"Up to Somewhere"

prompt: "after leaving here"


She still had half a mind that the
World was really flat and
Feared coming to a corner and
Spilling down the other side.

So she busted up the
Foundation, bought every
Balloon in town and
Tied them to the roof.

She fixed the blue and red, and
Yellow ones to each shingle,
Lined the gutters with the shiny
Silver ones that remarked upon
New babies, birthdays, and weddings,
Because it was more feng shui.

She said she couldn’t stay here
Any more, but still owed too
Much on the house, so
She’d just float it
Someplace else, letting the
Helium out bit by bit
Until she touched down
Someplace she could be herself.

"Traditional English Ode to Verse"

prompt: "ode"




Consider the potential of poetry
To free men’s probing minds,
To spill their hearts so totally.
The power of the verse reminds
That the stringing of mere syllables
Can transform lowly language
Into something greater than itself.
I equate it to a miracle
That despite time’s passage
Poetry can give such a true sense of self.

“Backyard Ode”

prompt: "ode"




A fenced in
Paradise full of
Flower beds
And shade trees,
Grills, swimming pools, tricycles,
Tree houses, Soccer
Balls, swing sets, hammocks.

Memories.

“Missing Keyholes”

prompt: "a world without something"




Some doors forever locked,
Some forever open.

Keys pile up in
Dejected mountains
Inadequate, bleak.
There’s nothing for the
Nosy to listen at now and the
Landfills won’t take any more,

So the people hang them from
Windchimes or toss them in the
Ocean, the water rising
Key by key until
Only the mountains remain,
Serenaded by the clinking of
Keys in the wind.

“Starless Shadorma”

prompt: "a world without something"




Nothing to
Wish on or compare
Lover’s eyes.
World without
Constellations, direction.
Just a lonely moon.

"In the Heart of a Have"

prompt: "in the ____ of _____"




She circles the
Block looking to
Find the dusty
Man with the cardboard
Sign,

“I’m hungry.”

The bag of fast food
Grows colder til at
Last she just drives
Home, slowing at
Each intersection,
Hoping to see the
Dusty back of the
Have-not.

“A Discourse in Waltz”

prompt: "leader/follower"




Leather soles whisper
On polished wooden floors.
Light bounces from sequin
To sequin speckling crisp
Shirts with colored flecks.

A firm hand at the
Small of the back,
Pushing,
Pulling,
Pressure.

A silent language
All its own.

Falling Trees & Talking Men

prompt: "falling"


The crack of
Branches, the
Crash of wood, the
Whoosh of flying limbs.

Not a soul
Around to hear.

Did it really
Make a sound?

He talks out loud in
Vowels and constants,
Stringing together
Syllables and

Not a soul is
Around to hear.

Is he still wrong?

BIRTH: Aislin Victoria Markle

BIRTH: Aislin Victoria Markle

“A Housewife’s Prayer”

prompt: "prayer"

If I don’t wake up tomorrow, I pray

Someone will pet my cats, read my

Children bedtime stories and be

Sure they take their naps.

I pray someone will feed my

Husband and help him match his

Socks, to remember Daylight

Savings Time and spring

Forward all the clocks.

I pray someone will make the

Beds and help lost shoes get found.

It seems I have a lot of things to do,

So I best just stick around.

5x7 Folded Card

Lavender Blossoms Mother's Day 5x7 folded card

Design personalized Mother's Day cards with Shutterfly.

View the entire collection of cards.

“Barefoot on Gravel”

prompt: "only one in the world"

She said she liked the

Way the rocks felt, the

Sharp ones biting

Into her heels, the

Chips in her toenails a

Constant reminder that

She’d walked away

From the only one she’d

Willingly walk barefoot on

Gravel to get back to.

“The English Major”

prompt: "on second thought"




She majored in English,
Studying Chaucer and
Breaking down Yeats.
Surrounding herself with
Words, words, words-
Hers and everyone else’s.

Perhaps she should have
Majored in something more
Useful like “World Peace” or
“Apocalypse Evasion”?

I guess she’ll just
Have to make do with those
Words, words, words-
Hers and everyone else’s.

“Message in a Bottle”

prompt: "message in a bottle"


Waxy blue crayon
Jotted on the
Back of a Chinese
Take-out menu,
Mad scribbles
Among the red
Dragons and golden
Coins, “The
World has ended.
Don’t bother coming home”

“Like a Playground Slide in the Summer Sun”

prompt: "like ____"




I have good memories of
You, and you look
Like you’d still be fun.

You make yourself so
Easy to get to; you
Practically have a
Handrail and skid-proof steps.

But once I’m at the
Top, I’ll see all that
Shiny metal that attracted me
Will just get me burnt in the end.

“Breakfast, Lunch, & Dinner”

prompt: "big picture"




She hits up the vending
Machine to start the work day,
Knowing that this is the most
Important meal and
Having heard somewhere that
Food tastes better when it
Falls from a height.

She chooses a salad with
Bits of bacon scattered
Among the lettuce,
Picking out the cucumbers and
Tomatoes, with buttermilk
Dressing on the side.

She orders a diet Coke with her
Quarter Pounder and only
Eats the fries that
Fall out in the bag
Patting herself on the
Back for showing such restraint.

“Frame by Frame”

prompt: "snapshot"




They make due
With a condensed
Version of
Childhood, seeing the

Highlights, the
Calculated shots, with
Santa Claus and birthday
Cakes, and the faces
Made at the first taste of

Cereal. Never the
Unexceptional,
Everyday things, the
Bottles, the bath times.

They watch their child’s
Children grow up with each
Flash of the
Camera and with every
Envelope of
Photos that makes its
Way across the miles;

Remembering how it was to
Watch a child
Blossom in real
Time and then
Fill in the blanks.

"Gemini"

prompt: "profile"




She says she a Gemini,
Like that sums her up.
As if she were inter-
Changeable with the
Thousands of others
Born under that
Sign. She might have
Said: she’s a natural

Communicator, who loves to
Learn, or intelligent and
Witty, restless and
Occasionally fickle,
Charming, adaptable,
Lighthearted, flirtatious,
Who’s favorite colors are
Colors of the air, sky blue and
Yellow, carefree and interested in

Everything; A feminine
Hermes, quick-witted and
Inventive, but bored easily.
No, she’s just a Gemini.

"Under Cover"

prompt : "ain't none of your business"

Trade-size paperbacks,

Broken spine
Nestled into a blue leather
Jacket,

Hiding the
Bareness of the
Cover and the

Passion
Trickling from the
Pages

“Childhood Friends, Grown Up”

prompt: "old relationship"


Nine years to her eight, a
Block away in a house that
Always smelled of black cherry
Kool-aid, and stay-at-home mom,

I saw her washing a dusty
Volkswagon with paper towels,
Trying to convince her dad
It was clean enough to go
Get pizza. A little girl

Who couldn’t pretend and
Another who ignored reality,
Filling in the days with bike
Rides and board games. Twenty

Years later, we never fail to
Send a birthday card, even though
When we run into each other at the
Grocery store, neither knows what to say.

"McKey"

prompt: "old relationship"


Homeless, she kept a small
Apartment downtown, her hair wild,
Eyes intelligent. We’d
Talk in the back room of the
Public library where she’d
Hand out Claddagh pins and sixty
Year old memories in the reference
Section. She was going to
Write a book; I wonder if she ever did.

e.e. & me...

prompt: "form/anti-form"

punct.u.a.tion is
language,
all its own; words

form-
lessly formed
dripp-ing,

drop on the
page-- Images… Imagines… Imaginations
laced with

Sarcasm

and

Rhythmy
Rhymes and often-sometimes-maybe emjamb-

ment.

"Maybe You’ll Follow"

prompt: "maybe ___"



I leave a trail of
Bobby pins
Wherever I go,

Plucking them
Out when I turn a
Corner,
Scattering them at
Intersections. Hair

Tumbling down, bit by
Bit, hoping you can
See my path in the
Moonlight.

“Missing Slivers”

prompt: "never again"


Suspicion heralds late
Arrivals, wrong
Numbers
Stored in the
Back of the mind,

Just in case.

Just friends
Reconsidered, excuses
Scrutinized.

Trust

Pieced back
Together will
Never be whole
Again,

No
Matter how
Long the glue
Dries.

“12:00, Flashing”

prompt: "time of day"

Blinking green numbers
Announce to all the
Coffee maker is back on
Line and the
Microwave is good to go,
But it seems as though I’ve

Misplaced the morning or
Maybe the sun is
Shining at midnight.
Or is 12:00 the

Alpha and omega of the
Clock world, a
Place to retreat and
Regroup when you’ve lost
Power and just aren’t
Sure of where you’re
Supposed to be?

“Beer Thirty”

prompt: "time of day"
Steeled toed boots
Kicked off by the door
Pepper the
Floor with flakes of
Mud. Worn jeans,

Once-white socks, a
Flannel shirt with loose
Buttons leave a
Trail like

Breadcrumbs to the
Chair where a callused
Hand pulls the
Tab and marks the
End of the work day.

“She Browses the Celebrations Page of the Hometown Newspaper”

prompt: "celebrations"

Curser
Hovers over the
Pictures, a

Tuxedoed man and the
Bright white of a
Wedding gown on a
Woman that
Isn’t her, an

Innocent
Newborn it’s
Statistics listed in
Italics beneath, a

Tiny life that was
Almost
Half hers.

“Celebrating Spring”

prompt: "celebration"
Returning birds
Pipe their
Approval as
Leaves
Unfurl and
Seeds
Shake off
Soil, bursting
Sunward.

“What If the Bathtub Floods the World & Drags Humanity Down the Drain”

Prompt: "what if"

Water
Trickling from the
Tap,
Not too hot and
Not too
Cold,

Rising up the
Porcelain wall and
Streaming over to
Rush down the other
Side.
Slithering

Across the
Tile,
Filling the
Floor like a
Pool at high
Tide.

On and
On,

Attracting droplets,
Expanding,
Extending.

People
Perching on
Rooftops or

Clinging to
Ornately carved
Headboards,

Legs
Churning the lukewarm
Liquid
Fusing together,

Lungs sucking in
Moisture,
Gills forming along
Ribcages,

Until

Someone
Swims down to
Pull the small rubber
Plug.

“Don’t Fret, Pogo”

Prompt: don't ___, ____

You
can’t be
sad on a pogo
stick

something about the
up and
down
motion reverses
despondency. You

look like a
fool
bouncing,
hair flying
madly and

eventually your
feet will
slip from the
pegs and you’ll have to
touch
back to earth and
reality

but

that feeling of freedom
defying
gravity and
troubles
will remain.

“Mr. Fitzhurbert’s Funeral”

Prompt: goofy/serious

Roses and carnations scent the air as Candlelight caresses black and white Photographs like a long-lost loved one.

Handkerchiefs dab at eyes, Sniffles muffled, all eyes look toward the satin-lined box and the old man peacefully resting there.

In the back row, the woman sits, her Little black dress made respectable By the shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

She buries her face in the dark fabric, Shoulders quivering, chest heaving, her Sobs barely contained.

An elderly lady to her left Pats her knee kindly, but like a sadistic broken Record in her Mind, all she can hear is a Faux British accent.

“TitsPervert,
TitsPervert,
TitsPervert.”

"Believer"

Prompt: a person

He tows his coffin through the
Streets balanced on a rusty
Radio Flyer

Hewn from cypress and pine from the
Ark and assuring his entry into
Heaven

Held together by nails of the
Cross that came from
Home Depot.

“An Unread Book by the Bed”

Prompt: the world without you


The little boy would say “Where’s Mommy?” and
forget again until his milk cup was empty.

The man would say “Now who will find my socks? and
busy himself at work, never remembering to eat breakfast.

The baby girl would cry to be held, growing up being
told she looks just like her, but never really knowing.

The unread book would sit next to the bed, a slip of paper
chronicling where the adventure ended, keeping it’s
Happily Ever After all to itself.

“The Death of the U.S. Postal Service”

Prompt: imagine the world without you

Stamps pile up
Unlicked, pen pals
Never penned,

Just Because
Cards not sent, Publisher’s
Clearing House envelopes never
Sealed with fingers

Crossed, college brochures,
Magazines, clothing
Catalogs never mailed, a

Jewish Mailman never got a
Christmas Present, or
Gave one in return.

Dear Mr. Woodpecker

Prompt: postcard poem


Dear Mr. Woodpecker,
It's 6 am.
My house is metal.
You are a moron.
Feel free to get eaten by my cats.
Thanks.
Love, Nikki

Babushkas

Prompt: postcard

Nestled in bed,
side by side,
family of dolls,
waiting to be restacked.

2011...

One more year edging us closer to the brink of destruction as Christmas melted into New Year’s Day and Janus did the whole look forward look backward thing and some people got the day off for MLK Monday. (I didn’t…)

January bled into self-important February, all puffed up with too much commotion for a measly 28 days. We played along and wondered what the groundhog would see, bought our chocolate and flowers and put out on 14th, hell, we even squeezed in Candlemas somewhere along the way…

Nothing special about March, the slacker, unless you count Johnny Appleeed Day (which no one above the age of 7 does.) Though St Patrick’s day brought out the Irish in in all of us with green things, pinching, and generally widespread alcoholism and poor decision making…

And so we’re up to April; a silly little month of fools, bunnies, eggs, and wanna-be poets brushing elbows with the truly talented (guilty…)

"Taken by the River"

PROMPT: HOW YOU GOT HERE



Skipping rocks and
Daydreaming from shore,
Miles upstream from
Where I should be;
Marooned by uncertainties,
Rapids and waterfalls.

A step into the shallows; the
Current pushes me back.

I let it.

Two steps.
I let it.

Three steps.

Will the water take me?