Prompted by Cee’s Midweek Madness Challenge (CMMC) on the topics of green and summer.
Caterpillar
Sleep Deprived
I tried to sleep for a little while –
On your lap? Yes, yes, I nodded.
And there I was just nearly napping,
When you arose without warning, suddenly;
Waking me (yet again) as there came
A sound from the front door, a tapping.
I patiently waited for your return, while doubting
You would assist me in my quest for dreaming;
As sleep is required for dreams, no?
I accept that you are a mere mortal;
Why had I ever dared to
Believe… No, foolishly dream
I could have trained you properly, before;
Nevermore!
W3 Prompt #68: Wea’ve Written Weekly poet of the week Matt, prompts us to:
“Write an ekphrastic poem in response to this image of a yawning cat created by Matt…
- If you’re feeling ambitious, try to write your ekphrastic poem in the form a golden shovel (of any poem of your choice).
- Golden shovel: A poetic form in which the last word of each line forms a second, pre-existing poem (or section thereof), to which the poet is paying homage.
- Click here for a full explanation of the golden shovel.”
I have chosen to incorporate words from the following lines of “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe:
“While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,”
“Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;”
And the repetitive word used throughout the poem “Nevermore.”
Memory Lane
I stand at the beginning of Memory Lane, taking in its linear perspective. A row of connected townhomes line the sidewalk to the right as far as the eye can see. To the left is a row of manicured trees framing the city’s botanical garden. A beautiful street that holds many memories for me and many secrets. It is with great effort that I manage to take the first few steps along the sidewalk. My initial hesitancy is quickly forgotten as memories flood my senses. Some of these doors I have entered many times; some I wish I hadn’t. Anticipation builds as I make my way toward the last townhome. I stop and stare at number 115, its door ajar. I feel the traffic holding its breath; sky a tense diaphragm of apprehension. Could it be? There is only one way to find out.
Prompted by Sadje’s What do you see # 199 and dVerse host Kim’s Prosery: Twice Shy
Not So Mellow Yellows
Framed
Orange Tranformation
I shed the orange from my body -
A color I have so despised;
A symbol of humiliation, restriction and punishment.
Yet the color refuses to relinquish me in my freedom.
In the morning,
the dewey grass shimmers orange;
Water droplets touched by the rising sun.
In the garden, hues of orange,
Spill from the marigolds’ bright heads.
I close my eyes and find I am no longer in darkness -
Orange illuminates the backs of my eyelids;
Now a symbol of nature, peace and contentment.
The day winds down, orange beams through the trees,
As the sun makes its descent over the horizon.
Prompted by Sue W & GC at weeklyprompts.com.
What Crisis?
Environmental crisis?
Nonsense!
See all the pretty and tasty things
produced for your consumption.
Fast food (on every corner for your convenience).
Eternal youth serum - bonus chemicals included!
This gadget - a must!
Place the burden on the people -
perfect panacea to our toxic greed.
Prompted by Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt #324.
In Season
Coming soon…
Prompted by Denzil’s Nature Photo Challenge #24: Edible and Ann-Christine’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge #261-Work in Progress.
Provokameter
A fleeting glimpse
is all it takes
to cause my provokameter
to break.
I had bought it new
and plugged it in;
I installed it
just below my chin.
It worked just fine
for a month or two;
then broke
the moment I saw you.
I checked its log,
all had been good;
the gauge was centered
as it should.
Until you walked in,
off the charts, wild;
my provokameter
was clearly riled.
So now I’ve
purchased one anew
with a special component,
Idontaseeyou.
W3 Prompt #67: Wea’ve Written Weekly’s poet of the week Lesley, prompts us to: “Write a nonsense poem with at least one invented word of your own.”
A Tanka: Collective Animal Nouns
A bale of turtles
Contentedly sunbathing
Someone approaches
The bale bales but two remain
Heads raised in pose for photo
Prompted by Colleen’s #TankaTuesday Weekly #Poetry Challenge No. 332, 8/8/23
JJJ Interactive Books 