“Wistful Reverie on an Afternoon”

A breeze whispers through the

Trees.  I think I’d like to

Fly away. Surely tree-top

Conversations are much more

Pleasant than anything to be

Had in a fancy restaurant

Full of towel-armed waiters?

Ripples lap at the shore line, stealing

Pebbles. I think I’d rather grow

Gills and dive, deep down to a

Place where words don’t

Exist so we’d just shake fins and smile.

                          poetic bloomings- prompt #20

"SOME KEYHOLES NEVER LEARN"

“I know just what you’re thinking,”
Said the keyhole to the key,
“But I object and will not let
You stick that thing in me!”

“Who knows where all you’ve stuck yourself,
By accident or not?”
The key then blushed a shade of rust;
He knew that he’d been caught.

“Those other holes mean nothing, babe!
You’re the only one for me!
After all what's a keyhole
Without her special key?”

"You know that we’re a perfect fit
And I make your insides turn.”
The keyhole sighed and said, “Alright.”
Some keyholes never learn!

"Summer Promises"

Poetic Bloomings "View from a Park Bench" picture



Fall nibbles away at summer’s
Potential as the sun fights its way to the
Piebald ground,
Bartered for shadows by nearly lifeless leaves, knowing
All too soon they will lie in
Bleached heaps and be blown into gutters,
Soaking up the sunbeams while they still can.

That season of openness, of tank tops and
Candor, closes. Hidden
Now behind coat buttons and scarves
Wrapped round and round and round.

A park bench sits empty and thoughtful, its wooden slats
Remembering the warm,
Cloudless days when young lovers
Sat with thigh pressed against thigh and made their
Summer promises.

“Doppelganger”

"Poetic Bloomings: etheree"

 A

Stranger

Strolls in, and

Plops himself down

In your favorite

Recliner, props his feet

On your wife’s coffee table.

Smirking at you with your own face.

Your voice, not yours, snags onto your brain,

“Now how long do you plan to be content?”

*based on Shelley's supposed encounter with his doppelganger just before his death

“Everyday Magic”

PA- "when you're not looking"




The drone of the vacuum
Smothers all other sounds,
Its pull and push painting
Pyramids on the deep green
Carpet.

On a handmade blanket, a
Little one balancing on her
Belly, head wobbling on a
Fragile neck, polka-dotted
Diapered bottom wiggling.

Pulling out chairs and
Maneuvering around end
Tables, a milestone is crossed. A
Helpless baby a little less
Helpless as she rests on her
Back, legs kicking, giggling at the
Antics of the ceiling fan.

Right in the middle of the
Everyday living, a little bit of
Magic pokes in; until one day the
Vacuum is switched off and
You’re surprised to find
She’s all grown up.

“June on the River”

prompt: water   


Old tennis shoes
Scruff up dust on a
Country road and matte
Back inner tubes float
Along a lazy river,
Hovering over hopeful
Fishing hooks.

As the sun sets, and the
World’s lit up only by
Starlight, fireflies, and
Campfires, laughter
Floats through the
Darkness and soothing
Breezes carry a whiff of
Burnt marshmallows.

And in the night, the
Crickets croon and
Rain tings and chinks on the
Old tin roof. And it’s
Summer.

"Karma"

prompt: "on the other hand"



She’s the kind of person

Who doesn’t think
Twice about dropping

All the coins in her
Pockets into the jingling
Cups of the homeless,
Takes in strays and
Gives them silly names, and
Never forgets her grandmother’s
Birthday. At the checkout,

She offers to pay for the
Items the family with the sad-
Eyed little girl can’t afford,
Lets people out in traffic, and
Sends notebooks, pens, and
Crayons to the troops in the
Hope that they can help spread

Kindness before the children are
Taught to hate. She mails
Big Red soda to the troops from
Texas, because she knows
What its like to be far away and
Crave the comforts of home.
She doesn’t expect a reward



And yet



Shouldn’t the Universe
Protect her from the her
Opposite? Shouldn’t their
Natures would be so
Disparate that they wouldn’t
Even be aware of the other’s
Existence?

There are only so many
Cheeks to turn, so

She shakes her head and
Writes a poem and dreams of
Surrounding herself with
Only with the kind ones.

SEED

See the way the world still turns
Even though you’d thought it’d stop?
Every day the holes in your pockets
Drop the seeds that grow into tomorrow.


Poetic Bloomings - "seed"

"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.