As my friend and co-creator, I hope you'll comment on these fledgling poems. They hatch out daily on Twitter @everydaypoet and migrate here.



Sunday, March 28, 2010

Purple Prose and Poetry

* * *

100328

WRITERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE—

Ornate excess, clich├ęs, and slang
overload the whole shebang.
Who can tame the purple page?
Who can spur your words to fly?

When you just can’t get the hang,
hang out with the Zane Grey gang—
masters of the purple sage;
sage “Guest Writers in the Sky."


100328

SURFACE FLAWS

With the touch of a wand
in those anti-wrinkle ads,
facial lines appear or disappear
to age or rejuvenate a face.

While personhood remains intact
behind placid model eyes,
skin conditions
condition perceptions.

Thankfully, the peekaboo
reveals how easily
even these mistakes can be undone;
with the touch of a wand.


100327

SHARED LUNCH

I knew what was up
the minute he proposed shopping
at straight-up noon.

Braum’s is the kind of place
where you can get
bananas and bread
along with your burgers and fries.

Half a loaf
went to the ducks
at the pond by the library.

The geese, Canadians,
barely deigned to sample.
The mallards grazed
but didn’t gobble.
It’s spring—
they have other things
on their minds.


100326

WHAT A DEAL!

I do my part;
he does his.
Mine involves
the shopping list.


ANSWER

There is an answer.
There is always an answer.
The only time
there is no answer
is when you pre-conclude
there is no answer.


* * *

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Fire and Ice

* * *

100325

ANAGRIM

Someone has evil
in his very name
and can't veil his breath:
a vile, live, evil flame.


100324

FIRST TEN HITS

I feel so stressed.
I feel so behind.
I feel so old.
I feel so empty.
I feel so stalked.
I feel so good.
I feel so unloved.
I feel so accomplished!
I feel so…….down.
I feel so badddd.

[ASIDE: Random Twitters.]


100323

SLICK

Our foot of snow arrived quickly,
sandwiched between layers of sleet.

Taking in the scene this morning,
I decide: “Any exercising done today
will be done indoors.”
Then I notice sparrows, exercising
their fruitless search for food.

So, in boots, nightie,
and borrowed husband's robe
(husband's borrowed robe, that is),
I trek outside to a the crest of the lawn,
carrying a dishtowel
and a mixing bowl filled with
breadcrumbs, cereal, and seeds.

To free my hands before spreading
the towel on the icy surface,
I set the bowl down—and down it goes:
down the knoll, down a rut in the long
winding driveway and, from there,
whirling and bobsledding,
down the street toward the lake.

My trek just became extended
and my exercise decision un-decided.


* * *

Monday, March 22, 2010

Snow Days with Pirates

* * *

100322

WHITE LAWN

The lady
drops
her handkerchief.

The gentlemen
watch,
cold and stiff.

[ASIDE: Mother Nature brought a foot of snow;
menfolk immobilized.]


100321

UNSEASONED

Flinging snow like an apprentice,
Mother Nature came, this solstice,
like some newbie, fool, or novice;
some amateur in need of practice.


100320

WHAT MAE BE

Mae West was well blessed
with what let's call a chest.
And here is something more—

“Mae West” as "life vest"
started out as simile,
became a metaphor,
then turned so eponymous
they’re practically synonymous.

[ASIDE: Wisdom House challenge entry]


100319

STUCK BECAUSE NOT

What is missing?
I have no clue—
except one thought:
my life needs glue.


100318

VISITED

Do you suppose Mary
went around
explaining to the neighbors
what God had wrought,
so as to not
scandalize them or
keep them in the dark?

Do you suppose
we neighbors now
are being made privy
to miracles gestating
in the Marys and Magdalenes
next door or down the block?


100317

THE USUAL

Feeling
unusually glad—
about feeling glad,
as usual.


100316

INSTRUMENTAL

By reading, I know
words can ring—
as, on your stage,
mine dance and sing.


100315

PILING ON

Oh, by the way,
this day of Caesar-cide
(this Ides of March and “Brutus Day”)
now coincides
with “Buzzard Day.”

Well, to my mind—
the birds are much maligned.


100314

PIRATE TECHNICS

Pirates have at their disposal,
as they plunder on the sea,
quite a number of choices
in arsenals of weaponry:

flashing swords and gashing knives
(of which they’re such aficionados);
cannonballs, canisters, stinkballs, and mines;
pomegranate-shaped hand grenados;
blunderbusses, muskets, and musketoons,
plus pistols of every description;
fire-arrows, torches, rockets, and flares.
These all must be used with discretion.

Their best measure
is to seize without a fight.

Fire backfires—
they lose treasure
when they set a ship alight.


100313

REFLECTION

All my parts I daily meet
(the ones that meet my eye)
are slender: arms, hands, wrists;
my calves below the thigh.

“Envision,” say my diet books;
learn to “Think yourself thin!”
Well, were it not for mirrors,
I would think myself thin.


100312

JUST JOY

Joy, joy, joy!

Just joy I find—
Someone’s playing
with my mind.


* * *

Friday, March 12, 2010

Joy and Pain

* * *

100311

"O’ WAD SOME POWER"

Hello, again, everyone.

I am happy to report
that my 24-hour lipstick does,
in fact, adhere for the duration.

I have learned to apply it
without resorting to a mirror
and (thanks to a bulletin I received
just moments ago), I can attest that
it adheres equally well to teeth.


100310

CRAMMED

Hurry, hurry,
don’t be late!

There’s no room
to ruminate.


100309

FISHY

I only looked;
he was a winker.

When he said
we would wed,
he had me hooked—
lyin' stinker!


WHY?

"Where is the city?
I hear that it's pretty,"
the chicken asked the road.

"Several miles north,"
the road sent her forth.
But road was just trickin'
and so the plot thickens.

Why did the road
cross the chicken?


100308

MORNIN’, SUN!

Hello,
my mellow
yellow fellow!


EXERCISED

Check me out—
can anyone tell,
do you suppose?

I feel like I smell!

What?
With your nose?



100307

PEST ASIDE

Just a comment:
I haven't thought it through,
but I suspect
some awful trade's been made;
that you earn your life
by signing on
as God's assassin;
that he doesn't do his own
dirty work.


DAILY REVOCATION

from sleep sublime,
dawn pries my mind—I rise

then comes the crime—I fall
back in; back into time


100306

COMMON QUEST

to make play pay
but still stay play


100305

INCREMENTAL

Major griefs
from minor beefs—

how they load us;
those petty hurts
we never used to notice.


* * *

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Grammar of Friendship

* * *

100304

"NATIONAL GRAMMAR DAY" LIMERICK

There might come a time when I were.
This sounds almost wrong; I concur.
But, in grammar school,
subjunctive rules rule;
I’d be smart if I “were” to defer.

[ASIDE: This was done for a contest with a short deadline.
But I got caught away from the computer and wasn't able to
submit it on time.]


BELATED CARD

I may have forgotten your birthday AGAIN!
. . . and I may forget next year (it’s WHEN?)
but you’re on my mind most of the time
and I’m thrilled just to call you my FRIEND.


100303

FACILITATOR

She has no hesitation
to express her point of view.
She has no doubt we love her—
and so, no doubt, we do.


100302

TWITTER-TIME

Your words—so funny, sweet, and wise—
often fill me with surprise.
Greetings, all you Tweetie-Pies!


* * *

091227

COMPANIONS

Feeling lonely.
Feeling feeble.
Feeling lost and glum.

Lady Bug and Scarab Beetle—
how kind of you to come.

[ASIDE: December poem notes found and edited]


* * *

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Birds and Bard (Dr. Seuss)

* * *

100302

THEODORABLE (for Carrie)

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss!

To you, I raise a glass of juiess,
saluting what your words prodeuss—
fun and joy that tame abeuss.
Thank you, Engine! Signed, Cabeuss.


PORTAL

When you choose
an opposite way;
when you lose your bearings,
all that you bear, and all
that has borne you;
when you cast yourself out—
as you exit the city gate, notice.

The little bird
hidden in the bush
beside your path
still sings for you
its melody of kindness.


100301

CONSIDER THE BIRDS

Consider the birds;
their value is immense.
Consider the world
with no insect defense.

One recent spring
bugs arrived early,
birds arrived late—
an incipient pestilence
slow to abate.

Consider the world
with yearly such springs.
Consider the world
with no birds in the wings.


“CATHARTES AURA”

When is a buzzard
not a buzzard?
When it never was!
(That’s the buzz. )

Europeans decry our
lack of orni-culture.
Hawk, they claim, is buzzard.
(Our buzzard is their vulture.)


* * *