Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 100

Sorry for the late prompt time today. I’ve been busy cooking up my first ever batch of Brunswick Stew, which means that Baby Will and I were shopping for ingredients at the Kroger this morning. Last night, the Brew Crew was “Back to School” shopping–looking for clothes, scissors, glue sticks, paper, crayons, etc. And recently, Tammy and I have been driving through Georgia neighborhoods shopping for houses. Why am I telling you this?

Maybe because today’s prompt is to write a shopping poem. Your poem could be about clothes shopping, grocery shopping, car shopping, shopping poems to literary magazines, shopping for a partner, or whatever. There’s so much shopping to do!

Here’s my attempt:

“Brunswick Stew”

Whatever doesn’t kill you can probably be canned
and sold at the market. A jar of green beans and a bag
of hot boiled peanuts. Maybe some fresh peaches for pie;
vidalia onions for cooking. Every recipe for Brunswick stew
is different from the next. As a person who enjoys measuring
things, this annoys me to no end. But Tammy smiles and reminds
me that it’s those differences that allow us to personalize our dishes.

*****

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*****

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148 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 100

  1. Monica Martin

    I do not shop for clothes,
    jewelry, handbags, shoes.
    These are not my creature
    comforts. I shop for books,
    yarn, film. These are the
    items that give me relief,
    warmth,comfort, love.

  2. Walt Wojtanik

    CAN’T BUY ME LOVE

    McCartney and Lennon penned the pine
    of how love without a price tag is fine.

    A constant struggle of hearts entwined,
    is sure to play tricks upon your mind.

    It breaks your legs, leaves you stationary,
    a lifetime alone could look truly scary.

    The love market in flux (that really sucks),
    and sex on the streets can cost you some bucks,

    but that’s not love. Just a cheap substitute,
    even if you as "John" thinks she’s cute.

    Or he. Who am I to judge? Love is commitment.
    The true value is measured in your contentment.

    Money won’t cut it, so it’s best not to deal.
    The wonder of love can be had for a steal.

    Love is a ripple, a drop in the water,
    spreading in directions you never thought of.

    Hitting targets along the way
    and bouncing back to you, it may

    bless you in ways you’ve never foreseen,
    so throw it out there, you’ll see what I mean.

    This is the rub; the heartfelt rule,
    to think of it now, the concept is cool,

    It seems the more that you give away,
    the more that comes back to you to stay.

    And such is love!

  3. Sara Gwen

       
    Well yeah I may not be the one to be putting that one out there, but you have to admire his shopping style. Doesn’t try one on and send it back to the rack as not making him look good enough or not fitting right. Doesn’t pick over what’s available, bypassing what’s too old, too dowdy, too bland, too anything not good enough. But then even when the price is outrageously exorbitantly excessively extreme, he just waves his hand at the entire inventory and says, "I’ll take one of each," not leaving any behind. No return. No exchange. Then manages to put every worthless item to good use, to create something of value of every single nothing. You know I’m not amazing at all if I do no more than acknowledge a good shopper when I see one, and whom to thank for having that to see. For what it’s worth coming from the least.

    As for the earlier effort, thanks for the wowwing. Maybe the sad one who inspired that poem can take some comfort in those responses, I’ll let her know (yes, the real story behind it had the genders switched).

    As always, enjoying reading each and every word posted here. Looking forward to tomorrow’s new inspiration. Peace all.
       

  4. Barbara Ehrentreu

    Went back to read more carefully and found:
    Linda – yours reminded me of yesterday when I looked forever for something only to find it at home.
    Sam – Sadie Hawkins brought me back to those fearful Jr.High days and those awkward dances after school when no one ventured to the other sex’s line.:) Great!
    Jacqueline -I liked Petite. Did you know that size 14 is the average woman’s size in the US? So if you’re under that you can feel good! I have in my life been above that and currently am a little under that.:) I loved how you described the moment when shopping is embarrassing. Also liked Dollar Store.

    Walt, THE PRICE WE PAY shows what a great father/husband you must be. it’s a window into the thoughts of someone who appears to be confident in all he does and who appreciates what you can’t get with money.:)

    Pearl you popped up even during your vacation and I love that you love my poem.:) I almost felt like I was eavesdropping, but it was definitely a poetic moment.:) I love your Shopping for A Context and these lines: "the skittering, silvered, slivered flashing, fading, forever
    of life turned, tossed, tumbling"

    Sara Gwen, brilliant use of form in Purchased. You always amaze me!!!

  5. Sara Gwen

       
    Purchased
    (found)

                       You
                       are
                       not
                      your
                      own
                       for
     you are bought with a price
                   therefore
                     glorify
                     God in
                       your
                       body
                       and
                          in
                      your
                     spirit
                      which
                       are
                      God’s

       
    _________________________________________________________________________________   
    (1 Corinthians 6:19-20, mulling the ultimate price, who paid, and the worthlessness freely purchased…)
       

  6. Pkp

    Shopping For A Context

    Shopping for a context
    the skittering, silvered, slivered
    flashing, fading, forever
    of life turned, tossed, tumbling
    in which to hold

    originally….

    Shopping for a context
    The scattered items of life
    In which to hold

    Or as a haiku

    Shopping for context
    living left
    overs fast to hold

    Over and out….
    Sorry for repeats signal poor out here apologies if spacing off
    or if it is. I who am spacey!!!

    Read as quickly as I could
    Barbara delightful…ice cream. scoops
    Sara Gwen…..add another WOW to your collection!

  7. Walt Wojtanik

    THE PRICE WE PAY

    Sleepless nights, worrying,
    scurrying to make ends meet.
    Life unscripted and replete
    with pitfalls and pratfalls

    only to rise to your feet
    to greet the new day. In a way,
    a fruitless gesture for this
    jester and his court of cohorts;

    two daughters and a wife,
    his joy (or trouble and strife).
    Playing the role as assigned,
    save for the one to which he aspires:

    A husband, a dad, long ago lad,
    one time cad, and a carpenter’s son.
    Doctor for every scrape and burn,
    teacher for all to learn and apply,

    a regular guy, with a way with words,
    a brother, a son (the middle one),
    Car mechanic, financier, music composer,
    poetic proposer, two time loser,

    recovering boozer, crash survivor,
    life reviver. Man of the house,
    reclaimed spouse, (part time louse)
    when it fits her mood. But what good

    does it serve if he swerves from the course
    to which he was born. Just a man, a dreamer
    who keeps putting off his desire for the fire
    of others. If he had his druthers,

    he would stop denying his destiny.
    But he bides his time, hoping his rhyme
    stays fresh and in demand, taking a stand
    with little more reward than a terse thank you.

    And when your spirit plummets to a new low,
    they show their softer side. You swell with pride
    with each tender "I love you, Daddy/Honey!"
    It’s funny. The price we pay is minimal.

    For on the subliminal, the message is clear,
    the value of return on that investment of you,
    reaps life’s benefits long after you’re through.
    For what it’s worth, the best that money can’t buy

  8. Jacqueline

    Dollar Store

    Check in all bags at the door
    while I follow you around
    like the petty thief that you are
    making certain you don’t steal
    my goods.

    You fit the profile so well:
    Broken english, quiet demeanor,
    an illegal immigrant, I’m sure.

    Wait!

    My opinion of you seems premature,
    a little hasty, a tad inhumane…
    Thanks for the purchase.
    Please… come again.

    (c) jh 8/9/10

  9. Jacqueline

    Thanks, Colette. Your Shop-o-phobic is brilliant. <3

    Petite

    The section of the store
    she does not waste her time in;
    Shangri-la for the slim,
    the small and slender.
    She spends her legal tender
    in the big-boned section
    where the two-digit-sized women go;
    She won’t admit it though,
    like the time she was caught there
    by an acquaintance…
    …merely browsing.

    (c) jh 8/9/10

  10. Barbara Ehrentreu

    Need to add a few more words:

    Version 2:

    Shopping on the Sidewalk

    The three year old boy ran his tiny hand over the
    rough concrete squares of the sidewalk
    pinching his index finger and thumb together to pick up a
    small speck, moving to the crack where another prize lay
    wedged into it. A white tube of paper thrown there by a
    thoughtless pedestrian after he or she had sucked
    the poison out leaving a stub waiting for the eager
    innocent fingers of a child to find and maybe
    bring the prize to his lips. At that moment his father,
    who had been staring ahead, barely listening to his
    daughter at his side ask, “Do I have a necklace at your
    house?” saw the scene and picked up his son.

    Dwarfing the boy’s hand the father opened his palm
    for the treasure. Held in the grip of his son’s fingers
    it fell silently as time stilled. And as finally it landed,
    a miniscule piece of a flower petal, I looked on
    the sidewalk seeing for the first time a rosebud
    and petals strewn here and there. The boy trampled
    over the bud. His shopping was done.

    Listening to the girl’s question I knew why the father’s eyes
    sat lackluster in his pallid face as he stood in line
    to buy Dairy Queen

    why the man stared ahead ignoring the two cherubs at his side
    and why when he finally got up to the counter they carried cones
    with scoops larger than their heads.

  11. Barbara Ehrentreu

    Shopping on the Sidewalk

    The three year old boy ran his tiny hand over the
    rough concrete squares of the sidewalk
    pinching his index finger and thumb together to pick up a
    small speck, moving to the crack where another prize lay
    wedged into it. A white tube of paper thrown there by a
    thoughtless pedestrian after he or she had sucked
    the poison out leaving a stub waiting for the eager
    innocent fingers of a child to find and maybe
    bring the prize to his lips. At that moment his father,
    who had been staring ahead, barely listening to his
    daughter at his side ask, “Do I have a necklace at your
    house?” saw the scene.

    Dwarfing the boy’s hand the father opened his palm
    for the treasure. Held in the grip of his son’s fingers
    it fell silently as time stilled. And as finally it landed,
    a miniscule piece of a flower petal, I looked on
    the sidewalk seeing for the first time a rosebud
    and petals strewn here and there. The boy trampled
    over the bud. His shopping was done.

    Listening to the girl’s question I knew why the father’s eyes
    sat lackluster in his pallid face as he stood in line
    to buy Dairy Queen

    why the man stared ahead ignoring the two cherubs at his side
    and why when he finally got up to the counter they carried cones
    with scoops larger than their heads.

  12. Sam Nielson

    Sadie Hawkins

    We went to school that
    Junior High day expecting
    English, algebra, and social studies
    But got a Sadie Hawkins day dance.
    The boys were quick-marched into line
    At the tip of double-barreled
    Yardsticks, the girls timidly
    Lined up five yards behind.

    The prize awarded the victors in this
    Evolutionary footrace, this order
    Of species, an awkward eon of feet
    On the lunch hall dance floor.

    At the starter’s gun the boys ran,
    Rabbits from bewildered lionesses.
    The lucky either caught one,
    Got caught by one or escaped.

    All in good fun they say.
    The lunch hall solemnly observed
    Few willing feet under the
    Psychedelic flash of disco ball.

    The police wall lineup continued
    All around the room, each
    Gender-separated convict eyed
    The other cellblock inmates.

    Under the dim lights,
    The beat turned around
    To the electronic voices
    Of Gibbs brothers, Commodores,
    Art & Paul’s woven harmony,
    A Jackson Five rhythm,
    And the lawyer-like Beatles
    Pled Let It Be.

  13. Sara McNulty

    Just read some new ones here. Sharon – excellent poem; Sara G. – Moonlight Soul Shopper – Powerful
    Colette D. – Shop-o-Phobic – Loved it!

  14. Kimiko Martinez

    I’ve only been able to skim this week, but what a delightful bunch of poems. From fun and light-hearted, to moments of heartbreak, whimsy, social commentary, and lovely little Mars vs. Venus situations.

    Great work, poets!

  15. Linda

    JUST SHOPPIN’ AROUND

    I’ve looked high
    and I’ve looked low.

    I’ve looked under rocks,
    in trees,
    heavenward,
    and on surface streets.

    I’ve turned my attention to others,
    seeking this precious gift.

    I’ve traveled the world
    in search of this special item.

    Never finding it,
    I have returned home.

    To my astonishment,
    the thing I needed most
    was right there waiting for me.

  16. Colette D

    Sam Nielson ~ I like your confession… it IS poetry to me!
    Taylor ~ shopping outside… lovely! BTW, now I also saw your name on p. 122 of 2011 Poet’s Market, and I’m sure it’s on many others, too! 🙂
    Marie ~ Mauled! :)))! I tease my husband thus:
    Don’t take me to t h e – m a l l –
    I might buy t h e m – a l l !
    Ellenelizabeth ~ How SAD. Pure cruelty.
    Cara ~ HaHa! Have you heard this old joke: What does a mathematician with a job say to a mathematician without a job? Paper or plastic?
    Megan ~ Love your Hubby Shopping! (Stay away from the bargain bin, even if it seems like it might be better than shopping for one.)
    Claudette ~ Shopping for photos? Fantastic! I liked how you applied this phrase to both the photogs and their customers.
    Jacqueline ~ sweatshop, so true. Too true. Disgustingly true. I want to tear this shirt off my back!!!
    S.E. Ingraham ~ Shopping for Care = shopping for something that is not for sale. That’s why I forwent a career – I don’t trust anyone. The parental guilt is poignant in your last stanza, and it’s compounded by the act of having to shop for a casket.

    Phil Jurasinski ~ Welcome, if you are new. I loved your Quixotic Quandary. Sly use of the TWIX at the end, when you were caught betwixt your intentions and your weakness!

    Mary Kling ~ Shopper Not is simple yet great! I’m sure that was your point. Yes, experiences are better than things. That’s why my house is decorated with books and toys. Who needs knick knacks?
    Pearl ~ Congrats!!!
    Barbara ~ Thanks. Of course, as with every stereotype, I couldn’t fit exceptions into that poem! It was all in fun though. And clothes shopping? Oh, I could write a doozie about that! I have dropped many times from that too, and especially when Hubby gets home with clothes he didn’t try on. . . I’m sure you know the rest!!

  17. Colette D

    Theresa ~
    I used to have a rhyming love/hate
    until an idea arrived of late:
    My brother said he’s disinclined
    to poetry employing rhyme.
    But I decline
    to match his mind,
    for I do find
    if you can design
    the meaning in your mind
    and also make it rhyme
    (however refined),
    that is fully fine,
    verily divine,
    and worthy of a mind
    like Mr. Einstein!
    Now that is perfectly silly, and I’m nobody special to say, but I think a poem takes its own form and scheme when written from pure creativity. I believe true poetry takes on a life of its own. So if a poem wants to rhyme, just go with it, don’t fight it, don’t worry about it. If that’s the way the poem takes shape, so be it!

  18. Theresa Cavicchio

    Sara Gwen – My apologies for getting your title wrong ("Moonlight Soul Shopper"). Sorry about that. I know that sometimes choosing the title is more difficult than writing the poem!

  19. Theresa Cavicchio

    Dr. Pearl – enjoyed your comments on rhyming
    Barbara E. – thanks for the mention; much appreciated
    Colette – great work, so many interesting takes on this prompt
    Sara Gwen – "Midnight Moonlight Shopper" is a wow; powerful, vivid images and use of alliteration and our old buddy, rhyme; great job
    Sharon – sad realities in yours

  20. Kim Yvonne King

    There are so many delightful takes on the shopping theme.

    So fun to read everyone’s version. I’m starting to get bogged down already and school doesn’t start for 2 weeks! Here’s my version:

    Poetic Shopping

    They push their carts to find a word. Their lists
    are long, the shelves are full with nouns and verbs
    and adjectives. He starts in produce, picks
    up fruit, some smooth and round––rotund and orbed
    or bulbous spheres of plumpish curved balloons.
    She slides to deli, looks aghast at meat,
    so chooses cheese of mustard, sallow, buff
    and ocher. Peeking, glancing, spotting carts
    nearby, they notice items put aside.
    Comparing poems, words arranged in rows,
    they “borrow” themes and recipes to cook.
    The choice is made; the clerk then rings them up.
    The words are counted, bills are paid, but they,
    the poets, linger near the door with bags.

  21. Barbara Ehrentreu

    First of all Marie Elena, interesting thoughts in Choices. The idea that time could shop for the moments in your life. I shudder to think sometimes where time would find me.:)

    Sara Gwen, I second Marie Elena and add that this was like a dance number in a musical. You have the she-devil wandering around looking for a tempting soul. Then you have the stranger ripe for it. She and he dance together in a wild routine and then he collapses against her and she leads him off. The scene changes and it’s daylight and he wakes to an empty pillow next to him, but with the knowledge he has been changed forever. Sad and powerful!!!

    Colette, I enjoyed the shorter poems, but you nailed it with the last one! Great answer for the women. But I do love shopping!! Still it’s all in the list making when you have a big trip. What you didn’t add is some men, my husband included, like to add impulse items that they wouldn’t ordinarily use.:) I liked the number jump too.:) I think it’s the way they think. There are definitely differences and that has been proved by research. When it comes to shopping for clothes my husband goes in and out and gets what he came for if they have it. Women tend to browse for clothes and unless they are going on a trip or preparing their child for camp or school they don’t make a list for clothes. It’s food shopping that gets you if you don’t have a list.:)

    Others I liked: Phil, Dennis, Sharon – very sad and powerful. I’ve had experience with this in insurance.
    Claudette, shopping for photos – I’ve done that looking for free ones. Theresa your poem is so powerful!!!

    More later if I can. I know I’ve missed some, but I will be back to talk about them. Too many good ones

  22. Colette ;D

    Ok, Walt and Bruce, you axed 4 it…

    ~ The Shopping Talents of Women Vs Men ~

    – – – The Only Chapter – – –

    A. WOMEN

    1. List

    Make a list
    check it twice
    let’s do the shopping!
    This is gonna be nice!

    2. Store-Hopping

    Visit more than one store
    to find the best deal.
    That’s the only way
    to find a real steal!

    3. Gathering

    Keep your eyes open
    for additional essentials,
    impulse items,
    and any good specials!

    4. Garnering

    Get home and stock your shelves;
    you’re done with your shopping chore.
    You won’t need to shop again
    for twelve weeks, or maybe more!

    B. MEN

    1. Listless

    Don’t make a list.
    No need to think twice.
    I only need one item—
    that’s my mnemonic device!

    2. No Store-Hopping! (Until Further Notice)

    Visit one single store
    to buy one single item.
    It may cost me more,
    but that’s the value of my time!

    3. Blinders

    Look straight ahead.
    Purchase only what you sought.
    Walk right past things you need.
    Don’t even spend a thought.

    9. Blunders

    Get home and remember
    twelve things forgotten in zeal.
    Returning to all those stores
    will double your shopping ordeal!

    { for the record, I despise shopping. So to me, one long day of inconvenience is worth twelve weeks of efficiency, whereas my husband will go shopping every single day, despite also despising it! }

    { for the astute of eye: You noticed the Men’s section jumped to 9 items? Yes, that was intended, and yes, it does mean something. Or two somethings. 🙂 }

  23. Colette ;D

    ~ Retail Value for Great Amateur Tennis ~

    Decent racquet, $250;
    club membership, $200/month;
    the perfect shoes, $150;
    professional lessons, $100/hour;
    quality racquet bag, $75;
    dri-fit shirt, $49,99;
    crisp new balls, $6.00/day;
    but most importantly:
    Confidence, free!
    Attitude, free!
    Thinking I was going
    to say priceless?
    Refund please!

  24. Colette D

    ~ Shop-o-Phobic ~

    The multitudes on Fakebook
    believe friendship is free..
    I’m not buyin’.

    The other mothers in the playgroup
    list shopping as their hobby.
    I’m not sold.

  25. Colette D

    ~ Homeland Economics ~

    The government advises that shopping
    will stimulate the economy.
    I’m not buyin’.

    In the welfare line for a handout –
    is this the meaning of “free”?
    I’m not sold.

  26. Sara Gwen

       
    Moonlight Soul Shopper

       Midnight moonlight sliced through window boards
       into the river tavern like a hot moist tease.
       Does casual choice bring its own rewards
       or does chance make up its own penalties?
       Straight in she burst as though everything they’d ever sinned,
       violent as wildfire, as loose turned open as a hard winter wind
       losing any and all controls,
       like men grasping at their beers for any pleasure within range,
       like women wrapped at their poles.
       She asked "Who here wants what you’re wanting most to exchange?
       I’ve come here shopping for souls."

       For each customer a uniquely crafted flirt,
       for each piece of soul a close fitting bait.
       Tonight only pleasure, no one gets hurt,
       nothing to hold back, no need to wait.
       Her shopping filled the shot glass to every risqué toast,
       her trade in kind proving you ever only sacrifice most
       what you most already lack.
       Each ran up the tab no thought to what might get owed
       when the glitter had faded black,
       lining up rounds on the house years on down the road
       on the odd chance she’d be back.

       Left last sat a stranger only passing through —
       "No thanks," he resisted, "my soul’s all I’m not.
       My heart’s already stolen by every love I knew.
       I lost my family wealth, my real name I forgot.
       My head’s gone lost the instant this crazy journey commenced.
       Forgive me but no, my soul’s all I’ve left going up against
       what’s left of who I am.
       Neither magic nor science nor darkest art
       will get to me, sweet ma’am.
       I’ll not shop my soul, it’s the only part
       for which I give a damn."

       "Your name I will put on every man’s tongue.
       The most precious riches’ll be yours to own.
       Your heart, your love will go back to young.
       Your mind’ll be the greatest minds’ve known.
       Don’t decide between, you’re not forced to choose
       one or the other, take them all, what’s to lose
       that you wouldn’t want to?"
       Her lips were the wheel, her eyes the dice,
       her body the devil’s due
       doubled down as the stranger named his price,
       "The cost of my soul is you."
       
       As darkness turned away flew our buyer’s kiss,
       as darkness turned back lay our seller’s loss,
       at morning’s first light came a lover to miss
       and a silence with no song to make it across.
       The hole left in moonsetting fog where she’d taken off
       felt so real, he could feel her word calling back soft, soft
       as away his own word passed.
       And when the music driven through forgotten dreaming stopped
       in the shadow he now cast
       was when he knew his soul was not the first she’d shopped
       nor was it to be her last.
       
       

  27. Marie Elena

    CHOICES

    If time stood still,
    Where would it find me?

    What thought would be eternalized?
    What emotion infinitely felt?
    What act, ceaselessly displayed?

    If time stood still,
    Where would it find me?

  28. Pkp

    Quickly before signal vanishes…Sharon stunning in all orations of word
    Barbara thanks slightly abashed to hVe posted a personal poem with names included.. Must be islands melting all boundaries
    Theresa ah rhyming. As a former teacher and before that as a child…..disparaged rhyming verse as so how. " less than"…. "real serious artistic poetry did NOT rhyme intoned some processed interior voice…it was quite a booming voice…. I enjoy rhyming but admit my bias still holds and includes my own poems …..rhymes are fun but the "real stuff" rhythm yes but from rhyming run! Interesting discussion….another thoughts out there?

  29. S. E. Ingraham

    Shopping for Care

    Exhausting, that’s what it is
    Going from place to place
    Interviewing owners, and staff
    And you know, no matter
    How much research you do
    Or how careful you are
    It’s going to be a crapshoot

    I mean, look at that poor Mom
    In Stoney, she did everything
    Right and still, her toddler?
    Dead in emergency – the daycare?
    Not at fault, the baby fell hard
    It could happen to anyone

    Two days later, another –
    This time an infant in Leduc
    Rushed to a medical centre
    Unconscious, barely breathing
    Shaken baby syndrome
    The determination, but, why
    The mother wails, I checked
    Their references, I did

    Shopping for a funeral home now
    The parents have little energy
    For this task – who would?
    And yet still, they are getting
    The feeling, even through their
    Grief that there may be a way
    To do this wrong as well

    S.E.Ingraham©

  30. Barbara Ehrentreu

    Pearl, I just read the unicorn poem fast but there is so much love in it! Hope you’re enjoying your stay there. The wedding sounds amazing and so does your daughter:)

    Marie Elena no matter what you call it it’s name is nightmare!
    Hope you are having a better day today!

    Will return later with more comments. Off to go shopping:)

  31. Marie Elena

    Thanks Theresa!

    Barbara, the DMV (we call it “BMV” here, for “Bureau”) is the most exasperating place, isn’t it?

    Jacqueline: *Slapping hand to head* Oh, duh! You DID make that clear, didn’t you? What can I say? Just chalk it up to yesterday. =(

    Pearl, I commented out on FB. LOVE the photos, too!

  32. Theresa Cavicchio

    Sara Gwen – Thanks very much for your thoughtful response (which reads quite beautifully in its own right, by the way). I would love to see the versions you have done. Can you e-mail me at theresacav@rcn.com please? Also, I’ve noticed that you often use indenting. I can never get that formatting to work on this site and have been wondering how you do it. Many thanks!

  33. Pkp

    Jacqueline….. Oh no!….. As far as ADD goes….might try taking the longer poems and breaking them into bite size chunks so they digest easier….posted one here tonight on wedding that I am in virgin islands broken in thesis qua tern form into four stanzas with a repeating verse…give it a try….if you like write me at facebnok …. Enjoy

  34. Pkp

    Sorry…..poem ends with we love you…iPad. Clumsiness and a banana daiquiri have part of poem reposting?!! Apologies just wanted to share the news with the street !

  35. Pkp

    Finding The Unicorn.

    After shopping for a unicorn for many years ….. One was finally found and carried to a far off tropical island where the little girl transformed into a woman and took the unicorn as her husband

    For Cori my unicorn bride

    It was august of the 6th  Two thousand and ten
    And a new chapter of life’s journey was about  to begin
    The page turned softly in the warm fragrant air
    As Cori and Robert memorialized their love and for each other their care

    Yes, it  was august the 6th in the year of two thousand ten
    Childhood memories swirled vividly about like a glimpse of yesterday 
    On today…. this ….  your wedding  day

    Of unicorned satin tiny pillows 
    strung with glittered stars 
    from the ceiling on invisible thread
    So when you woke in the morning they 
    floated sparkling round your bead

    A smiling little girl quiet, …..yes quiet,….
       powerfully resilient and certain strong 
    Who sang always to the music 
    of her own true compassed heart song

    Father ‘s baby girl…    
     to me birthed through the center of my heart
    A different powerful love born of mutuality did impart

    We laughed in hot chocolated winters and dreamed  of a day 
    when from the cold and to the islands we would commandeer all and 
    simply run away

    Years have ribboned slowly through life up until the sweet night here.
    When my sweet daughter of my  heart joins with her love  so dear

    A perfect union of the woman  you ‘ve become adventurous  spontaneous and free
    I want you to know that ideally this IS the way a mom and daughter run away to be

    For each mom knows that the greatest love you can give
    Is raising a daughter who embraces life in her own way to live!

    And so I stand before you with a proverbial blessing on your smiling glowing  head
    As you are now joined  in marriage with Rob in a love that stands primary above all others in their stead

    Enjoy the memory making 
    enjoy the laughter and the fun 
    enjoy the hand that will be there to hold when all is just begun. 
    Run in joy down through each day  and hold fast when day is done

    For my little unicorn bride daughter of my heart
    Take my love with you and your father ‘s, your  brothers, sister in law, nieces friends and
      of course    new family too
    .love sealed and witnessed by us all at this the culmination of both of you
     
    On this softest night of august 6th in the year two thousand and then ten ..
    .let the love sparkling brightly,    warm you always 
    as hand in hand 
    wife and husband you begin…

    Off you go…..enjoy the ride!

    We love you ….

    enjoy the laughter and the fun 
    enjoy the hand that will be there to hold when all is just begun. 
    Run in joy down through each day  and hold fast when day is done

    For my little unicorn bride daughter of my heart
    Take my love with you and your father ‘s, your  brothers, sister in law, nieces friends and
      of course    new family too
    .love sealed and witnessed by us all at this the culmination of both of you
     
    On this softest night of august 6th in the year two thousand and then ten ..
    .let the love sparkling brightly,    warm you always 
    as hand in hand 
    wife and husband you begin…

    Off you go…..enjoy the ride!

    We love you ….

  36. Dennis Wright

    This One Here
    (Is Rhyme Necessary?)

    As I opened the near dresser
    drawer to grab a shirt that is
    starch stiff waiting there for
    me to muss its clean drawn lines –

    I see perfect relax and ease
    almost too clean to slip my hand
    through the almost attached sleeves
    in these measures sure and fine –

    Would it happen the same enough
    if no iron drove to form this
    clean shirt I go to put on and
    muss its clean drawn stiffness?

    Might I further reach a casual
    shirt in another open drawer?
    It is relax and ease and too
    clean that finds me at this one here.

  37. Sara Gwen

    Theresa, I enjoyed your Yellow Pages. And just one novice’s opinion (and a novice who studied under the guidance of one who believed that every word rhymes with every other, much in the same manner that I am related to you if we track things far enough down the line), but although frequently pure rhyme can detract or even damage a poem, there are numerous times when it is as necessary as the patterns of geese flying south or bands of rain or a child’s eyes reflecting mom’s or the millions of other repetitions of sight and sound nature brings us. </lovehate> As for Yellow Pages, maybe try an exercise I’ve been taught: take the extra time to try to write a "better" second draft that removes all perfect rhyme, making sure to stretch toward making it what you would think an improvement on the initial imspiration. I’ve taken the liberty of doing several private versions of your Yellow Pages already, and although I know I’m not the one to be workshopping anyone’s work, I think you’ll find the same thing I’ve been finding: not only is your poem a good one, but it works well – maybe even best – with its rhyme. But like I say, just one reader’s feedback.

  38. Phil Jurasinski

    Quixotic Quandary

    My life is full of shopping carts
    and my decisions are different aisles
    but all the products upon the shelves
    seem to leer at me like gargoyles
    staring from the parapets of Notre Dame
    and waiting for me to break the intense concentration
    of deciding what I really need
    so they can prey upon me
    in a moment of non-contemplation.

    Thus I bear my pen and list
    like a broadsword and red-crossed shield
    and stab that impulsive dragon in the eye
    when I see Capri Suns on a half-off sale.
    So I swerve like Heracles
    and show my ingenuity at the start of every labor
    I shirk the temptation, like Ulysses,
    at every box and every flavor
    of Fruit Roll-ups, Skittles, and jelly beans
    since they are my Circe and Calypso–
    alcohol is my Villefort
    and I am the Count of Monte Cristo.

    I make it to the checkout unscathed,
    resisting chips in favor of brussel sprouts,
    but still a Twix seems to slither past
    and turn sacrosanct Eden inside out.

  39. Claudette

    To Shoot or Not To Shoot

    Shopping for photos. Where to start?
    Shall we try in town or country?
    Will we use people just for fun,
    Or would you rather buildings now?

    We could go up the mountain too,
    Shopping for photos. Where to start?
    Is a question best left to hearts
    Desiring records of good times.

    Buyers of shots taken today
    Will flock to sites like yours, you see,
    Shopping for photos. "Where to start?"
    They’ll say as they pick and choose one.

    Sunset on the mountain so fine.
    Haze and coolness, deer and promise,
    Of northern lights to guide our way,
    Shopping for photos. Where to start?

    I just wanted to congratulate everyone on such wonderful poems for this prompt. I haven’t had time to read any since 3:30 this morning, but I’ve seen the quality of subs before this. I look forward to catching up on my reading here later tonight.

  40. Barbara Ehrentreu

    Thanks Margaret!

    Marie Elena I have had days like that.:) In fact just had a day that might have come straight out of Kafka.LOL Dealing with the CT DMV and registering my cars. A waking nightmare! And no registration at all.

  41. Theresa Cavicchio

    Okay, so I’ve done some reading. Some favorites:
    Walt – got me with the industrial sized you-know-whats. A real hoot!
    Megan – you captured some of the tragedy of Alzheimers; it hit home hard
    Bruce – my husband’s great at that purse-carry too; you hit it just right
    Daniel – pithy commentary, very cleverly put
    Salvatore and Marie Elena – great haiku, both

    Hopefully back for more later. Happy weekend, all!

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