A place for poems and pics
Conjuring Memories
It’s not the yeasty smell of
Freshly baked bread or
The peppery smell of roses
The bring her back to me.
Although her oven produced
Magical loaves and her garden
Simmered with old fashioned roses,
It is the sharp, medicinal smell of
Vicks Vap-o-rub that conjures up
My mother’s memory and her gentle
Fingers smoothing the chilly potion
Over my sickly chest, spreading love.
–
Day 6 of PAD
About What Counts – a remix
He counts the birds of many hues
The names of most, he doesn’t know,
but they must count for something too.
His favorites are the noisy blues,
the yellows putting on a show.
He counts the birds of many hues,
this window gives a perfect view.
The black one – oh, it’s just a crow,
but they must count for something too.
He still remembers quite a few
it’s memories that do not flow.
He counts the birds of many hues
until they’re gone, all but a few,
and like them memories have flown,
but they must count for something too.
He sees a face and wonders who,
should he remember them – but no.
He counts the birds of many hues,
and they must count for something too.
About What Counts
He sits at the kitchen window counting
birds at the feeder. He used to know the name
of each one, their breeding habits, their migration
patterns. A large shadow passes overhead, scattering
the little birds like the memories that elude him. People
and places he no longer recalls, strangers in photographs.
Only the feelings remain.
Surely they must count for something.
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #135: Shake that Poem Groove Thang
Forever Grooving
The needle dropped into the
groove of the old 45-
scratchy sounds of rock’n roll
filled the room. Her hips
and heart began to sway,
images of a high school gym
filled with teenagers floated
behind her closed eyes, and
she felt groovy again.
https://dversepoets.com/2021/09/06/quadrille-135-shake-that-poem-groove-thang/
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille 131 – with Brian Miller
the word today is “Juke”
Time Traveler
she has her own Jukebox
an antique with colorful neon lights
she has filled with her favorite 45s
oldies that take her back to dances in the gym
and a boy with slicked back hair
she pushes B5 and dances alone
with her memories
https://dversepoets.com/2021/07/12/quadrille-131-with-brian-miller/
d’Verse Poets Pub – Meet the bar: verbing
—
Camera This
I need to camera these moments
Save them somewhere in my memory
I need to camera these moments
Album them in my heart to keep them from
Negativing into ghosts of themselves
I need to camera these moments
Lens them into focus until I can’t forget
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
–
d’Verse Poets Pub -Come hang with me!
We’re ‘hanging out’ with Lilian tonight
–
It hangs forlornly on the
Old cupboard door
Draped now in only memories
It was the favorite hanger the
One used for the very best clothes
A coal miner’s only suit – shiny with wear
A mother’s Sunday dress, home-made
Of yellow, cotton voile
A little girl’s new. first day of school
Dress, the pink one no one else had worn before
A young man’s striped suit for his wedding
This hanger that once witnessed every special
Occasion in a family’s life is
All that remains
Twiglets #66 – like an avalanche
—
Memories fall like an
Avalanche from Grandmother’s
Ancient scrapbook
Looking For Love in the Home Depot
You tear things down
Remove the historical details
In favor of the smooth
The modern –
Roaming the aisles of
2x4s and plasterboard
And I, I long for color
And pattern and antiques-
Roaming the aisles of
Paint and knobs and
Curtains
Together we build a life
Composed of our differences
A home, a depot
Of collected memories
——
My cousin challenged me to write a love poem about Home Depot
also posting on d’Verse Poets Pub – OLN
rhymeswithbug 