Category Archives: Poems

Remembering Gratitude After the Hot Water Heater Hits Bottom

There can no longer be a doubt
I really, really love it when things work out
I get inordinately happy when software soars
And my at-home quick books completes its chores

When the water heater heats
And the furnace kicks in
The world seems balanced
Let the games begin

When the seeds we plant
Grow into sprouts
And tomatoes burst to red
Despite my doubts

I can relinquish for a while
My insecurity
And find a plethora of joy
Amid uncertainty

I get a skosh too edgy when life messes about
‘Cuz I really, really love it when things work out

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A Sprig of Spring

 

 

A splash of sun

A sprig of spring

A stunning rebirth

As life goes green

 

Aw, nuthin’




So odd
Yet,
In a way,
Not so odd

So discontentedly satisfied
So patiently agitated
So freely mitigated
So subversively brave

So intensely moderated
For the flag that I wave

Am I 
standing short 
as someone
who I can imagine
as enough
as is

So extremely vigilant
So hyper-attenuated
So assertively meek

So sublimely uncertain
For the purpose I seek

I am

Emily Dickinson

Stoned and Sideways

So I got this stone-paper notebook

because a hundred notebooks

are just not enough

and I like it

If it’s not worth doing badly,

Is it worth it at all?

Must one avoid it

If one must/might fall?

My choice is to jump in

In spite of the risk…

…of not being perfect

…or of slipping a disc

What I am seeking is unclear to me;

It slides silently… 

…sideways…

…and just out of reach

notebookphoto

Looking for Light in the News of the Day

In light of the darkness of recent events

I am feeling befuddled

And mixed up and tense

I’ve grown tired of the pickets

on this particular fence

Too much manipulation

Too much pretense

Some days I achieve empathy

Would I rather be dense?

Ah, well, life is so good when I look up and around

…and maybe the news can be simply turned down.

Attitude

Winter has hit

Gently

But firmly

Snow takes its place in the air and on the ground

I do not object

to the season

But is there really any reason

That it has to go on and on and on for months at a time?

Maybe it will be lovely all winter long

My attitude is in need of an upgrade

Sunday is a Beginning

Will I ever write again?

And if so, I wonder when?

Will I discover someone oh-so-grand?

Like Dick Van Patton or Ayn Rand?

Something is there

on the edge of my brain

Waiting for a a word or a way to explain

How to cope with the world and the rocky terrain

I remain.

 

While Awake

It is difficult

   and tiresome

Lying so still

    watching my mind

Awake

   counting backwards

One hundred to one

   and remaining alert

Long after I’m done

POETIC LICENSE (or Four)

Daily Prompt: Suspicious

 I DO NOT LIKE THE WORD IAMB

WILL YOU DEFINE IT IF YOU CAN?

I DO NOT LIKE IAMBIC FEET

THOUGH METERS MAKE ME FEEL COMPLETE

 ANTIPESTIC TETRAMETER

SENDS ME PACKING AS A READER*

DOES THIS DEFINE THE ONE TRUE WAY?

HOW CAN THAT EVER BE OKAY?

 

*OR…DEPENDING ON PRONUNCIATION:

ANTIPESTIC TETRAMETER

IS THIS THE BEST BAROMETER?