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.



Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Winter Sprouts

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110201

PRE-SNOWSTORM

Dear media,
be speedia.

Politics, crime, gossip, sports...?
We want weather reports!


110131

MAIS NO! MAIS OUI!

Pleasure means feeling good.
Guilty means feeling bad.
In truth, can people claim
“guilty pleasures” they've had?

The terms are oxymoronic,
separate as vinegar and oil—
but, if egged on, they may (oh!)
merge in a marriage royal.


110130

A LITTLE NUTHIN’

Pomes make homes
fer minds, I think.
Sum o’ them are logs.
This’n is a chink.


110129

HEALTH FOOD FORAYS

In the aim of health and the form of seeds,
I bought some chia for my pet,
by which I mean my husband;
he who claims that sprouts are weeds
and the taste of pulses repulses.

Pre-diabetes has him hexed
and I'm sure he's wondering what is next
in the way of seeds and weeds.
Though I don't plan to feed him vetch,
I'm keen he be keen on quinoa.


110128

EARLY THANKSGIVING

An early wake, an early rise,
comes today as a surprise—
a gift to squander or invest;
to rust-and-rest or do my best.

So, using pen as my voice,
I choose to make my highest choice
of how to spend this interlude:
a litany of gratitude...

for every person in my life,
for my role as someone's wife,
for health and wealth and soul and mind,
for Nature's wonders, and Divine.


110127

AT THE CLUB

Round and round,
we're walking laps;
we don't want
our health to lapse.

Round and round,
laps on laps;
laps on laps
till we collapse.


110126

UNEXCEPTIONAL
EXCEPTIONS

In every season,
come unseasonable days—
extra hot or cold.

For some reason,
people seem amazed
when such days take hold.


110125

DEAR CATS

Thank you, cats,
for something new
(especially a certain
one of you).

How long’s it been
(one week? or two?)
since you’ve mis-placed
your pee or poo?


110124

PRE-DIABETES

Do not let this
be defeating.
Master wholesome
ways of eating.


110123

TROUBLES, KNEE DEEP

"My knees, my knees,"
he groans. "I don't know if I can
make it to the top of the stairs
with these knees."

"Well, don't leave them
at the bottom," she protests.
"I'll be sure to trip over them."


110122

THE RAISING OF THE BAR (for Susan)

We had a peek, this week,
at a friendly small-town town,
one that deserves renown:
Morrilton.

So solicitous of us
were the people there,
they raised the bar on care.
"Thanks. Well done."


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