Barely Poeming: Laundry laundry.

 

Laundry laundry 

on the line

you'll smell fresh,

you'll dry fine

(Please keep the bird 

poop off of mine)

jle 2013

Part of the unpublished (and you can thank me for that later) "I hear my life in rhyme" non-series. 

Poeming: Sister

the Miller girls, Patti on the left, me on the right.

The prompt over at Poetic Asides was to write a "beyond" poem. In search of inspiration i decided to try another new-to-me poetic style, a Cinquain. It's unrhymed and made up of 5 lines and a number of other cool little things to keep track of. Here's mine:




sister

funny sweet

laughing caring accepting

gone beyond my voice

friend




jle 2013

Poeming: Trying: The Burn.

Bwahahaha!!
 

The prompt for the day over at Poetic Asides Poem A Day Challenge was to write a "burn" poem. Since i keep seeing people who actually know stuff about poetry writing something called a "shadorma" i decided to look up how to do that and combine that with the prompt. And i ended up here--



TRYING: THE BURN. (a shadorma)


She’s on fire.

Watch as she burns bright

see her pink

and black shoes

walking fast on the treadmill.

Something burns for sure.



jle 2013

Poeming: Communication.

On the 16th over at Poetic Asides we were challenged to write a Possible poem or an IMpossible poem.

This picture actually scares me.

COMMUNICATION.

In the late 70s he said to his coworkers,

“You’ll see, one day we’ll all have tele-

phones we can carry around with us!” Then

they all threw their heads back and laughed.



(and yes i CAN call this a poem, and you're not the boss of me. This was a true story, of my hubby at work.)

Poeming: "F" Words.



This doesn't really go, but it made me laugh. Good enough!

Over at Poetic Asides the poetry prompt for the 15th was "infestation." So i wrote this bitching poem--and i don't mean like "Bitchin' jogging suit, dude!" i mean "bitching." (Hmm. Should i make that a new tag for the label cloud?)

“F” WORDS.

and when fatigue infests
like locusts on a vine
like ants marching in line
steadily, thoroughly

this ache that won’t give up
like fire in my veins
and I don’t hold the reins
plaguing me, utterly

they say it’s in my head
yes there and in my legs
and the rest of me, it begs
believing me, “pains”takingly

some days I barely bear
the weight of it
I’m in the pit
totally, submersedly

Some say “Well you can’t DIE from it”
that’s the good thing—
also the bad thing—
occasionally, Fibromyalgia-cally.


jle 2013

Poeming: Totally.

Thanks, offthemark.com!
 

 The poetry prompt? To write an "express" poem. My take?

TOTALLY.



how do I state this

precisely,

unambiguously:

that when I see

only me,

myopically,

I see selfishly--

not the least

graciously,

then seriously?

I just need

to get over me!

jle 2013



i know, i know, "deep thoughts".... i can get pretty self-focused when the pain and fatigue of fibromyalgia seems to be winning, as it has been lately!

Poeming: A Possible Sonnet About Sharing.

Poetic Asides prompt for today: write a sonnet, a 14 line rhyming poem. And, well, it sure ain't Shakespeare but.....

 

A POSSIBLE SONNET ABOUT SHARING.

 

The dogs they cuddle every night
while I am trying to sleep
and even though my rest is deep
they wake me up in fright.
I startle when they lick my face
(oft times from head to chin)
destroying dreams I’m nestled in
and cause my heart to race.
You ask me why I let them stay
upon our cozy bed?
(and here you see my face is red)
I lost that skirmish the first day:
my hubby who seems tougher
couldn’t see the poor things “suffer.”

jle 2013

Poeming (of sorts): (Not So) Amuse(ing)-Bouche.

At Poetic Asides, the prompt for Saturday the 13th (also my son's 25th birthday!) was to write a comparison poem. Here's my offering of the day. In case you don't watch Masterchef or some other cooking show where you learn hoity-toity words like "amuse-bouche", it means "something to please the mouth" and is a one bite appetizer kinda thing. And i like the way it sounds--it amuses me.

one of my "delightful" green concoctions.

(NOT SO) AMUSE(ING)-BOUCHE.



When I make green juices

with vitamins and such

I feel so very thin (within)

like I’m not aging (much.)

When I give in to sugar

a (BIG!) weakness of mine

I feel my hips and thighs are

becoming elephantine.

I wish I were less prone to

these games inside my head,

but if they get too crushing

I (have a snack and) go to bed.

 

 

(wink!) jle 2013

Poeming: Broken.



Another "broken" poem from the prompt over at Poetic Asides.

 

 

BROKEN.


Their family broke the other year

now I, the house, am waiting

the dust lies lank, a beggar’s coat,

over scattered left-behinds

 

their family broke the other year

and each one moved away

and left what was--or might have been--

a home, now dull and silent


their family broke the other year

and I, the house, am waiting

for voices, footsteps once again

to let me give them shelter.

jle 2013

 

Poeming: Personal Ad.

The Poem A Day prompt over at Poetic Asides was to write a "broke" poem.

 

{place missing muse here}

PERSONAL AD.


Words in search of symbolic phrase

would like to meet nice poet

with living muse.




jle 2013

Poeming: Build a Fam.

 The Poem A Day challenge over at Poetic Asides asks us to write an instructional poem for today. Here's mine.

BUILD A FAM.


Marry.

Have children.

Stumble along trying not to make all the same mistakes as your parents.

Add a scoop of your own unique mistakes to the mix.

Save for their future therapy.

Shake well.

Yields 1 family,

keeping the “fun”

in dysfunctional.


jle 2013




All true--except for the "saving" part!

Poeming: SEVENLING (the smooth surface)

Over at Poetic Asides, the poem of the day was to be a "Sevenling." Now, while i think a "sevenling" sounds more like a Tolkein creature, it is in actuality a poem form made up of 2 tercets (yeh, i didn't know what they were either) and the third stanza is a stand-alone line that can be a punch-line or a twist of some kind. Here is my bit of Sevenling Wisdom for the day.

 

SEVENLING (the smooth surface)

the smooth surface sluggishly breaks

apart, a jagged line appearing.

a crevice is born.

 

slowly, leisurely, the crack widens

accepting the now flowing

external ooze.

 

two rounded cake sides should not be put together.

 

 

jle 2013

And that's all i have to say about that.

Poeming: Dear Sis

The prompt for Saturday over at Poetic Asides was to write a post poem. Here's mine.


DEAR SIS--


You know that recipe Mom

used to make, the one with

the carrots in it that she got

off the ketchup bottle? I made

it for dinner the other night,

remember how much I liked

that one when we were kids?

The note she wrote at the

bottom made me giggle

again and I wanted to call

her, but she’s gone.

And then I remember,


so are you


and there’s nobody to

call in this post-family

world of mine.



jle 2013