Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, Poetic Bloomings, poetry

Lenny

dVerse Poetics: On All Things Feline!

The cats are taking over at d’Verse Poets Pub

Lenny – (a Lannet)

*

We buried him beneath the garden bench

where I would take my morning cup of tea

to share the highlights of my yesterday.

I often thought I heard his rumbling purr,

although I knew it’s just my wishful heart

imagining that he was still around,

still chasing after bugs, both real and not.

Still crawling under sheets when I make beds,

still hiding deep within a paper bag

then jumping out to grab me as I pass.

He followed me around just like a pup –

a nosey, noisy, sleek white, furry friend.

Quiet unexpectedly we found him gone

and buried him beneath the garden bench.

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Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, Poetic Bloomings, poetry

Just for Now

Poetic Bloomings – PROMPT #254 – SECOND WIND

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics : Purifying the Mind

Just for Now

I will become a spectator

For a while

I will look at art

Smell some roses

Read some poems

And when I get my second wind

Perhaps I will be the

Painter, gardener, poet

Once again

Posted in Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Poetic Bloomings, poetry

A Daily Challenge

A Daily Challenge

 

How did I become trash-challenged?
My kitchen garbage can questions me
every time I open its lid.
I can hear it whisper, “Is that recyclable?”
I search the packaging of pasta, and spinach,
and eggs for the magic numbered triangle,
because I no longer have the ability to
determine what to throw in the garbage
and what to recycle.
How did I become trash-challenged?

Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, Poetic Bloomings, poetry, Shadorma

Laundry Day

Poetic Bloomings -INFORM POET – SHADORMA

The Shadorma is a Spanish poetic form made up of a stanza of six lines (sestet) with no set rhyme scheme. It is a syllabic poem with a meter of 3/5/3/3/7/5. It can have many stanzas, as long as each follows the meter.

d’Verse Poets Pub – OLN

Clean laundry
So neatly folded
In a pile
Makes me think
Of warm days, gentle breezes
My mother’s clothes line

Hung with the
Details of our lives
Dad’s blue shirts
My patched shorts
And the beautiful lacy
Slips my mother wore

Posted in Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Poetic Bloomings, poetry

Maybe You Should Call Me

Poetic Bloomings -PROMPT #211 – “AND I QUOTE” – INSTALLMENT #1

The “AND I QUOTE” prompts will take a quotation from some random person of note and be the basis for our poetry. We’ve used this idea to some great effect in the past, so if it ain’t broke…

Today’s quote:

“If you wish to forget anything on the spot, make a note that this
thing is to be remembered.” ~Edgar Allan Poe


I put your name on that list
That list of people in my head
That list I didn’t write on paper
Because I didn’t want to misplace that list
Or clutter my desk with that list
Or lose that list among the pictures
Hanging on the fridge
I put your name on that mental list
Of people I should call, text, e-mail –
Or maybe even write to (gasp!)
I put your name on the top of that list,
That infinite list, growing ever longer
Curling around in my little gray cells
Ending up filed away under ‘Good Intentions’

Posted in Poetic Bloomings, poetry

On Cloud Nine

Poetic Bloomings – PROMPT #214 – YOUR NUMBER’S UP
Marie Elana and Walt have challenged us to use a phrase with a number in it as the prompt for our poeming this week.

On Cloud Nine
There was no light-hearted laughter
On cloud nine
No warm feeling of joy prevailed
On cloud nine
Clouds one through eight sang, but not
On cloud nine

There was bickering and tears
On cloud nine
Angry gray feelings abounded
On cloud nine
Until no more could be held
On cloud nine
And down poured all the grief upon the earth
From cloud nine

—-
We’ve had non-stop rain here for two days.

Posted in Poetic Bloomings, poetry, Uncategorized

A Compromise of Purple

Poetic Bloomings – PROMPT #213 – YOU COME TO MY SENSES

A great prompt from Maria Elena and Walt over at Poetic Bloomings

A Compromise of Purple

 

Your words flew out at me in shades
Of haughty reds and angry oranges
Pushing, rejecting my humble words
In hues of blues that would not yield

Your words and mine began
To blend, to merge, to smooth
Into a new idea
A compromise of purple