Thursday, May 19, 2016

Pink Clouds Over Kmart


Pink Clouds Over Kmart

Peaceful pink clouds float along
in the bright blue sky over Kmart.
Inside, frazzled shoppers toss clothes 
 from clearance racks into a cart.

Blue collar workers, struggling to make ends meet,
clutch their coupons and look for a great buy.
When they came in, they didn't even notice 
those wispy, pink clouds drifting above the store 
in that blue, blue sky.

Their faces are pinched and distracted.
As they leave, they are lost in thought.
Already they are worrying
about the money they just spent
on all the things that they bought.

They're searching for happiness 
through retail therapy, 
but they have yet to realize
that true joy isn't found in a shopping cart.
If only they knew, they might find delight
in the soft pink clouds drifting by 
in the blue, blue skies over Kmart.

*   *   *   *   *

I snapped the photo above with the camera in my phone while riding by in the car. I thought the pink clouds were pretty, and I liked the way they stood out against the blue of the sky. I took the shot below just a few seconds later. I was quite surprised to see how differently the second shot came out in comparison to the first. In reality, the sky was blue not pink, but this is how the picture came out. I did not, to my knowledge, change any settings on the phone to make the photo look this way. I also did not edit it to make it look this way. I don't know why this photo turned out like this, but I liked it, so I decided to share it with you. To me it almost has an eerie retro or lost-in-time kind of feel to it.  Maybe the imaginary shoppers in my poem above would have noticed the sky if it had been pink!





Friday, May 6, 2016

Time Out

Time Out

It’s been a long day.
Junior has broken every rule.
Mommy has put him in time out.
He’s sitting in the corner on a stool.
She steps back to survey the mess. 
Crayon marks are on the wall 
in red, green, and blue.
Toys are thrown 
in every corner of the room.
Mommy whimpers a little. 
She needs a time out too.

Happy Mother's Day, everyone! 

Thursday, April 28, 2016

Whipped Cream Trees


Whipped Cream Trees

White-blossomed trees 
line the street
appearing overnight 
like a dream.

They look as if 
they've been festooned
with cotton lace, popcorn, 
or maybe...whipped cream.

Branches make canopies over the walk:
fragrant, delicate, and sweet.
A slight breeze stirs up a few white petals 
that float down like wishes,
drifting across the path at our feet.





Wednesday, April 27, 2016

On the Defensive, That's Just Silly, and Last Cookie

I'm continuing with poems written from prompts. The prompts for today's post were: write a "defensive" poem,  write a "silly" poem, and write a poem with the title "Last ____ (fill in the blank)." Truth be told, I think all three of these poems ended up fitting into the "silly" category, but here goes. 


On the Defensive

You can’t blame me, Ms. Mosquito.
You gave me no other choice.
You, with your dive-bombing needle nose,
and your annoying, whiny voice.

You attacked and put me on the defensive.
I’ll tolerate no more bites from you.
You’re an itchy nuisance.
SMACK!
Farewell, Ms. Mosquito. I bid you, adieu!

*   *   *   *   *

That’s Just Silly!

Have you ever seen a giraffe wearing a scarf?
Imagine how long that scarf would be.
Have you ever heard a toad play a saxophone?
Now that would be something to see!
What if pigs carried parasols
to protect them from the sun?
What if cows could dance a jig?
Wouldn’t that be fun?
Chase those cobwebs out of your brain.
Let your imagination run free.
Don’t be afraid that someone will complain,
“Oh!  That’s just silly!”

 *   *   *   *   *

Last Cookie

You took the last cookie?
How could you? I was saving that for me!
I was going to enjoy it
with a nice cup of tea.
Oh well, never mind.
You won’t hear drama from me.
I won’t make a fuss.
I won’t whine and cuss.
I’ll just have an apple instead.
No chocolate chips, no crunchy nuts,
just healthy fruit...
grumble, grumble, mutter, mutter, munch.

Thursday, April 21, 2016

Hideout, Optimism Is, Rage Is

I'm posting more poems written for prompts today. The prompts this time were to write a poem about a hideout, and to write a poem with an emotion as the title. I wrote two different poems for the second prompt because I thought it was an interesting challenge.

Hideout

When I was little, I would hide
in the bottom of my bedroom closet
beneath the hanging clothes,
amidst the bags and shoes on the floor.

When I was a little older,
I’d climb up and hide in the branches 
of the old maple tree
that grew outside our back door.

Now my favorite hideout
is being at home, cup of tea and book in hand,
with the phone turned off, and the doors locked.
Who could ask for more?

  *   *   *   *   *

Optimism Is

Sunshine peeking through the storm clouds.
Flowers thriving in the presence of weeds.
Continuing to garden in spite of drought.
Watching the weather and planting seeds.


Rage Is

…Grating, volatile shrieks.
…Fiery, scarlet red poison.
…Rumbling thunder shaking windows.
…Acrid, billowing, black smoke.
…Crashing, slicing, jagged lightning.
…Anger, exploding, uncontrolled.

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Urban Decay and Doodle Dee Doodle Dee Doodle Dee Dee

Below are two more poems that I wrote based on the prompts from the poem-a-day challenge. The prompts this time were "Urban ____ (fill in the blank)" and "Doodle." 

The first poem I wrote is quite dark and depressing and unlike the type of poem I usually write. The second one is just sort of silly. It's been fun trying these prompts and stepping outside of the type of poems I usually write. It doesn't hurt to try something new once in a while and stretch the writing muscles. I hope you don't mind that I am sharing these experiments with you.



Urban Decay

Spray paint graffiti, obscenities screaming,
masquerading as art, takes the place of dreaming.
Drunk or high, a man is weaving, stumbling 
down concrete sidewalks, cracked and crumbling.
Boarded-up windows keep out the light.
Shady characters, wheeling and dealing, creep about at night.
Shattered beer bottles are tossed from cars
from after-hours drinkers, kicked out of bars.
Overgrown weeds crowd vacant lots.
Nothing good flourishes here. Everything rots.

                          *   *   *   *   *

Doodle Dee Doodle Dee Doodle Dee Dee

I’m taking notes during the meeting,
or so it would seem from afar,
but really I’m sketching, drawing, doodling
flowers, curlicues, and a random star.
The speaker drones on and on
about nothing of interest to me.
My pen continues to dance on the paper
creating kittens, birds, bullfrogs, and a bee.
So bored. So bored. Oh mercy me.
Will this ever end? Will they ever set us free?
Doodle dee doodle dee doodle dee dee.

Monday, April 18, 2016

Experience and Hope Returns

The next two poem prompts for the poem-a-day challenge were to write a poem about the word  "experience" and to write a poem inspired by art. The "experience" poem I wrote has a rather negative tone to it, so to balance things and end on a more positive note, I tried to make the poem based on art more uplifting. Also, I tweaked the second prompt a little by writing about a photograph instead of a work of art (poetic license gives me the right, you know--Ha ha!). 


Experience

Experience is a strict teacher
who gives hard homework
and focuses on difficult lessons.
The lessons can only be understood
with the investment of time, energy, and money.

Once your resources are exhausted,
your innocence is gone, 
and your dreams are spent,
you realize too late 
that you should have done things differently.

Experience leaves with you the rueful thought,
“If only I had…” 
along with the dubious distinction, 
of course, 
of being older and wiser.


*   *   *   *   *





Hope Returns

A triumphant daffodil,
bright pinwheel of sun,
held high on a green stem,
celebrates its emancipation
from the dirt and dry, brown leaves
of the forest floor
by softly fluttering 
in the gentle breeze.


*   *   *   *   *

My husband and I took a walk on the Daffodil Trail in the Furnace Run Metro Park here in Summit County where I live over this past weekend. The weather was perfect, and we really enjoyed the chance to get out along the trail. Unfortunately, the snow we had the previous weekend was very hard on the daffodils, and many were damaged by the cold. Some survived, though, and I took a few photos including the one above. 

Below are a few more photos from our walk including one of my husband and walking companion. The trail winds through the trees with different varieties of daffodils planted in bunches along the way. A deep ravine with water running through it is on one side of the trail for a while. In other spots little creeks of water trickle through and around the trees and sometimes cross over the path. Someone (not us) had carved hieroglyphics into one of the trees. I also found a few yellow Forsythia blooms at the end of the trail. We heard birds singing in the trees and a woodpecker hammering on one at one point. We also saw a few chipmunks along the way. You can click on the photos to enlarge them if you want to take a closer look at any of them.