Friday, September 30, 2011

Mother Ocean's Eye

In the depths of Mother Ocean
a life exists through fallen dreams
flushings from the toilet bowl
amassed together at the seams.

Lovers lost (there's more fish in the sea)
moths deemed ugly, a kitchen burn
wise owls' words wasted in water
swimming memories twist and turn

all controlled by a little switch;
click "up" for power from above
and "down," well-- self will's intent.
Why not join in this Sea of Love

and accept things as they are?
Trees dig through dirt to see the sky,
they're not victims of choices past
only scars in Mother Ocean's eye.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: Ostensible Truth/ surrealism;  Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Snap, Snap, Snap

Crushing and pinching
insults as sharp as lobster claws--
cicatricial leverage.

@laurie kolp

*cicatricial- of or pertaining to cicatrix (the tissue that forms a scar)

Prompt inspiration: Poetic Asides, Poets United Thursday Think Tank

The Treat

Amid the musky attic shelf
     (rat infested, I might add)
a Swiss cheese box from years ago
     (remnants of some rodent's feast)
is begging for attention so
     (I start talking to myself)
I peek inside, my heart a drum
     (perhaps my voice will scare them off)
with shaking hands I dig within
     (I hope no mouse surprises me) 
a Polaroid I find therein
     (survived the rat attack, I guess)
that clearly screams "print me" at once
     (a picture of the Rat King?)
I follow through to my surprise
     (I'm now humming very loud)
are Grampa B's smiling eyes
     (a treat well worth the other threat).

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: Poetic Bloomings

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

The Final Chapter

... a continuation and final installment of In the Sand. Click here to read the entire story.


The laughing grew louder and faster. I stared at the white face in the sand for only a second before I stepped back and tried to escape; but faster than a knee-jerk reaction, it grabbed my ankle and pulled me in.

Suddenly I was Alice swirling down the rabbit hole, the colors cerulean, chartreuse, emerald and sapphire spinning scenes throughout my mind. A farm, mountains and coast in the city, country and woods like a kaleidoscope changing faster, brighter, sharper until thud; I had reached the end.

I was lying on a hard surface convulsing, my body aching from head to toe. I felt cold and clammy as if I had just had a low blood sugar attack. My mouth was drier than a hayfield. I dared not open my eyes. If this was death, I didn't want to know what it looked like; but I sure knew what it felt like.

"Mom? Wake up," I heard Sam's voice calling out from the distance.

I slowly opened my eyes. "Sam?"

"Oh, thank God. What are you doing on the floor? Mike and I came in and found you screaming."

Sam was kneeling over me like an overprotective daughter, which in and of itself was a no-no by teenager standards. Mike was standing behind her and staring at me as if I had cooties or something. I sat up and looked around. The wicker furniture on the beach house porch was all in tact. The sun was shining through the window, a cooling breeze of salty air streaming across my face.

Could this all have been a dream?

@laurie kolp

Picture inspiration: Jinksy at In Tandem

The Guarantee

"Cherish all the memories;
they guarantee life's immortality."

Father David's words of wisdom
after my friend took her life
on that day three years ago

nausea drove me to the church
where magical things occurred-
blessings never to be forgotten.

(You can read about this in my story, Signs of David found in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Devotional Stories for Tough Times - to be released Oct. 4, 2011)

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: 3WW (cherish, guarantee, nausea)

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Love's Darkness

The black night veils a shadow blue
as darkness in my mind pulsates
boom, boom-- terse words echo in you.
The black night veils a shadow blue
and swings tight arms like fighting Sioux,
until love’s song my heart creates;
the Black Knight veils, a shadow blue
as darkness in my mind pulsates.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: Grace’s triolet challenge, Real Toads

Sunday, September 25, 2011

From Woman to Bird

Within the pelting rain curtain
a giant face stares at me

demanding that I turn three times

gradually my arms outstretch
like a helicopter whirling away I spin

one, two, three

sharp raindrops ricochet
as black gloves transform to wings

I turn to my blackbird lover
and we fly into the night like planes.

@laurie kolp

Picture inspiration: Magpie Tales

Also posted at Real Toads, Open Link

Saturday, September 24, 2011

French Quarter Lovers (Prose Poetry)

Strolling through the French Quarter, hungry singles look at passers-by as potential lovers. Horny men shop for immodest girls drunk enough to lift their shirts and jostle their tits; while lonely women stop and chat outside art galleries and exquisite restaurants in search of well-educated men. This is how they met-- by fated accident, or so they say; only she wore a muumuu dress roomy enough to hide a handle of vodka and he waited tables at a strip joint on Bourbon Street. Outside the St. Louis Cathedral I watched them move in slow motion, run like Chariots of Fire athletes until close enough to clutch one another in a loving embrace. Occasionally things turn out that way but most of the time French Quarter lovers wake up early the next morning, leave faster than you can say laissez les bon temps roulez. Such is the life in good old New Orleans.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration~ The Sunday Whirl... Words for 9/25/11: accident, chat, jostle, motion, move, shop, occasionally, strolling, passers-by, outside, clutch, look

I'm also posting this to Poets United Poetry Pantry

The Face

Image courtesy of Penny Jinks
{If you haven't been following along, you can click here to catch up with the story.}

Sam and Mike had been at the beach for hours. Could this foamy mess that was seeping from beneath the sand have somehow set them under a Medusa-like spell? I shook them, slapped their cheeks, blew in their eyes and pinched their skin but nothing roused them.

I turned to the elderly man who had stayed behind. "Please call for help. I can't leave them here alone."

"I've already tried. For some reason my cell isn't getting any reception. I'll go to my cabin and see if the phone works from there. If I have to, I'll drive to the police station."

After I waved goodbye, I looked down at the foam that was spreading faster than oil. It was changing into an indigo blue and purple. My eyes immediately started to burn as the distorted image's hypnotizing movement swirled around the sand.

A small white spot suddenly appeared amid the gooey blob. I crouched down to take a closer look and was horrified to discover it was a face. After popping up like a Jack-in-the-box, I placed my foot on top of the 'thing' and started twisting it as if putting out a cigarette.

Somewhere in between I heard a scream that I'm pretty sure came from my mouth. I was too frantic to pay attention. Then I removed my foot to see if my handiwork had gotten rid of the face, but it looked me in the eyes and started laughing hysterically.


What do you think happens next? Check back next week and see if you're right.

Prompt inspiration: In Tandem

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Twisting into Rain

Every Saturday at noon we sat in front of the RCA
watching American Bandstand. At times we joined
in the fun, doing the twist and jitterbug until
gasping for breath we dropped to the orange shag.

That day was no different, except for the rain
pouring down on the roof like a bathtub faucet.
Mom and Dad sipped on Mimosas while playing
honeymoon bridge at the kitchen table. Sausage

sizzled on the gas stove like Jiffy popcorn,
twisted cigarette smoke into hot grease signals
while we danced along with Dick Clark, oblivious
to the spark that would soon chase us into the rain.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspirations:
Imaginary Garden with Real Toads A Word with Laurie
Poets United Thursday Think Tank

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Two Poems

Battling Lovebugs

The big bad wolf
might resort to this form of mutilation
contorting bodies, twisting limbs without regard to humanity
baring fangs in drooling mouths, hunting

for bugs
unwanted nuisances slithering on the ceiling over your bed
crawling over tender skin buzzing, stinging until SPLAT!
they're history and you don't care

but lovebugs
cling to each other like Sleeping Beauty and Prince Charming
harmless creatures spreading messages of love united as one
until the Big Bad Wolf, which is a car, crushes all hope

and you feel guilty.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspirations: Kerry O'Conner's Wednesday challenge at Real Toads...


...and over at Poetic Asides, Robert Lee Brewer wanted us to take the first line of another poet and use it in the first line of our poem.

Finding Myself

(*after Robert Frost)

As I went down the hill along the wall*
cloaked in ivy climbing kelly green,
I saw a diamond hiding ‘neath the leaves
reflecting truth I not before had seen

for in that gem a stranger did appear
with probing eyes like headlights in the dark
through which an open heart beaconing
the image of myself His love did spark.

@laurie kolp

In Math Class

Long and tan slinky-like shavings
twist mediocrity to the tiled ground,
a sigh, a yawn, a roll of the eyes
dull pencil marks race to the sound.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: 3WW (dull, race, yawn)

Tuesday, September 20, 2011


On her iPod crones Adele
as she texts her BFF
while whirls of fear evacuate
endangered JFK.

@laurie kolp

Prompt/picture inspiration

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Constricting Snakes

They're all around me, snakes
hissing, squeezing, coiling
'round barked limbs outstretched

while I beg for your protection
against pretentious snobbery;
steadfast, these vines they wind

baited like a worm once again,
I spit back at them with bile
frozen in time, holding strong

until the constrictors retract
slither atop putrid dirt
slyly seek their next victim

it won't be me.

@laurie kolp

Prompt/picture inspiration: Magpie Tales

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Chocolate Comforts Stressed-Out Monkey

I am pleased to announce that my limerick Chocolate Bites is posted on Poetry24, a site run by Martin Hodges and Clare Kirwan where news is the muse.

Included with the poem is a link to the news article that prompted me. I'll give you a hint: wildfires, monkeys, candy bars.

Please check it out and if you have time, a comment would be greatly appreciated.

@laurie kolp

Friday, September 16, 2011


look to the crystalline
sky for clarity everywhere
else is blurred reality

mirrored by the world
we perceive bridged
this line of symmetry

@laurie kolp

**Dani (Haiku Love Songs) urged us to use a photograph for inspiration at Poetry Jam. The one I have chosen comes from my own personal stash.

***Also linked to Real Toads

Thursday, September 15, 2011

The Gooey Blob Glaze


Blood in the sand. Get help fast.

The text hit me like a juggernaut. I hurdled through the beach house, slid down the stairs and made it to Sam in no time flat. I didn't expect to see such a sight; her face a stained glass window lying lifeless on the broken shells, panicked eyes crying out in pain.

"What happened?" I asked Mike.

Sam's sapphire eyes were a sea of mass confusion and as I straddled myself over her to examine them, I thought I must look like a dog sniffing the sand; not an overprotective mother doting on her injured teenager. Who cared anyway? I was entitled.

"We were running and having fun when Sam tripped in this pile of shells."

The brouhaha had attracted a flurry of beachcombers who oohed and aahed at the scene before them. An elderly man with sun spots on his balding head stooped down beside us and began examining the fragmented shells. Within minutes he was shouting for us to leave.

"Hurry! Evacuate this area. There's been an invasion."


I followed the man's gaze to the rough peppered sand. It was transforming into smooth sand colored in shades of fluorescent greens and blues. Foam was seeping out like suds from a washing machine and covering our feet with a warm gooey blob.

Before I could open my mouth, Mike had scooped up Sam. But then he just stood there frozen and looking quite amiss.

"Hurry! Get Sam to the cabin. Take care of her until I get there."

Mike did not budge. Did he not hear me? I repeated myself and still no response. So I went over to him and poked him on the cheek.

"Hello? Anyone in there?" I said in his ear. Nothing happened. I looked at Sam. She, too, had the glassy glaze in her eyes and she was as still as a mannequin. That's when it hit me.

...please come back next week for more of the story.

@laurie kolp

Picture Inspiration: In Tandem

Life is a Glass House

Can you really see me?
Is my life not but a glass house,
an open book for your omnipotent eyes
from which I cannot hide nor run away
because you are everything
you know my path
and I trust you.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: Poets United Thursday Think Tank, Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (Epistle poem)

Wednesday, September 14, 2011


Backward stroke through heavy air, trees
cedar, oak, pine these seething embers exude
pungent winds that drift away with ease

tall timbers of omission breathe at last
and mourn the fallen permanence
unfortunate demise, inferno's blast.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: 3WW (backward, ease, omission)

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Salvatore Buttaci's PUN-KU

My pal Sal (author/poet Salvatore Buttaci) has created a new four-line, seventeen-syllable poetic form I would like to share with you. On his blog, Sal's Place, specific guidelines are given for Sal's PUN-KU. What it boils down to is this:

Line 1~ 4 syllables- a
Line 2~ 5 syllables- b
Line 3~ 4 syllables- c
Line 4~ 4 syllables- c

As you can tell by the name, the poem contains a pun on one or two words in the poem, and the subject matter touches upon human nature. The title is one or two words.


 Here's mine. It was quite a challenge! What do you think?

Try Yourself

an idol mind
bored and critical
fanfare melee;

@laurie kolp

Have fun with your PUN-KU and please do share.

Monday, September 12, 2011

the biting breeze carries
high-pitched voices;
gossip travels fast

@laurie kolp

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Through the Eyes of a Father and Child

Dear Father-
Reaching the ceiling
with relentless resistance;
you must have hung the moon.

Dear Child-
Innocence fresh and pure
as white cotton from the field;
you are the moon.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: Magpie Tales

Building a Bottom Up

The shrill voice said it was urgent, come now
and I was a lion roaring down the highway pass
cutting in and out of traffic, honking horns,
darkened night the void that filled my mind

with horrific thoughts of impending doom,
a rash of tragedy to build his bottom up;
could I withstand this not so simple man?
A jolt of dignity mustered bold strength

to scrape the nerve I needed to approach
this brewery lying on the ground smiling
ankles crossed, hands in pockets limp;
will he still be happy when he comes to?

@laurie kolp


Prompt inspiration: The Sunday Whirl, also shared at Poets United Poetry Pantry

Saturday, September 10, 2011

It Started with This

It started with just a tiny sip
of daddy's frothy mug at six
never to be forgotten
that craving, yearning
until she was spiraling
out of control
bonging kegs
snorting coke
mixing prescription drugs
more, more, more
forgery, theft
more drink
more drug
too much
not enough
unreachable highs
uh-oh, caught again
halfway house
                      (will she surrender?)
one trip with bath salts
a smoke of K2

It started with just a tiny sip.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: Poetry Jam

Friday, September 9, 2011

In the City

Allegro walked the pompous jerk
twisting and turning through hordes of people;
a Nascar driver on Manhattan’s business track.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads (A Word with Laurie)

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Blood in the sand. Get help fast.

The text hit me like a juggernaut. I hurdled through the beach house, slid down the stairs and made it to Sam in no time flat. I didn't expect to see such a sight; her face a stained glass window lying lifeless on the broken shells, panicked eyes crying out in pain.

"What happened?" I asked Mike.

Sam's sapphire eyes were a sea of mass confusion and as I straddled myself over her to examine them, I thought I must look like a dog sniffing the sand; not an overprotective mother doting on her injured teenager. Who cared anyway? I was entitled.

"We were running and having fun when Sam tripped in this pile of shells."

The brouhaha had attracted a flurry of beachcombers who oohed and aahed at the scene before them. An elderly man with sun spots on his balding head stooped down beside us and began examining the fragmented shells. Within minutes he was shouting for us to leave.

"Hurry! Evacuate this area. There's been an invasion."


...please come back next week for more of the story.

@laurie kolp

Picture Inspiration: In Tandem

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Mind's Eye Rotten

Your igneous heart destroyed me
pierced shards of metal right through me;
an irksome toy long forgotten
gathering dust in the garage,
as varmints erode love's mirage.
A wildfire ignited cotton;
high-pitched sirens bridle the course
all observe destruction in force.
Plowing fields, my mind's eye rotten.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: 3WW- erode, heart, observe; Poetic Bloomings- Poetry form~ Nove Otto


A Remix for Poetic Asides:

After years of pyromaniac destruction
infusion through my heart a wildfire path,
I found the courage to let you go

like a toy that won't stop sounding
deserted in the garage, a varmint
rotting my mind's eye of love.

@laurie kolp

 Poetic Asides- a remix poem

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

So, Breathe

Even in the depths of suffocating despair
there's always something to reach for
something to live for

so, breathe

inhale 1, 2, 3
exhale 4, 5, 6

think past the pain, see the light

inhale 1, 2, 3
exhale 4, 5, 6

reach for the light
live for the light

@laurie kolp

Prompt/picture inspiration: Poets United

Purls of Pearls

I'm standing at the window looking out;
war and hate and death and fire and flood
are stitched into my mind these words I sew
a clashing patchwork quilt with threads of blood.

But then I see a flash of red and blue
birds sitting side by side beneath the seed,
taking turns, respecting each wing's space
as others peck at bark from Father Tree.

And all at once I'm filled with inner peace,
I know this moment here is everything;
no war nor hate nor death nor fire nor flood
can ruin purls of pearls sweet nature brings.

@laurie kolp

Read more poetry at dVerse Poetry & Poets United

Weeds as Flowers and Homes as Castles

Holly picked flowers for her mum
from the backyard bed unattended

only to watch as her mother
made a wish for a bigger house
blew, then threw the stems away

only to approach the scarlet rosebush
and proclaim them a better choice
pick, then prick her middle finger

Holly gathered flowers for herself
and ran inside her safe castle.

@laurie kolp

Poetry inspiration: One Single Impression (Weeds), Carry on Tuesday (No place like home)

Monday, September 5, 2011

blowing bubbles
a Monarch flits by
autumn splashes

@laurie kolp

Written for: Imaginary Garden of Real Toads

Heard anything funny lately?

*This is my submission to >Language>Place Blog Carnival, edition 13,Christopher Allen's I Must Be Off

Conversations can be so ludicrous sometimes, don't you agree?  I've had some humdingers I'd like to share with you. Grab a chair and take a seat; let's talk.

The first conversation took place at a business dinner Pete and I had with another couple. None of us had ever met except for Pete and the other man. I don't remember how we got onto talking about deviated septums and sinus surgery, but that's what was buzzing at our table when Pete said he couldn't smell anything as a result of his turbinates being zapped ten years ago.

The wife leaned in and said this, "I smell like a dog."

Then, faster than an English teacher, she corrected herself, "I don't SMELL like a dog, I smell like a dog smells."

We were laughing when I said, "And I get upset because Pete can't smell the dogs."  Nor the chickens.


The other conversation is one I had with an old man I love dearly. He always has a story to share and it always revolves around his dry sense of humor.

He said his wife was happy today because he had bought her a brand new computer for her birthday.

"Usually I give her those sappy, sentimental cards and that's enough. I always tell her to pick out some jewelry or something, but she never does. So I felt like I owed her about 10 years of presents when I got her the computer.

"Now, when my first wife was in the hospital she wanted me to bring her a book from home. So I grabbed the first one I could find without even a second glance, until I got to her room and saw that it was Robin Cook's Coma. That didn't go over well at all. I think I'm doing better than I used to."


Have you had any funny/interesting conversations lately? Come on, it's your turn. I'm listening.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Scarred, Then Marred

Sinking in pebbled mud
inadvertently marred,
a junkyard of memories
unintentionally scarred.

She stumbles upon
the truck they once shared,
speeding teen love
until drunk, he despaired.

And now she's left
unintentionally scarred,
sinking in pebbled mud
inadvertently marred.


@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: Magpie Tales, Poets United

Sweet Nothing Secrets

Some women with birdlike appetites crawl to the salad bar
fill their plates with hordes of green and red blooms
their pallid chins quivering as they pass the meat rack
and dessert tray, sweet nothings they never know.
But like a goof you hitch yourself to every tantalizing
presentation studded with grease and fat
drizzled in oodles of butter, thickened cream sauce,
then tackle those edibles like a football player
after the Super Bowl, only to excuse yourself
to the ladies room for long stretches of time.
Who do you think you're fooling?

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: The Sunday Whirl


Thursday, September 1, 2011


Stop and look at the beauty
Unfolding before your eyes
Natural as the sun above
Flowering in Autumn's arms
Like a smiley face stamped
Over your heart with love
Winding yellow happiness
Every time you sneak a peek
Revealing who's in charge

@laurie kolp

Poetry inspiration: Poets United Thursday Think Tank

Microscopic Shells

Courtesy of Natasha/Tashtoo Parlour

Blood in the sand. Get help fast.

The text hit me like a juggernaut. I hurdled through the beach house, slid down the stairs and made it to Sam in no time flat. I didn't expect to see such a sight; her face a stained glass window lying lifeless on the broken shells, panicked eyes crying out in pain.

... to be continued. Please come back for more next week.

@laurie kolp

Inspiration: In Tandem with Jinksy