The Quiet One

I'm the one who snuck in,
the nobody in a corner
standing alone.
I'm the one who wants
to be noticed,
yet feels unworthy
of recognition
when it happens.
A has-it-all-together look
with eyes to the floor.
Resale shop gown,
mousy hair once platinum.
Don't tell me I'm beautiful,
I just want to watch
everyone else
having a ball.

*
Poetry inspiration:
Tess Kincaid's Willow Manor Ball 2013

The Pink Cape(R)

Intensify the early-morning moment a garbage
truck barrels down your street. Lift your arms
and wave fastidious, as if the city worker might

notice. A daunting task, rolling the trash can
behind the incinerator and trying to dump it in,
only to find your wife's pink robe collecting grins.

"Whatever works," you say, even though
it was an accident, your last-minute grab
of cover flying open like a cape.

**

Poetic Inspiration:
Poetry Jam~ It's All in the Trash
PU Verse First~ Half & Half (3 stanzas, 3 lines each)
3WW~ daunting, fastidious, intensify

Writers are Lovers

of mystery

as you can see

from the words of a poet.

Take, for instance, Robert Frost,

who in early adulthood stepped away

from poetry attempting to appease his family

with completion of higher academics, brief stints

in teaching, and reporting news slanted with a poetic view--

 

he once went on to describe a flagpole in front of the post office

as beauty with a majestic eagle who, in a mighty gust of wind,  

perched atop a pole by a stately white building,
adorned the heavens until a dreadful hunter
came along and shot it dead, that fool,
when merely the wind
knocked it down--

 

does a reporter write like that? No, only poets such as Robert Frost,

whose steps away from writing only led him back to feather pen,

can sustain wedding nights where hasty visitors knock

at cabin doors, when all around the deserted woods

no other light shines, and one is left wondering

if perhaps the stranger was the bride's true

love left with missing clues.

**

Poetic inspiration:

Poetry Jam~ Steps

PU Verse First- Writers are Lovers

3WW~ dreadful, hasty, sustain

Bedtime

He walks backward to his room
as if time walks backward, too.
One more goodnight kiss,
is there something that he missed?
Mom and Dad watching TV
when all the children sleep.

When all the children sleep,
Mom and Dad watching TV.
Is there something that he missed?
One more goodnight kiss?
As if time walks backward too,
he walks backward to his room.

*

Prompt inspiration~
Poetry Jam: Backward(s)//(s)drawkcaB

On Aging

photo by Mark Haley
courtesy of The Mag 188

*

 

I never thought my life

solitary, never wished

for anything more, until

 

gray appeared, one

strand at a time, wiry

springs a bird's nest

 

locking me within

the confines of my home,

and then I wanted

 

to go out and live my life

among people, celebrate

my remaining days. Instead,

 

I followed the footpath

to your shore, hoping

the horizon might not end.

 

*

 

October Orange

Photo by Drew Loker

**

 

Prompt inspiration:

Poetry Jam- OCTOBER

Battles of the Mind

I am; how did you guess?
Was it the fact I cried out

in the middle of the night
for King Kong, declared

him handsome and easy-
going as if he were Jesus?

Or was it the fact a lesser
god promised to center me?

**

Prompt Inspiration~
 Poetry Jam: Battles
3WW: easygoing, fact, handsome
PU Verse First: Just Past Center

Siren Songs

artwork by Jeanie Tomanek
courtesy of The Mag 184

she conversed with birds

perched in trees, she made music

 

with branches strummed, the strings

plucked like a harp, heard for miles

 

luring men she scrambled

on the sidewalk below

 

 

 

Descension Into Ascension

step right up, he said,

then threw her down

and watched her

twirl deep

into a

hole

so he

could pick

her up and lead her

step by step, the healing

path of twelve she'd only

recognize from where she's been

 

*

Poetic Inspiration~
Poetry Jam: Steps 

In a Matter of Seconds

photo by Steven Kelly
courtesy of The Mag 183

A curvy road

too dangerous

to pass.

Your

bold promise

a fishtail swerve.

The other side

ethereal.

**

Let's Talk About It

Silence like a cancer grows*
a weed within the mind's confines
that weaves obsession in the throes
of overtaking thoughts benign.

Too distraught to regulate
or yank habitual response,
this cancer of a sealing fate
soon consumes the s(u)n's blossoms.


*Simon & Garfunkel

**

Edited to elevate for Verse First:

watching weeds
thread through your mind
you find cancer

**

Poetic Inspiration~
Poetry Jam: The Sound of Silence
PU VerseFirst: Edit to Elevate- See Below
3WW: distraught, habitual, regulate

I Hope Not

When the lights go out, I hope

you're not drunk. I hope

it's not night and you're not

living in a new apartment

in a new area that's not

safe because you ran

away from an ex, yet

wanted him to worry

about you. I hope

 

you don't go berserk

and call a coworker,

quibble back and forth

about why it's dark

in your apartment

and no one else's

because you're drunk.

 

I hope she doesn't

have to duplicate

her words ten times,

get frustrated and put 

her friend-of-your-ex's

husband on the phone

to calm you down. 

 

**

 

Prompt inspiration~

Poetry Jam: When the Lights Go Out

PU Verse First: Difficulty

3WW: quibble, duplicate, berserk