yet,
It takes up
Valuable
Space in my
Home.
Space that would be
Better served by
Books and
Poetry about
Peace, and
Love, and
Dragons, and
Rock and roll.

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http://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2015/01/defensive-gun-ownership-myth-114262.html?ml=m_t3_2h#.VLhdIdS9KK3

Perspective

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Sometimes up is down
All depends on where one’s bound
Adventure awaits

I seldom attempt haiku, but there was a challenge circulating on WordPress, and I can never pass up a good challenge. Funny thing is, I’m not exactly sure what the rules of the challenge were. It had something to do with the picture of the escalator and a haiku. I think. Is there a prize???

A Visit with the Truth Fairy

The Truth Fairy flew through
My window last night
Flittered around and
Fumbled beneath my pillow.
Startled, I awakened and
Screamed,
“Who the hell are you?”

“Don’t mind me,
I’m the Truth Fairy,”
The intruder said.
“I’m searching for
Veracity. So far
I am unable to find
Even a trace within the
Confines of your abode.”

“I’ve found exaggerated
Prose, and pious poetry,
Inelegant phraseology, and
Insipid verse, but
Very little in the way of
Truth!”
He continued.

“Oh,” I replied.
“In that case,
Perhaps you are
Looking in all the wrong
Places.
The truth is Boring,
Veracity is dull and you are
Wasting your time.

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Ocean

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Ocean

Messages of anger,
Hate, and despair
Tucked in blown glass
Riding atop
Waves of arguments:
He said!
But they were!
You should!
All rebuffed with
Words of hope,
Love, and peace.
Wrested from the
Brink of anguish
Cresting swells of
Sweet, sweet
Acceptance for
Ourselves and others,
Our lives and loves,
Without a care for
What any might
Think or say.

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Third Person Love and Laughter

A friend challenged me to take one of my more poetic posts and rewrite it in third person. Here’s the new version with the original at the end.

Love and Laughter

The market on love
Has been cornered
By those who know that
Sometimes the clouds threaten
And the sky goes sunless
Day upon day
And all that holds the storm at bay
Are the winds swept aloft
By shared laughter.

So what if lovers can’t live
On love alone?
Better that they never even try.
Some days they may
Forget to remember
The grace of being saved
By a smile, seeing
The world created
From no more than a pair
Of long ago I do’s.

And here’s the original:

“Laughter and Love”

The market on love
Has been cornered
By those of us
Who know that
Sometimes the clouds threaten
And the sky goes sunless
Day upon day
And all that holds the storm at bay
Are the winds swept aloft
By shared laughter.

So what if we can’t live
On love alone?
Honestly we never even tried.
Some days we might have
Forgotten to remember, though
The importance of just looking
Into a smile and seeing
The world we’ve created
From no more than a pair
Of long ago I do’s.

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Onomatopoeia

Okay, I was in a super silly mood this morning. Please bear with me!

Growl, snap, pop,
Crackle boys!
Buzz, snip, growl,
Gasp, gulp guppies
Pssst, whoosh,
Whew! That was close!
Plip, plop, ploop!
Gurgle down the drain,
Slurp, splat, whisper
Sweet nothings.
Crash, bang, boom
Bombs bursting
That’s rare!
Ribbit, croak, burrrrp,
Excuse you, dear.
I don’t know about
You-a, but
Every bit of me-a
Likes onomatopoeia.

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Timberrrrr! Again

I fell this morning.
On my way to fetch
Clean water for the cats
I spilt a few drops, slipped,
Went splat!

The slow-mo footage did not
Play this time.
The fall was fast and furious
Like a Hollywood film,
Only less sexy.

Water puddled ’round me
Subjugating me to its wishes.
Literally, I had fallen and
Could not get up.
Somewhat feebly I called “help!”

The cats scattered, ostensibly
For first aid.
I sat cataloging my injuries
Thanking God that I
Still bounce a bit.

I scooted on my derrière
Until I reached the rug.
Managed to grasp the
Counter and pull myself
Up. Slowly.

Surrounded by water
No towels in reach
I moved inch by inch
Using the rug as my
Conveyance.

Now my elbow hurts
Like a son of a gun
From clipping the counter
On my way down
Down, down.

Somehow I managed to
Ping pong between the
Kitchen island and the
Cabinets, bruising both
Hips symmetrically.

My lower back, my
Ass and shoulders
Protest the insults
Heaped upon them
Once again.

And Studly, when he returned
Could not resist
Lecturing me on my
Lack of awareness.
Asshat.

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January: Note to Self

Don’t give me excuses
For losing resolutions
Wimpy, downtrodden
Promises to self.

Instead, hold my fingers
To the flame
Keep me accountable
For once.

Steady, steady girl
You can do this
Take one last long
Look at yesterday.

Gone like every other
Past minute, past hour
Filled with chances
Some gained, some lost.

What now? Only some
Promises are worthy
Of keeping for
Any length of time:

Love more, worry less
Share everything
Care for everyone.
Nothing else even matters.

Peace, People.

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Cat Toys

Perfect cat toys seldom
Cost much.
An empty box seduces the
Most jaded feline.
Flippity, floppity shoe laces
Attract a kitten’s curious pounces.
My cats’ schtick is indeed
A stick.
At one time featuring a
Bunch of brightly colored
Feathers and a squeaky
Stuffed mouse dangling
From one end.
Lately, the mouse has gone
Missing and the feathers have
Molted.
But the cats simply
Do Not Care.

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No Rest

I woke up this morning

In a mess of confusion

No rest for the wicked

The righteous can wait.

Dreams I’ve been dreaming

Don’t stop when I’m waking,

I only know sweetness

When I’m not feeling pain.

And I swear

There is hope

Sweet, sweet love

All around me.

The evidence abounds

In the kindness we do.

So why the confusion?

Why all the great worry?

Sweet salvation awaits

Just step out in the rain.

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