Poetics – Fantasia – When the Weeds Conspire

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On days when I’m not at my best

I feel the urge to step outside

Breath in the air

Look at my garden

Proclaim to every weed: “Today is your day.”

They roam willy-nilly

A law unto themselves.

I have this sense they see me coming

Their roots I’m sure dig a little further in

There’s a rustle among them

For in my mind I hear them conspiring.

The Bathurst Burr arms itself

The nut grass goes a little more nutty

Their take over fantasy world is under threat.

I arrive with cutters, choppers and scrapers

I arrange them like a show of strength

My weapons against their stubbornness.

And they do fight, the burr sticks to me

I find them later on socks, shorts and shirt

My hands are calloused, a thorn or two strikes victory

As I negotiate the tangle of weeds and once proud plants.

By days end I stand triumphant

In my hands the weapons of mass destruction

The garden again is mine.

But I fantasize that deep within the soil

Seedpods containing the weed troops

Are ready and waiting for when I slacken off.

 

Written for: https://dversepoets.com/2016/04/12/poetics-fantasia/

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2016 April PAD Challenge: Day 12 – Seriously Silly

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For today’s prompt, take on one (or both) of the following prompts:

  • Write a serious poem. Or…
  • Write a silly poem.

 

Seriously?

Are you for real?

That is just plain silly.

 

My Grandma was a serious woman

She made lemon tarts

And very fruity farts

But she never admitted

To what she committed.

 

Grandpa was a silly old man

He did things ever so willy-nilly

Like buying a chestnut filly

The horse could run like all crazy

But its future was always so hazy.

 

Life is full of the seriously silly

We see it playing out each day

In circumstances come what may

When little green men come to visit

Word gets round you’d be mad to miss it.

 

Written for: http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2016-april-pad-challenge-day-12

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Photo Challenge #108 – Making me Whole

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Image: Albert Finch

I arrive home

A long day no excuses

Its always work work work.

I’m tired, I’m cranky,

I know you will be upset at yet another late night.

A note on the kitchen table says:

“Dinner in in the oven.”

To tired to care I eat

What is now a burnt offering

But I dare not complain.

I eat in silence save for the distant

Rhythms of the songster

In whose words I know you bathe.

Not for me such soothing sentiments

Having left you high and dry.

I enter the bedroom, the music plays

I cannot see you,

I feel chastened by my tardiness.

I begin to undress and feel your arms circle my neck.

Yours are caressing hands

Caring hands, loving hands

You whisper you have missed me.

The buttons on my shirt

Slip between your fingers

Your hands slide over my chest

I take in a sudden breath.

You suggest you shower me.

What follows is the purest of indulgence

My day washed clean

We are an exercise in adoration

Awakening to loves delights.

You do what you do best for me

Make me feel whole.

I hope I do that to you too.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/04/12/photo-challenge-108/

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FFfAW – Week of 04-12-2016 – Ribbit!!

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Image: provided by BarbCT/Knotholes and Textures.

It was all innocent.

The poor woman found herself shoeless at the airport her shoes having been confiscated by customs. Gingerbread was contraband in this country.

She didn’t look like a witch in fact she appeared a very glamorous woman. But when I saw her, tears streaming down her face I felt sorry to see her in the predicament she was in.

Being a salesman for the Aces Shoes Company I had a pair in my display case that thankfully fitted her. So as you can see I was just helping her out.

We struck up quite a conversation and she was on her way to the Witches Convention in the Fairy Kingdom and was to speak on the Virtues of Modern Witchery.

As we parted company she placed her hand on my shoulder as we went our separate ways.

I have to say that since that day I have this irresistible urge to spawn.

Silly thought isn’t it. Ribbitt!!

 

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2016/04/11/fffaw-week-of-04-12-2016/

 

 

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2016 April PAD Challenge: Day 11 – In My Defense.

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For today’s prompt, write a defensive poem.

I protest innocence

I wasn’t even there

I was somewhere else

In a woman’s arms

Loving and being loved

I couldn’t have done it

It’s not my style.

I dispute the video evidence

I wasn’t even there

It must be a set up

I’m a good man

People say I have an honest face

I could sell used cars

You have to believe me.

The witness is obviously wrong

I wasn’t even there

It was a wet day, the video shows sunshine

The victim was left-handed

I love left-handed people

This is such a miscarriage

I am left hanging my head.

 

Written for: http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2016-april-pad-challenge-day-11

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Wordle #105 “April 11th, 2016” – Seamus

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This week’s fabulously interesting words: Needless Awake Monument Space Macrocosm (the great world or universe; the universe considered as a whole (opposed to microcosm ).The total or entire complex structure of something. A representation of a smaller unit or entity by a larger one, presumably of a similar structure. Philosophy Nuzzle Impress Lacerate Reveal History Monachopsis (n. the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place, as maladapted to your surroundings as a seal on a beach—lumbering, clumsy, easily distracted, huddled in the company of other misfits, unable to recognize the ambient roar of your intended habitat, in which you’d be fluidly, brilliantly, effortlessly at home.)

Seamus’ mother looked out her bedroom window and saw her son sitting in the six by four hole he had dug in the back yard. She worried about her boy who was not as other children were. Needless to say the fact that tomorrow was his twenty-fifth birthday did bother her, as he had neither job nor ambition apart from digging holes and sitting in them.

She has scoured the Internet looking for a word to describe him and had found it in the appropriately named Dictionary of Sorrows. Monachopsis. That described her boy. He was clumsy his own shadow was at risk of injury when he walked around, he was easily distracted as was evident by asking him to run any sort of message like going to the butchers was an adventure as he had to walk past two bookshops both of which had attractions he couldn’t resist which usually meant his arrival at the butchers was just as the butcher was going home.

It was true she thought that her son just didn’t fit in. His head was a space in which only he knew what was going on.

He was the most undemonstrative child. Whenever she would nuzzle up to him he’d shy away as all her efforts to impress him and impress on him her love and affection were thwarted at every attempt.

She feared that he would never awaken to the world around him it was as if he lived in a macrocosm of a world that didn’t really accommodate her. There was so much for him to consider and explore he didn’t have time for mere human foibles.

Even when he had his accident and his leg was badly lacerated and must have hurt like crazy, he didn’t complain just asked his mum to turn on the History channel and get out of his way.

Every hole he dug was a monument he said to man’s philosophical growth and development. Most of Seamus’ head was full of philosophical thought. His mum thought it reflected his mixed up view of the world.

But Seamus was not deterred, as he believed in philosophical thought even when it made little sense to anyone else. He would reveal some new thought that had occurred to him usually resulting in him being further classed by his siblings as a raving lunatic and his mother should have had him locked up years ago.

But now that his mum had discovered her son was a monachopsist she felt progress had been made as she watched him sitting comfortably in his hole staring up into the heavens where if you could have been standing beside him at that moment you could have been mistaken in thinking he was speaking to some entity before him.

Monachopsists live in a macrocosm of a world as opposed to the rest of us who struggle within the confines of our own microcosms.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/04/11/wordle-105-april-11th-2016/

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Moral Mondays: “Never Talk to Strangers” – Defiant Child

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Defiant child stamped her feet. Arms folded, pouting lip there was no telling her.

Stranger danger she ignored and so often in the street she would disappear only to be found in earnest conversation with a person unknown.

No amount of reasoning made any impression on her.

When she was fourteen she disappeared. Out shopping her mother looked around and she was gone.

CTV footage showed her walking away with a man no one knew. Hours turned to days to months. It was the sombre policeman at the door who answered their question.

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Written for: https://moralmondays.wordpress.com/2016/04/10/moral-mondays-never-talk-to-strangers/

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2016 April PAD Challenge: Day 10 – Black Dog

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For today’s prompt, pick an emotion, make it the title of your poem, and then, write your poem.

When he was happy he laughed to split his sides

When he wasn’t he was glum as the darkest day.

 

One day he went away and we can’t find him.

We see him but he wont come out.

 

Now we are the ones who share the glum

We are the ones losing the laughter in our days.

 

The black dog sits at his front door

Keeping us at bay, guarding him from us.

 

One day we know he’ll come out to play

We’ll laugh and wonder where he was those days.

 

Written for: http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2016-april-pad-challenge-day-10

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Writing Prompt #154: Look to the Stars – From The Stars

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From the Stars.

He looked at the man before him and thought what an excuse for a human being he was. Scrawny and unfed, with he suspected a brain the size of a pea. He was there because he continued to bash his wife. ‘Love pats’ the man had claimed. So loving was he of his wife she had broken ribs and several teeth missing. Quite the lover he thought as he took the man in.

What he was about to do was revolutionary. What he could do no one else could. He knew he had a rare power and he knew he had been entrusted with it. How it came about he had only vague recollections.

Walking home and a bright light. Darkness then more light. He thought he must have been dead. He could see stars, but real ones.

Then voices, requests, a bargain, his help and no more physical ailments for him….sounded like a deal to him and then he was back in his house.

The next day a man visited him, explained what he could do said there was a training program, he’d have to leave home, be away no questions asked. He knew he didn’t have any reason to object as they had cured him of all his aches and pains in fact he never felt better.

The rigorous training regime was eye opening. He had powers beyond his initial imagination but it was the hours at night talking with the sage that enlightened him the most. He could if he wanted change history. But that was not his role. His role was to support the downtrodden against all perpetrators of evil.

This he discovered included the sex offenders, the wife bashers, the scam artists and the down and out scumbags who populated every country.

He spent six weeks with an aid, a man from the stars who witnessed his actions and gave him advice when needed. Over the time of his ‘apprenticeship’ he learned compassion and retribution.

Now he was on his own and had acquired an assistant an intelligent young lady who prepared ahead of his arrival every case he was to consider.

Today he was hearing this case of the serial wife basher. The man who thought his actions justified. Who thought fear of him was the ideal way to conduct a relationship.

The woman in question was a mouse of a girl beaten into submission by a man who was basically a coward, who picked on her, as he knew how helpless she was and had turned this woman who could have been a reasonable human being into his punching bag.

He always spoke softly, he always spoke with deliberation. It was to the man in question a soft approach and the man laughed at his suggestion that as of tomorrow he move out and find himself somewhere else to live.

When the man had finished he softly reiterated his wishes and suggested the man sleep on what he had said. The woman looked terrified as her husband told him in no uncertain terms where he could put his suggestions and that he would sleep well and tomorrow his wife had better have his breakfast ready or there would be trouble.

The man smiled briefly and dismissed them all.

The next morning the husband awoke and looked around. The sun was shining and the birds singing. The walls of his room he thought needed painting. The colour pink came to mind but he replaced that with a lovely pastel lemon.

He could hear movement in the kitchen and thought his wife might like a hand, as the kids could be a handful.

She looked her usual dowdy self but he thought she should get out later and go to the hairdressers.

He sat at the table and sipped his tea. His wife was cautious. Something was wrong. Who was this man? This wasn’t the pig she was used to.

Later that morning she heard him scream. He was in the shower. She raced in. He stood there. It was a moment of realisation. He had gone from admiring the shower curtain to understanding why. She looked down.

The man who had terrified her for so long had no testicles.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/04/10/writing-prompt-154-look-to-the-stars/

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2016 April PAD Challenge: Day 9 – Obscene Lullaby

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For today’s prompt, write a hide out poem

“Coming ready or not!”

The words aren’t shouted

But whispered.

Their lilt I know

The tone familiar

The intimation terrifying.

Outside is dark

The world is asleep

My innocence stolen.

The creak of floorboards

The soft squeak of my door

Herald the monsters arrival.

There is nowhere to hide

I slide further under the covers

As I feel him slip in beside me.

I tremble knowing that next

Will be his fingers

And their obscene lullaby.

 

Written for: http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2016-april-pad-challenge-day-9

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments