For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Once Upon a (Blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Example titles could include: “Once Upon a Time,” “Once Upon a Moon,” or “Once Upon a Stage Accepting the Nobel Prize in Literature.” Hey, a poet can dream, right?
Here’s my attempt:
“Once upon a chair”
Climb onto a table
and call for daddy
to come get you–
unless you decide
it’s a good idea
to jump to the floor.
Then, ignore
that feeling that
maybe just maybe
this isn’t a good idea
and later–when
daddy is holding you
and saying, “It’ll be
okay,” and, “What
were you thinking”–
figure out what you
can climb on next.
*****
Follow me on Twitter @robertleebrewer
And learn more about writing, publishing, social media, and more at my other blog: My Name Is Not Bob.
*****
It’s one thing to write poetry; it’s something completely else to get it published. Learn how to do so effectively with the 2012 Poet’s Market, edited by Robert Lee Brewer. This year’s edition of the annual guide is loaded with articles by poets such as Taylor Mali, Sandra Beasley, Sage Cohen, and others, in addition to hundreds of publishing opportunities.
Once upon a memory
a soft and gentle touch
brushed my forehead
like a sigh
as my mother brushed
and braided my hair
knowing there were
three more girls in line
and yet then
in that tiny moment
I was the one that mattered
the one that must
have every strand
smooth enough
for retrospection
did I ever
measure up?
Loved the imagery in this, Patricia! I had four daughters and remember doing their braids. They all are wonderful woman, now.
Beautiful! Loved it
Lovely
“in that tiny moment I was the one that mattered”
Oh, Patricia, this is absolutely wonderful. ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL.
Great “Take” Reminds me of my own daughter at age 7 having her hair braided at dock side in the Bahamas after we got off the cruise ship. A cute little white girl all braided and beaded up like all the little black girls on the island. Moments in time to remember RMA
This is the line that reached out to me, too! (As I of 8 children, special moments like this were extra special.)
I was one of eight as well. 4 girls, I was the third, then 4 boys!
Boy
Girl
Girl
Boy
Boy
Boy
Girl–me!
Girl
BEAUTIFUL, Patricia.
Good job Patricia.
Everything rests upon memories, and you have captured that beautifully.
Love this, Patricia. Especially nice–the double meaning twist at the end.
Nice. Ending with a question is a lovely way to continue the poem…
Here’s a quick one to start off, will be back later with another.
Once Upon a Prompt
Bleary-eyed poets
Grasping for inspiration
Will seize any straw!
“YAWN!” You caught me waking up with a straw in my coffee!
Isn’t that the truth, Mary! Great “quick one!”
Yep, yep, yep!
Well said !
totally !!!
i guess many of us even create the straw in imagination 
LOL
I love yours. Robert. Was he/she hurt? Both my offspring are mountaineers and it gets a bit serious when they fall off! things.
After raising four daughters, who have presented me with five grandchildren, so far, I have known many of these moments, Robert! My youngest grandchild, the only boy, climbed up onto the closet shelf on his mother. She was looking for him everywhere. Finally, found him when she heard him giggling to himself!
Robert, loved yours. My daughter bloodied her nose falling off a chair just this past Monday.
Robert, that’s really funny! And you can just SEE the look in their eyes that’s measuring all the other things to climb, even while they’re still teary…
I’m not really faster than Walt. This is yesterday’s poem
What is the aim of love?
There is a hobo who loves in the woods where I toss
An apple each morning. I’m not
Sure of his bush, which
Speaks to the
Question
Of
Aim
Oh, Genevieve, this is good! The twist of word meaning is excellent!
that’s supposed to be
hobo who LIVES in the woods
Oooh
Excellent! This offers so much for the imagination and the intuition to play with.
Once Upon a Dream
the door flung open, allowing
all the dragons loose,
scurrying here and there -
their scaly tails knocking ideas
hither and yon, like huge baseball bats;
their fiery breath burning theories
before the imagination could even
begin to from the hypothesis;
anything left got grabbed in their claws
torn to smithereens and eaten, until
the day a white knight arrived,
releasing the princess
locked in the tower of doubt,
allowing her to smack the dragons
hard across the nose, which, of course,
brought them to order,
which enabled the princess to dream
her dreams of love, success and happiness
ever after without the need for nights
or days filled with doubt.
A wonderful fairy tale, and I loved the happy ending. ^_^
Once upon a roller coaster
don’t get off until it stops.
*
Once upon a downhill path
take your feet from the pedals
and enjoy the ride.
*
Once upon a good idea
grab it while it’s there.
Write it down before it goes
or your brain will forget it.
*
Once upon your heart’s desire
sweeten him with poetry
tend him, love him, make him happy.
Take your feet from the pedals”,!
I love that line, also.
How did you come up with so many different complete and creative thoughts in so short a time, so early in the morning?
It was after lunch here. I don’t get the prompts until around 2.30.
Like your lessons, as well as cautions
Once upon a time
I read Viv ‘s page
and its been the same fun
even though I age …
Way to go Viv! You’re awesome.
“Once Upon a Sidewalk”
Darkness falls earlier.
Shorter days and time change,
change the atmosphere
of a simple walk downtown.
Shorter days and time change.
Downtown feels cosmopolitan
though it’s only three blocks long.
Lighted windows and inviting warmth.
Downtown feels cosmopolitan.
Coffee shops and frozen custard.
College students à la mode
smiling at the one holding my hand.
Coffee shops and frozen custard.
Frozen treats from the warmth of inside.
Looking out at the sidewalk, watching
as home passes by the window.
the last line is intriguing
Great poem….agree and add terrific to intriguing
lovely imagery and feeling to this one ..
This was so lovingly written, great great, Moskowitz
This poem made me feel warm and happy, and the last line was perfect.
well, maybe for once I am faster than Walt
Once upon a dream I saw you
Swimming in the sea
You were sleek and sinuous
And I was only me
Once upon a dream I saw you
Galloping and wild
Dappled, mane streamed in the wind
While I – was fat with child
Once upon a dream I saw you
Like an owl in the air
Sure and swift and exacting
Birth screams, then you were there
Love it. Dreams, birth – wonderful.
This is a WOW! Bravo
This is incredible – I love “You were sleek and sinuous/And I was only me”
Unique and lovely.
Simply beautiful! Love the images, the rhyme and the conclusion…wow!
Once upon an altar
standing in a lacy itchy wedding gown
Looked around for disappeared stairs
In order to clamber down
Once upon a crisp sheeted bed
Sitting up on my knees
Sang Swing Low Swing High
Waited for the chariot to come for him on by…
Once upon a street
Walked in joyous abandon gay
Throwing tumbled words into the
Flowered fray
niice !
Once upon on a morning
Found a prompt that would not stop
Until I turned round -gave my head
A crisp wick knuckled pop
Great poem Robert
See you all later
Once upon on a morning
Found a prompt that would not stop
Until I turned round -gave my head
A crisp quick knuckled pop
*correction
Thought it was “wicked”, either one works for once upon a morning
a crisp, quick, witty, wicked, knuckled pop perhaps ?
Dazey Haze
Once upon a daze
Lost in my meditation
Possibilities
Much to accomplish
Prioritize, organize
Order in my head
Staring into space
Ignoring world for a while
Child calls and I’m back
hope you accomplished some of those tasks !
I enjoyed this
I always have my nose in a book and my kids would tease that the house could be burning down and I would calmly herd outside them without losing a word. LOL I get this. ^_^
ONCE UPON A BLANK(ET)
I awaken as morning begins.
Night retains its grip upon the day.
And you are there cuddled and safe
and comfortable and comforted.
Tucked under the blanket conforming
to your form; a warm embrace of flannel.
I call softly and you stir slightly,
confirming with a gentle sigh,
contentment surrounded by security.
Your eyes butterfly a good morning
as the last wisps of sleep return you
to all your dreams hold. Under that covering
discovering places unknown and faces
full grown in love. You’re in a far off land
distant in miles, but closely knit with
a connection that bears more thread wear
than you dare admit. It is an escape to
a pastoral place, a lake shore, or
maybe a meadow upon that blanket;
a picnic for two, or you and I counting
clouds and finding familiarity in their
shapes and shading. And I cuddle
closely behind you filling the spaces
where you end and I begin. We are in
the place we want to be. A nuzzle,
and a kiss. An awakening; arousal.
Making love in the morning before
the day has begun. Living the
Fairy Tale, once upon a blanket.
Mmmmmmm …. delicious, sweet, and full of love and home.
Robert: So tender and sweet!
totally agree !! am laughing inside my head
Once upon a thought
Once upon a thought,
a reckless one that was,
I accepted the challenge
to write for you –
a poem that too !
and that is how I began
challenging myself,
letting my ideas soar,
discovering this new world,
of endless images and words.
The journey goes on,
sometimes passing
the old roads and turns
yet the feelings all new
whether I stay or move.
Love it, and can relate entirely.
Pleasure !
So sweet this is!
Silly but first thing that came to mind:
Once upon a flightless bird.
Once upon the loss
of everything I knew
there was little else
for such a fool to do
I spread my oily feathers,
said goodbye to you
and shuffled off alone
to where the dodos flew.
Oh something delightful and charming here!
I found it sad .. not silly …
Thanks Nimue, I was going for the double edge.
It’s so bittersweet – the image of shuffling off alone is just…so evocative.
You have managed silly and sad quite well.
I like this one a lot.
Pingback: November PAD Challenge: Day 16 “Once Upon a” Poem « Whitbred 2.0
Once upon a perfect day
No one will say good-bye
Or stand in a soup-kitchen line
With hollow, hungry eye
No one will fill their greedy lips
With bread torn from the poor
Then cuss because their padded hips
Were once size twenty-four
Upon this perfect day our hands
Would give instead of take
Duty would ease its stoic demands
For picnics by the lake
Laughter would travel on each breeze
On every mouth, a smile
As we would stroll the hour with ease
And walk a second mile
No one would kiss another’s love
Or steal a child’s first bloom
Each lonely child would have a hug
And somewhere to call home
Once upon a perfect day
No one would fight or yell
And all our pain would melt away
And all the sick be well
Once upon a perfect day
Sweet peace would deck this sod
As all our guns are put away
With faces turned to God
Then bitterness would be subdued
And hate vanish away
As heart o’er-flow with gratitude
Upon this perfect day
Janet Martin~
Beautiful, Janet.
The sentiments! Wow!
Oooh Janet my early morning BRAVO…must be somewhere else…. BRAVO AGAIN
Once Upon a Grandmother
Glioblastoma took my mother-in-law only months before the births of her lovingly awaited grandson and two great-granddaughters. A sister-in-law requested some of her clothes — canning shirts, pajamas, church dresses, and other memory-inducing pieces. I was a bit concerned for my father-in-law, and how he might feel when he sees her in clothing that had adorned his “dolly.”
My mind did not foresee the grander destiny of the garments, for each baby was presented with a patchwork blanket, and swathed in their grandmother’s life.
I love this poem! I got such a chill reading the last line. <3 Thanks for this, Marie Elena.
Oh, Marie. Achingly beautiful. Just beautiful.
Echo De!
So beautiful, Marie. I teared up at the last line.
Ahhh… so sweet! What a lovely idea — and nice capture, Marie!
Truly beautiful and a loving testament
Gave me a chill too–so wonderful–and love “swathed in their grandmother’s life” what a precious gift
Once Upon My Lap
There was
a puppy
who makes it
exceptionally hard
to write
a decent poem.
Hah! The cat normally sits on my notebook as I try to write.
And I often have Sophie, who can’t keep her little chubbawubba fingers off the keyboard.
This is all too familiar!! My mouse usually goes missing while I’m typing with a crawling Leland snaking the cord!
Good one! and cute!
Lucky puppy
Hehehehe. Puppy, meet my cats.Cats, meet Puppy, kindred spirit.
Like this so much, De! Our 11-year pup does not like to be picked up but he sleeps peacefully beside me when I write.
Ha. It seems we all have full laps, quite often.
Thanks, all. She’s a joy, but boy, oh boy, my one-hand typing skills aren’t what they used to be. (Hannah and Marie, they did used to ROCK, since I always had a Zack or an Abby on my lap. Of course it helped that that was my “lowercase” phase.)
De!! It does take skill! ha ha!
Once Upon a Prayer
A false accusation
of indecent exposure–
when everyone relieves
themselves on the roadside,
so why should it matter
at the Boy Scout camp out?
The impetus to prayer
of complete vindication
which after awhile worked,
and as a full moon
on a clear, starry night
spread solace within.
Wow!
Once upon a theme.
Once upon a crown,
once upon a frown.
Once upon a queen was throned
and once upon another was stoned.
Once upon a heart,
once upon a dart.
Once upon she started young,
and then just got startled too much.
Once upon a dream,
once upon a song.
Once upon she chirped away,
now she means to, quite passionately.
Once upon a chance,
once upon a dance.
Once upon she waited for him,
now she danced herself to sleep.
Once upon a time,
once upon a rhyme.
once upon I longed for it,
now find it harder than it seemed.
Once upon a dime.
Once upon a time
I went through my clutter
and only found a dime
worth saving.
Once Upon a Wobbly Knee
Age brings with it lovely satisfaction
but not so with the joints and bones.
Inadequate to purpose, dissatisfaction
with the manufacturer, thrown
together it seems with friction
in mind. I am limpy and stiff and sore,
and wobbling toward bleepin’ petrifaction.
I am so with you, Misk, and let me add here: “Old age ain’t no place for sissies.” Henry Louis Mencken
Oh yeah! Me and my rice-crisp knees hear what you’re sayin’!
Once, upon a poem
she sprinkled all her tears
hammered angry fists
tacked her most spectacular
failures
pinned every eloquent lie
hung each silent sigh
stapled her fraying edges
(back together)
breathed in
threw down her pen
began again.
I was reading this without seeing who wrote it at first, and thought, wow, this is so good, I bet it’s De… And it was. ^_^
Ohhh, thank you so much. What a generous compliment.
Wonder- Full
ONCE UPON A MEADOW
Not so far from mother, he heard a lark,
its song an invitation to the dance.
How could a simple bird-beak strike such spark?
Not so far from mother, he heard a lark –
just three years old, his sailing mind an ark
to lose or find its way on such a chance.
Not so far from mother, he heard a lark,
its song an invitation to the dance.
Elegant and thought-provoking, as always.
I second this, holds such timeless beauty!
ONCE UPON A TIME
Once upon a time…
Oh Mom, must you always start out that way?
What would you prefer, my child?
Just cut to the chase.
Okay. There was a little girl. Broke into a house. Ate porridge. Broke chair. Fell asleep in bed. Bears returned. Were angry. Girl fled. The end.
Thanks Mom.
Sleep tight.
– Cara Holman
Oh, this is adorable!!
Thank you, Marie. I miss those days of bedtimes stories so much!
LOVE this.
Our favorite was always The Paper Bag Princess. Short, to the point. Fantastic ending.
That was one of our very favorites too!
Once upon the page
My words look up and snicker
Think you’re a poet?
My words like to play tricks on me too, at times, Marie. Don’t let them tell you lies!
<3
You are, though. I love your work!
Thanks, Domino! And likewise! I imagine nearly every poet can relate to this.
Oh, those naughty words. They live at my house, too. Liars, all. Your talent ‘speaks’ for itself.
Yeah, what De and Domino said!! <3 to you!
Oh yeah! Hear that snicker all the time. Don’t listen to them, Marie! They don’t know nothin’!
Pingback: Roof Crow « It's Real To Me
Once Upon a Keyboard
Once upon a keyboard, weary, while I pondered word-string theory,
Over verb and adverb pairings, I thought, “What a crashing bore!”
Still I typed, fairly quickly: suddenly I felt quite sickly,
As if something went a-missing, dissing at me, so I swore.
`’Tis distraction,’ thus I muttered, `snapping, ‘cause I sure was sore -
Only this, and nothing more.’
Ah, distinctly I recalled it – it was writer’s block: Work stalled. (It
sucks!) And so my sentence structure wrought its ghost like ‘crime-fic’ gore.
Justified, I sought appeal; – vainly I had thought to steal
From some books or other store – of vast knowledge. (Could I score?)
For my new, ingenious novel – which my agent will ignore…
Nameless now for evermore.
###
Well put, RJ, familiar and fun to read!!
I LOLed. ^_^ Hilarious take on Poe! (I was hoping someone would do it!)
This is just brilliant, and soooooo RJ. Always making me smile. Incredible work.
The is fabulous!
Standing- on -a- chair BRAVO,!
Once Upon a Rainy Morning,
contemplating man,
I imagined Da Vinci’s octaped
turning cartwheels in the sand.
Fun image, Barbara!
Once Upon a Time
It all fucking stopped according to the damned date on the stone,
Resulting in me religiously returning to this spot just to feel momentarily less adrift and not so utterly fucked-up and alone,
But my strangled feelings explode from the well,
My soul tormented as demons drag me daily darkly down to shit and hell,
She would use,
Couldn’t refuse,
Died before my eyes,
And every fucking day since I drown swirling amid her masochistic shit-addicted cries,
But she was sweet,
And I believed she loved me enough to defeat,
Her childhood,
Where she was beaten and abused and misunderstood,
My baby she couldn’t even count,
She never ever believed that there was anything in this cruel world to which she would amount,
But she was everything to me,
Every fucking thing a perfect love could ever be,
Her squint smile,
Stopped my world and held me beguiled for a magic weightless while,
And once upon a time her squeak of laughter,
Was so cute but now shreds my heart from now to ever after,
God how I hate this fucking place,
I’ve no more strength to turn and face,
I’ve no more heart to carry on,
My loss… my love my life is gone…
So painful. Addiction is a pilferer of life, my heart aches for you.
All I can say is amen. Such tragedy.
Thanks…long time ago and a little poetic licence…not quite as bad as that
Oh, wow, this is so moving. Thanks for sharing your pain–it’s scary to me, but an exposed soul makes for heartwrenchingly lovely poems like this one. XOXOX
^^What she said.
partly true, not 100%… but the feelings were enough
Raw and powerful
thanks
Once Upon a Tomorrow
A bleak morning.
Ground fog, again.
It never used to rain so much.
And then,
slowly,
the mist bows to a casual cumulous,
and green cadences fall from a cloud-mouth of stars.
The future catches in my throat,
musky and delicious.
Its name is Begin Again and
it sits between us
like the last piece of candy in the box.
I’m satiated by your writing, pomadoro! The visions are meaty!
Oooh, “like the last piece of candy in the box.” I love that last line especially.
Yes, it is so tantalizing!
OH. “and green cadences fall from a cloud-mouth of stars.” Wow. And that ending? Goodness. Will now be looking for your name when I do have time to read…
A vivid picture of hope and second chances. I really like it.
“green cadences fall from a cloud-mouth of stars” – Stunning.
~ONCE UPON AN EAGLE~
Sun-kissed wing tips
Outstretched feathers
Finding wind
Determining direction.
Gliding and soaring
Are the work of wings,
Your imperial head
Tilts to the side searching.
Your day is beginning
Mine has just begun.
Taking in the majesty of you
In awe of your bold beauty,
My spirit is star struck.
Time stops for me
I feel alive
I’m filled by your life force
Tingling through my being.
Hours set to motion
Magically we meet
And its a thrilling tale
Of once upon an eagle.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Good day! This really happened to me this morning I was astounded to find myself right in the path of a Bald Eagle soaring overhead as I was driving. It always amazes when things like this happen because of the timing of things…if my husband hadn’t kissed me good-bye through the van window I wouldn’t have been there right at that moment. I was trying to portray that point in the poem but I don’t think it came across. Any way just wanted to share this little aside! Hope every one is having a happy poetic day. Smiles!
Hannah, I relate…it’s what I couldn’t put into words yesterday at dusk when the barred owl swooped across my driveway. Thanks for saying this for me.
My pleasure!! It is such a hard thing to put into words, especially the feeling of it. I bet your owl was just incredible! Thank you for the comment, pomodoro!
Simply put poetry, that isn’t simple in any respect
Eloquent, inspiring, visualizable.. It is all, Hannah. A pleasure to have read it, and the last one to keep in mind, before I go to sleep.
Leo!! Thank you so much I appreciate the compliments! I hope you dream on the wing of soaring Eagle!
Sweet Hannah . . . they say the bald eagle is the sign of Spirit! Clearly your poems spread as high and wide as those very wings! What a perfect moment for you, given your natural voice of nature . . . beautiful, Hannah, beautiful!
I thought I’d remembered that about them! So amazing~I feel so blessed to have been there! I’m so pleased that you like it, Janet! <3
Good morning, beautiful, thankful spirit! Your words are so uplifting, Sweet Hannah! Would that everyone view life with the same thankful spirit. Hugs, hugs, hugs!
Receiving those loving hugs!!! I’m so grateful for being able to give and receive in this life. Thank you for being such a beautiful source of encouragement, Marie!! Big blessings and warm smiles to you this day!!
Once Upon A Comment….
Back tracking
Days done
But not gone by.
I find comments
To which I’ve not replied!
Words of butterfly
Burden filled heart
of what some may call beast,
All sorts of lovely comments
upon which my eyes feast.
I find courage in words
Where friends reside
Thank you.
Sweet! And true for the PAD challenge for sure. So hard to keep up, but drive by comments days later… yeah, that’s do-able. And so sweet — when you find one. Nicely captured Hannah! (Hope you find this!)
Glad I did find this! You made me feel better about missing comments. Makes me feel bad to think someone might have thought I’d ignored them. Thanks a bunch for the comment, PSC!!
I know this kind of fits yesterday’s prompt too. Does anyone else do that? Meld prompts together day to day? LOL
Once Upon a Broken Heart
Once upon a summer night
at the park, under the lights
children rolling down the hill
tumbling, giggling, laughter shrill
Thinking that for once I’m right
about you.
Once upon a sunny day
I thought to go but said I’d stay
snuggled up with you so close
Heart to heart and nose to nose
Gladly dancing love’s ballet
with you.
Once upon a starlit night
Words were spoken, seemed so right
And so binding our two hearts
whispered words, we’d never part
holding close with all my might
to you.
Once upon a stormy day
You said what I had thought you’d say
And harshly, coldly, had to part
Things you’d done had torn apart
our love, turned the world to gray
without you.
Once upon an afternoon,
years later, true, and none too soon
we met again in awkward grace
and found our hearts had kept the place
bookmarked; I was still in tune
with you.
Once upon a broken heart
We’d fallen hard, but had to part
but only so we’d learn true love
is something sent from heaven above
If love you’ll have, I’ll never depart
from you.
Love this one! Is this a form I’m not familiar with? Great use of final line in each stanza.
Y’know, Marie Elena, I wasn’t following any form but the one in my head. LOL Maybe someone else knows it (if it is one.) If not, what say we name it!
And thanks for liking it. ^_^
Beautiful, Domino. I name it Beautiful.
Aw, thanks De! That means much to me. <3
Ah. what beautiful flow
I love it too. If its a form that needs naming, I say name it Dominotion, since it was Domino’s notion for the form and for the naming too 
I LOVE it, Leo!
So there we go. A new form called Dominotion. Now to figure how to describe the form. Hmm.
The rhyme structure is AABBC with a repeating theme in the 1st A line that goes through the entire poem and a repeating theme for the C line. The A and B lines are 7-8 syllables each and the C line has 2-3.
This was incredibly fun. ^_^ I love this group. ^_^
(Of course, this is only if there is no form like this already… Robert? You are our resident expert?)
I agree!! What a joy to read!
Thank you Hannah! Like I said, what fun this group is. ^_^
I really enjoyed being “dominotioned.”
Once Upon a Time
always seemed
a strange and
silly place
to start.
Shhhhhh.
There’s nothing left to say.
Drop your sword.
Just stay.
And won’t you scribe
your deepest secrets?
Just this once,
upon my heart.
Good take on the poem. There is something quietly inviting about this. Just great.
Thanks so much, Mosk.
Romantic, and as Buddah rightly mentions, something about it that is quite inviting to read
Love it!
Thank you, Leo.
ONCE UPON A LIMMERICK
There once was dog named Walter,
Who secretly wanted to be called sir!
He’d sit up and bow,
And forever try to wow,
While he patted and stroked his fur!
There once was a duck named Mama!
Here dream was to live in the Bahamas!
With her young she daily coddled,
Finally one day off she waddled,
Wearing hot pink polka dotted pajamas!
There once was a cat named Eloise,
Who every mouse around would tease,
She would prance to and fro,
Glaring through the window,
Dangling a huge piece of cheese!
There once was a frog named Prince,
Who they said could never take any hints!
Even the lily pads would turn over,
And run for the clover,
The cattails were seen to wince!
There once was an alligator named Skylark,
Who was so big he had nowhere to park,
He searched high and low,
Above and below,
Until he found a mate and an ark!
(Probably sometime in the dark!)
There once was a fish named Old Glory,
It was hard to know her full story,
She was red, white and blue,
How she was, no one knew,
Maybe we did but we thought it too gory!
There once was a bird named Alabaster.
Who they say had a mime for a master!
He developed great eyes,
As he took to the skies,
Sight only no sound he’d fly even faster!
There once was an elephant named Sydney,
Who had a rough patch on his knee,
Because he was trained,
That when it rained,
He could slide down his ramp to the sea!
There once was a pig named Tina!
Who wanted to be a ballerina!
Instead it was written,
She adopted a kitten,
Together there’re in someone’s sestina!
There once was young girl with imagination,
She never left it behind on vacation,
She loved these animals,
Kept their bellies full,
Designing their daily destination!
There once was a poet who declared, “I’m done”!
She knew she had had some fun!
There won’t be anymore,
Nothing else in store,
Oh, write! . . .
Please pardon the pun!
Heeheehee ….
I can hear you laughing from here, Marie Elena! I see the wink and I know that beautiful smile! Thank you for the chuckle! Always Good to feel you nearby . . . to say hi!
Sydney’s story is funny and Tina’s too, especially “Instead it was written, She adopted a kitten,” Ha ha!!
Sweet Hannah . . . Glad you enjoyed it and came to chat . . . by the way that kitten is now a cat! How about that? A Hannah smile makes a bright day . . . so that must be true today . . . YEAH!!
Bright smiles indeed!! Thank you for yours, Janet!!! <3
If one pardons
The pun then
Where is the fun?
For is not the pardoned pun
One that was never begun
Sweet dreams …
Great fun
Must run <3
If you run, where is the fun that was begun? If there was a pardon of the pun . . . does that mean it is now undone, Hon? Right, the only option is to run before the rise of the sun casts a shadow on another age . . . taking us further away from being on the same page! If so, is that a turn for the better or worse . . . what do you say, we end this verse, empty the poetic purse . . . to coin a phrase and cancel this phase? Say goodnight, Pearl Girl!
To RMA . . . aka Obi-Wan
Your words yesterday were kind and your comment bold . . . I appreciate being told! Truly, thank you for stopping by and reading the poems! I welcome your perspective. I referred to you as Robert once and was corrected and told you are Richard, Robert is your brother. For the sake of correction, my name is Janet, Janice was a dear friend of mine. People see the Jan – then the ice of Rice and it is an easy mistake. Now we are even . . . Obi-Wan!
AUTMN WONDER!!
once upon a day
soft maple leaf kissed my cheek
brushed by wind’s caress
Perfectly penned, Patricia! Lovely!
Marie Elena: Thanks so much! The incident, literally, touched me when it happened! Seemed truly wondrous!
Title: Oops, “Once upon a day….”
TO ALL: Apologies: Spelling–AUTUMN!!:)
VERY touching and nicely written, Patricia!
Thanks, Hannah!
the wonders of autumn
so simple yet multifold joyous…
Like that multifold word, Leo!
Donkey Basketball
Once upon the donkey,
I had no time to think
before my animal
took off in hot pursuit
of our team’s basketball.
Once! upon the donkey
and then, twice! I bounced,
before I hit the floor,
to the enraptured joy
of all. I’d been so sure
once upon the donkey
I would gain my bearings;
but lost all courage when
I saw the gig was rigged.
I could not sit even
once upon the donkey!
If they should ask again,
I swear I’ll take a pass.
These charity events
are a pain on the .
LOL!!!
Add mine to Marie’s… LOL
One of my fondest memories is watching my dad play donkey basketball.
Once Upon My Rocking Chair
My mother and grandmother,
My mother and I,
Me and my children,
My grandchild and I.
Serving up memories
Of decades now passed,
I ponder how many more
More decades she’ll last.
Much longer after she retires too
coz memories are priceless and eternal. Lovely take, Marie.
Thank you, Leo! I just noticed It needs to be corrected:
Once Upon My Rocking Chair
My mother and grandmother,
My mother and I,
Me and my children,
My grandchild and I.
Serving up memories
Of decades now passed,
I ponder how many
More decades she’ll last.
Rocking chairs rule!
I didn’t notice that, coz the flow went smooth, Marie
Liked it.
Leo is correct … I re-read 3 times before seeing the doubled more… aka amore than was desired
This is beautiful, Marie! I love how it mentally takes me through generations of precious babes. I could see this being inscribed into the back of the chair all scrolling and intricately carved.
Here’s mine for today
Yet another senryu.
~Once upon a dream~
Robert, your poem is a tad sad. Yet it had that impishness portrayed well. Kids will be kids?
Just went over to your site and read your poem. I love it, and the name of your blog, as well.
Sara
Once Upon a Fitting Room
At first,
we were strangers,
trying on each other.
While some parts fit
perfectly,
others needed
immediate alteration.
I always wear her
with pride,
and to her credit
when she wears me,
she stares down
anyone who dares
question her style.
Through these years
though styles have changed,
she still wears my coat
with its food stains
and frayed cuffs and collar,
and for the first time
in my tortured life
as a hideous self-dresser,
I am proud
to be seen in what I wear.
Sounds like a perfect ode to a coat!
This whole piece is perfect AS IS. I’m especially digging “we were strangers, trying on each other”. From the title to its ending. Just perfect, Buddah. I am so happy for you!
Looooooove this. You wear words well, my talented friend.
Excellent, B.
What everyone else said and a Hurrah for poor dressing and rich love
Wonderful <3
Once Upon a Hilltop
From the park tower,
in Montpellier, Vermont,
I spied an eagle
gliding like a kite
in a gentle breeze
and I wished
I could see
as the eagle saw.
And then the eagle said,
“Yes, I have a wonderful view,
the weaving of silvery ribbons
of roads and rivers,
rough textured tree-covered hills,
houses tucked in smooth green patches
but I know One
who sees much more than me
and so do you.”
I love this, Connie!
Thanks Laurie!
once upon a challenge
someone’s gone and kidnapped my muse
ain’t the slightest bit amused
can’t write worth a dam
i can’t call this poetry
writer’s block got the best of me
will come back when this is fun
This tickled me! LOL
I think a ransom note was left
For you to find and read aloud
Your Muse will be released when
you release words which serve you proud
I loved this prompt. Still working on it, though, here is a preliminary version
***
Once upon a morning
dawning red and frivollous on me
stepping out of breathless
night, void of sleep and honey dreams.
Once upon a daybreak
slipping terribly along my path
restless hectic silence
glittering throughout my quiet wrath.
© 2011 Mariya Koleva
Once upon your back
Once upon the gentle earth, look
up, see the cloudless, winter blue,
wisps of fog receding, curled tips
beckoning to the space beyond.
This made me want to bundle up and lay in my frosted grass.
Oh, thank you!! I got to do it recently and I wanted to share the experience – I’m glad you could see it too!
Once upon a Branch Laid Bare
The poplar tree is full of sparrows
a cacophony of chattering in the bare branches,
lit by a weak November sun.
Beneath the trees graves are silent in the damp air,
and despite their freshness the colours are drab
against the leaden stone.
One grave sports a jumble of plastic milk bottles,
carelessly tossed there by the man who tends the next grave over,
resplendent in a cloak of early anemones
I collect them all and carry them to the bin,
the dogs patient at my heels
until we move on
among the russet hues of autumn
and the scent of a distant bonfire.
Beautiful.
I agree – very human also.
Such an inviting autumn interlude!
Once Upon a Charlie Brown
Once upon a Charlie Brown
Where everyone looked at him,
Weird, like a clown
Short, unathletic, large, round head,
Would say, “I don’t understand it.”
Wishing he were dead
Wearing his yellow shirt, zig zagged in black,
Opportunities, Lucy taking that football away
So poor Charlie Brown lands on his back
Once upon a Charlie Brown,
One day decided to change his tune
And wear a mighty crown.
No more insults, no more lies,
even Lucy is sorry
all meanness subsides.
“once upon a coast”
we came to melt
in the liquidsolidgasdance
roiled endlessly intricate
influence pangaea
once the fog rose so cottony,
batting the inlet,
we saw a hunting egret
stalk out of view
into the shirt worn by
the mud-ribbed tidal flats
we can’t be extracted
from the red omphalos
of blooming pickleweed
there beyond the railing
once we walked in the hallways
of the seacliff
where one rivulet ran pristine
and another lurched
under a convolution of hooves,
we could never get loose
waterlandatmosphere unfolded
a gondola to embrace us
when we embraced
and doused us to permeate
our fates
so seahorse processionals
usher us away, and
we dismantle like timbers in the wash
yet we remain
always represencing
later and elsewhere
in the design
I love how you melded the words, and also, the ideas. “…egret stalk out of view into the shirt worn by the mud-ribbed tidal flats.” and “a gondola to embrace us.” Wow.
Wow2
Wow3
Once Upon A Disney Dream
Once upon a Disney dream
Not so very long ago
I found myself in wonderland
Where I could be a child again
Of which I had every intention
Not to mention
A plan
I would ride on every ride
Fast Pass those with long lines
But lines don’t really bother me
They’re just a chance for me to see
The other’s waiting patiently
Along with me
Oh well
I got into the Haunted Mansion
Saw nine hundred ninety-nine spirits
Well, I may have missed one or two
Finding them all is hard to do
But I gave it a good try
As they all passed me by
Just sayin’
Space Mountain was next on my list
It’s one of my favorite rides
It’s fun; it’s dark; and it’s really fast
The only trouble is the fun doesn’t last
Before you know it, it’s done
What the heck; it’s still fun
And worth it
Then there’s the Carousel of Progress
My wife’s favorite relaxing journey
The audience spins around the stage
Learning ‘bout what once was the rage
It’s fun going back in time
A nice place to unwind
And we do
Of course there’s Pirates of the Caribbean
With Johnny Depp in several scenes
The Hall of President’s is historic
It’s a Small Worlds can be euphoric
But give me the Laugh Factory
Or Buzz’s shooting galaxy
What fun
I woke up from my Disney dream
And realized the truth
Though it was just a dream, you see
It will soon become reality
‘Cause we got our reservations
For our Disney Christmas vacation
Whopeeeee!!
Hope to see you there
Once Upon a Summer
They said you were cancer-free
even rang the all-clear bell
gave you a second chance at life
for one summer free of hell
and now it’s back,
bigger and stronger than before
in the same place now flattened
breast cancer, stage IV.
You have a breathing tube
and a home health nurse
so you can be with your kids, eight and four;
travelling to Houston’s much worse.
Has it only been six weeks
since you got the news?
How evil is this noxious growth
yet a fight for life you choose
God, I hope it works.
Oh, Laurie. My heart. Many, many prayers.
Thanks, De. It’s a very sad situation.
Oh, I hope so too.
Oooh Laurie ….can feel the sadness and the outrage…. Beautiful poem-ugly sadistic disease … Positive thoughts flow
Once Upon a Photocopier
The paper tray
has never
been the same.
Once Upon a Roller Coaster…
…was more than enough
I threw up over the men
in front…and behind
OMG, sounds like me on a roller coaster! Very cute
It’s been a long couple of days and I’m getting punchy:
English Teacher’s Nightmare
(With apologies to Edgar Allen Poe and to all the students who actually showed up prepared for their conferences on research papers today)
Once upon a sunrise sunny,
my alarm was acting funny.
I spoke up and told my honey,
“Just nine minutes. Hit the snooze.”
Rolling over toward my lover
as I burrowed under cover,
it was then that I discovered
stealthy sounds of someone’s shoes.
“What was that?” he asked me, spooked.
Wide awake then, I was hooked.
Opening the door I looked,
and saw a shadowy figure there.
“Who are you?” I asked the creature.
“Some door-knocking Baptist preacher?”
“No. Your high school English teacher.”
It couldn’t be! It wasn’t fair.
“You still haunt my dreams at night,
Afraid my verb tense isn’t right—
Are you just here out of spite,
To seek revenge for writing flaws?”
She told me to stop my pleading;
my bad grammar needed heeding,
and I’d set her red pen bleeding,
correcting each depended clause.
“Oh the sentences you mangled,
all those modifiers danged.
Still a low B+ you wangled,
but you thought I owed you more.
While you were up to school girl capers,
I sat by light of waxen tapers,
with stacks and stacks of student papers—
the English teacher’s constant chore.”
“Ha!” I laughed. “You cannot fright me.
I know you came here just to spite me.
Don’t you know that I, too, nightly,
sit assigning essay grades?
In your footsteps I now follow,
teaching Tales of Sleepy Hollow,
Hamlet, Gatsby—what did I know
of how enthusiasm fades?
“You could have warned me long ago
I might now have listened though.
Way back then how could I know
the part of teaching I’d abhor.
Leave my house and I’ll forgive you,
maybe, even, I’ll outlive you,
otherwise I’ll make you sift through
all these papers on my floor.
That is when she ran out screaming,
but then I found that I was dreaming,
and through the window sun was beaming
just as the alarm went off again.
Out of bed I catapulted,
feeling oddly so insulted,
that my calling had resulted
in tedium that never ends.
I love it! (And a Poe theme always delights!)
sort of “once upon a burnout coming”–marking the papers makes retirement so very sweet. of course, you have to survive until then…i feel your pain and will help you get over it this weekend.
Nancy…brilliant, fun, and truth… Who could ask for anything more… A+ (+ for acquired wisdom )
Whoops let us have agreement…. Brilliant, fun, and true… Or truth? ARGH !!?
NANCY!! OUTSTANDING FUN!!!
Going with the most obvious title, but using my newly-created form, the “pan-ku” (see my explanation in my post from yesterday):
Once Upon a Time
Once upon a time you were
feeling the weight of the world,
watch cap pulled over your ears.
Once upon a time you were
there when she sat next to you
(watch cap pulled over your ears),
started a conversation
there, when she sat next to you.
You thought she was cute when she
started a conversation
and pulled you out of your funk.
You thought she was cute when she
smiled and laughed – those big blue eyes
that pulled you out of your funk,
and then you asked her out – she
smiled and laughed – those big blue eyes,
and the rest was history,
that day you asked her out – she
lifted the weight of the world,
and the rest was history.
this is really clever.
THE TROPHY
Once upon a foggy morning
From a thicket, without warning,
Came a snout and antlers poking up through reeds in dawn’s early light
With a sniff and snorting, trying
To decide just what was spying
On him as he chased berserker after a female out of sight;
Bounding over bog, berry bushes, fallen logs to get in sight
One hot doe to make things right.
White muzzle circled ‘round to find
The scents of what was in the blind
That could impose dangerous threats on this ardent, blood lust-lit plight.
He shook his mighty head to clear
Blood rushing ‘twixt rack-crowned ears.
His choice to move was fatal and eternally cancelled his flight
To the one who might have soothed that amorous, hot and headlong flight.
The gun was the one with might.
Once Upon a Yard Sale
Welcome bargain hunters, fifteen years of accumulation
Arranged on folding tables in our front yard on Saturday morning.
Girls’ clothing in all sizes.
A chronicle of her march into adulthood.
Children’s books, well worn but in good shape.
And committed to memory from repeated bedtime readings.
Toys, boots, mittens.
More proof she’s not my baby anymore.
Women’s clothing, very little wear.
And steadily decreasing sizes, the diet is working.
Four place settings of green floral china.
A wedding present that has served up nothing but dust.
Assorted housewares, knickknacks, and linens.
Not sure where it all came from, just know it needs to go.
Too much more to mention,
Something for everyone.
Come see our family history
Clean, neat, and priced to move.
Once upon a time there was a cheerleader,
some times a writer, always a reader.
Always positive, ne’er a false thought,
her type of typing couldn’t be bought.
A virtuous soul, prays to God every day,
shone with life’s gifts, with no shades of gray.
Once upon a time, there was a cheerleader,
who became, over time, a visionary leader.
With a snowbound friend who’s attention she caught,
she did something daring, she knew that she ought
build a new place to speak, where poets could play,
a home for the friends she’d met on the way.
Once upon a time, there was a cheerleader,
mother to some, to all a care breeder.
With mindful comments, no attention she sought,
one heart, one mind, one love in her thoughts.
Here’s hoping she’s with us for ever and a day,
Marie Elena from Planet Awesome, there’s no more to say.
Hear hear!
Oh my goodness! *blush blush* You are tooooo kind, Mr. Eel! Thank you so very much! I was hoping to get time to do some more reading this evening, but it didn’t work out.
I’m thankful a wonderful poet friend brought this poem to my attention. 
Any chance we will get the pleasure of more poetry from you? *hint hint*
“Once Upon a Lego”
I hobble to the chair
clearly in pain yet
you think it rather
comical that a conical
Darth Vadar helmet
pokes beneath a flap
of skin beneath my big
right toe nail, blood trailing
down his plastic square head.
You check to see
if he is wounded.
LOL So funny, but so painful. My kids had legos too, so I understand your pain…
oh, man, at last I could post. The site didn’t love me today. I had to canoodle and canoodle to post;-). Here’s a blank verse for today. Whenever I’m writing prose more often, my poetry gets all prosey. Anyone else having that experience?
Once Upon the Ground
Once upon the ground in our small tent,
The snow turned ice along with all our toes.
I lay awake considering the wet
Condition that our only wood might be,
Dozing and dreaming off and on of flame,
The fledgling early tendrils orange and gold
Growing under my gentle breath to blue
Intentioned bursts that make so little smoke
You know instantly this fire will give heat
Fed properly with patient kindling laid.
Upon that ground, you whining in your sleep
And moving closer to me for my warmth,
I think how we should heed weather reports,
How summer sleeping bags don’t do the job
Of even autumn forays in these parts,
How we may have some trouble on this ice
Driving, no fleeing, down this mountainside,
How nice coffee and bacon smell outside
When you wake hungry and someone else cooks,
How if this were a blizzard, we’d become
A tiny igloo, trapped under the snow,
How several months from now in springtime thaws,
Some hapless camper loving nature would
Discover us beneath these ancient trees
So perfectly preserved under the snow,
Like fruit-based yogurt, raspberries still pert
As summer days and flushed with ripening sun,
That he would stand a while and look at us
Like art one least expects—two people, us,
Still cuddled up and waiting for the spring,
A hibernation project gone all wrong.
Upon that ground, I see the morning sun
Send its first fiery tendrils through the trees
And hear the ice and snow begin to melt
And think of warmth and cold, of love and need,
And how a single night upon the ground
Can bear the seeds of lark or tragedy,
How fortune gives us stories for old age
Of sweet survival and of sleeplessness,
Of ignorance and bliss, and memories
Of how your body cleaves to mine in sleep
And keeps my warmth, my heart and mind, alive
And watchful, kindling a flame of truth,
How love on any ground makes life worthwhile.
Once~
once upon a moon
tide rushed to fill the shore while
palms waved hush to stars
Jane Penland Hoover
November 16, 2011
Once Upon a Mushroom
Once upon a mushroom
Sat a plump red ant
And there at the tippy-top
He stuck his little flag
Claiming it there and then
As Ant Arctica
this makes me smile watching such a claim atop that world
It made my husband laugh, too.
Hilarious!
This poem was hard to write cause it affects so many people, both male and female.
‘Once Upon a Time’
Once upon a time
Love was
Refreshing
Like sweet lemonade
It was pure
Untainted
Without any blemish
Where yes means
Yes
No means
No
Mutual agreements
Verbal contracts that were not to be
Broken
Once upon a time
Love was not taken
It was given
Cherished
Not stolen
Presented
Not snatched
And sheets were stained by
Luring strawberries
And not blood
Once upon a time
You embraced the one holding you
Not frightened by them
Dreamed
And not dread
One touch made you
Melt with ecstasy
Not quench with fear
Tears were full of joy
And not anguish
Once upon a time
Love was
Reality
Not a storybook fable
Only for little boys and girls to
Wish upon a star
Of one day of experiencing a dream
Not a nightmare
Once upon a time
Is not this time
Oh, how pretty- thought-provoking too. Love it!
Too true. Great poem.
Once upon a Dulcimer
Once upon a Dulcimer,
I plucked a few surprising
chords, so pleased with
having an instrument
I could carry, a thing
with strings and deep
melodic tones housed
in dark walnut, polished
by some hand that loves
wood-working, hearing
mountain melodies in
saws and pegs, in sandpaper
that smooths a walnut tree
into this shape of song.
Real woodworkers can do
that, so I’m told—can
capture wind through foliage
in the heart and grain of wood.
Maybe that wood-caught breeze
is what I felt, holding
that kind instrument
across my knees
and picking through
the strings a lonely lullaby
of nature knowing more
than humans reckon,
of people playing music
from their hearts,
of instruments playing
people from theirs.
Love, love, love this — the flow is so pretty. Love it.
Thanks, Domino.
I would brt a dulcimer would fit in the overhead bin too.
It’s in two pieces still. I promise to resurrect it before summer.
Lush and lovely
Once Upon a Teenage Marriage
Plagued by problems
emotional in nature,
she clung to love, hanging
at the top of a rope.
Only chance, one chance
to have someone love her
before the rope severed,
making survival impossible.
During two tumultuous years,
she lived in another state,
geographically and psycho-
logically. Disturbances
of a vigilant voice nagging
in her head, ignored
in desperation, increased
in volume until truth was heard.
Once Upon a Lavender Sheet
Luxuriating
in sheets of
lavender
silk, cheek resting on a plum
pillow, I dreamed of
scented bubble baths,
our skin soft,
your arms wrapped
`round me, as lilac candles
quivered in the dark.
What a sensuous, lovely dream…
Thanks, Domino.
“Once Upon a Thyme”
She recalls a time when her garden thrived, her
fingers itching to dig into cool, damp soil, to
nurture spring’s early arrivals: chives, lovage, prolific
oregano, fragrant sweet woodruff, delightful violets
remembers sweet, savory, aromatic blossoms of summer:
rosemary, lavender, profusion of mints, thyme – spreading
beyond its boundaries, wandering over rocks
harks back to autumn harvests: bountiful,
abundant, plump, fertile, ripe with plentiful gifts
glorious tastes, heavenly scents, waiting only to be
plucked, preserved for winter’s relish
Lately, she feels her life fading, drying – like the herbs
and seeds she used to gather – and she finds herself
wondering if she’ll still be here, come spring
A beautiful gardener’s daydream. I hope she’s still around come spring.
Thank you, Domino!
Wonderful word play, image flow…great poem – great poet for many many many springs to come
Thank you, Pearl — kind words indeed! Glad I passed back through here & caught them. You made my day!
just had to do it—”based on prompt suggestion by King Robert B.”
Once Upon a Stage Accepting the Nobel Prize in Literature
by Sir Richard-Merlin Atwater Nov 16, 2011
Perchance I saw it in my imagination, standing with King Gustav,
In the Blue Room of Svenska Akademien, standing on a stage.
I thought of William Butler Yeats in Ireland drinking his Falstaff.
Permanent Secretary Peter England had just announced my name.
Members of the Swedish Academy all set there in their place,
There was sweet Lotta Lotass, born on my high school grad day,
Bo Ralph who slightly older than me by months, sat in grace,
Sture Allen in a senior role, born when my mother was 7, I say!
Anders Olsson, three years younger than me, by age, but true
To his Swedish roots, he sat there too, looking at my shoe!
Goran Malmquist also held senior rank, and Horace Engdahl, who
Is younger than me by two years, past Permanent Secretary too.
Thomas Riad, born when I was a teen, came to view in my dream,
Because his appointment of 20 December 2011 happened in time
To vote for me when I’m nominated once again in 2012, it would seem
That Jesper Svenbro had included his vote for me, he looked sublime.
Torgny Lindgren, Ulf Linde and Per Wastberg, all sat with a smile on their face.
Gunnel Vallquist, Kristina Lugn, Kjell Espmark, and Katarina Frostenson also
Were checking their tallies to be sure the world wide newscasts kept apace
Of the announcement of my stalwart British sounding American name to crow
To the world that i had just won as Nobel Laureate in Literature, $1.5 million,
A gold medallion, certificate of achievement, and most importantly a handshake
From my younger brother’s best friend: King Gustav XVIII of Bernadette bullion.
Knut Ahnlund, and Kerstin Eckman sat in a backrow seat by choice to eat cake.
All of a sudden I awoke and found myself laying in bed with my Ukraine wife,
The TV was on at 6PM, October 6, 2012, my 66th birthday, Oh what a dream!
Lucky I wasn’t standing on that Blue Room stage, naked before a King, such strife
Is more than I can take, but I saw myself on TV news announced: where are YOU–Mr Sunbeam?
Poet’s Note:
The above 18 names are the members of the Swedish Academy who select each year who will be the winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature. The award is presented by King Gustav who is also the leader of the World Scout Foundation, and hence a personal friend of my younger brother Robert who sets on the American Executive council of World Scouting. He has received many accolades, certificates and awards, several presented to him in person by the King. It takes a majority of the committee to vote a winner. I was personally nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature this year (January 2011) by the Florida Writer’s Association for my poetry and 15 published books. The winner this year was from Sweden, a poet. I hope to be the winner next year, but first i need to find someone to nominate me again as a qualified literary giant with proper credentials. My native New England poet Robet Frost (who was actually born in California) but moved to New Hampshire–he actually sought the Nobel prize in Literature all his later life, but missed the mark. But he was given the honor to read a poem at President Kennedy’s inauguration when he was age 96. I hope thye don’t wait that long fpr me to receive the Nobel Prize, because i believe the Second Coming will be in 2020 A.D. and by then it won’t matter. As to the Second Coming, it says in the good book “no MAN knows the day nor the hour”, so if you wish to KNOW you will need to ask a WOMAN. And if you wish to win the Nobel Prize in Literature you will need to be nice to women, they rule the board of directors for selection. Maybe I should invite them each to dinner next time I’m in Sweden. After all, my own original joke has been: “I don’t mind having the score of LOVE in tennis, as long as the opponent on the other side of the net is a tall, blue-eyed blonde female, gorgeous SWEDE.
I replied to your comment yesterday…be sure to check it out!
My draft for today:
Once Upon A Pulsing Floor
That story? You know,
The one where two people
Young and fit and out
Late at night lock eyes
On the dance floor to an
Unforgettable beat?
That is why we all want
To be the DJ.
-Cory Funk
Pingback: Once Upon A Butterfly | Soul's Music
Better late than not at all. My response may be found here:
http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2011/11/16/once-upon-a-butterfly/
Thanks
LIVING THE FAIRY TALE
ONCE UPON A TIME…
…there sat a Princess, hidden away.
Sure, she put herself out there, but
she saw herself in a different way.
A sad “old-maid”, rather plain and yet
she never really looked with eyes,
The way that others saw her,
it would have come as some surprise
that people did adore her.
So, she went along to live her life,
a lovely girl she was for sure,
not a mother, nor a wife,
but friends did start to notice her.
She carried herself understated,
but inner beauty burned.
And any man would be elated
in time if he would learn
the wonder and magnificence
this loving heart possessed,
not the least bit insignificant,
full of fire and zest.
The Princess had been broken
and so her vision blurred,
and thought her “undesirable”;
of course, the thought “absurd”
She wore her heart upon her sleeve,
while poetry exuded,
she wrote the things that she believed,
to what her soul alluded.
A maiden Princess wears the crown
in ways she does not see,
yet always cheerful, there’s no frown;
the only way for she.
One night her tower, her fine nest,
in which she passed her time,
offered welcome to a guest
who often read her rhyme.
Words possess a saving power
they warm and help and heal,
the beauty of this fragrant flower
with every word she’d feel.
A prince awaits her somewhere,
but whence she shall not know,
and yet her heart starts beating there,
his tender words to show
her all the special wonder
the Princess does behold,
enchantress’ spell he’s under
through whispered words untold.
She knows that she is beautiful
through words that she’d been given,
her life akin to wonderful
a new life she is livin’
Kingdoms hold no special charm
for Princes to abide,
but there next to his Princess’ arm
you’ll see him by her side.
For “Happily Ever After”
is “Happily in this place”,
amidst the pain and laughter
she wears beauty on her face.
Once upon a time there sat
a Princess who stood apart.
And glad that she did wait
to find her true and noble heart.
I love this so much. I think I’ll read it again. <3
I enjoyed this crazy prompt, Robert. All sorts of good poems came from it.
Once Upon a Closet Door
Once upon a closet door,
he hung his hat and did not store
it properly on closet shelf,
a lazy moment, nothing more.
A door knob can serve many roles—
hangers for hats or party stoles,
a place to scratch an itchy back.
Who needs a closet shelf or pole?
The next day there he hung his gloves,
a scarf around, a coat above;
amazingly they all stayed put—
even when tested with a shove.
Then hanging things on doors became
a new and daring daily game,
like stacking cards or spinning plates,
his pride of hangmanship to blame.
This newest sport might well have been
continued had his wife not seen
and asked him where he’d put his hat,
but he could not remember that.
Great fun….. Perfectly poemed
Once upon a poster
it is difficult to be removed.
But not to be loved: for when your portrait,
is sprayed on plywood and slate, warts and all
and on crumbling brick is scrawled
(maybe they took the reality of your eyes,
turned them into stylized Deco things, ten feet high,
maybe they tried to copy Warhol, duplicate you
in gold and sea green and blue)
then it becomes a symbol.
And you may tremble with rage at being
so appropriated, people seeing nothing but this
flattening puzzle missing its deeper pieces.
And your fame increases the longer you stay
frozen up on the screens each day
until your protests (that’s not me,
that’s not me) have become hack attempts at
abolishing that which they’ve grown
into what’s known: your celebrity, which they follow
doggedly wherever you go,
waiting for the next move. Once you’ve tasted
fame, been placed in the popular mind
(and is there any other kind): then you are not, anymore.
They’ve given you four postage stamp sides,
they’ve trimmed what the face hides.
Robert, you captured the little boy mindset perfectly!
Once Upon a Sailboat
The wind chapped lips
And turned hair into whips
That slapped eyes
Sending tears
Into the sea
But the lips kept
Right on smiling
This is so concise, and yet, I can see it all. Great poem.
Yay Sara….you are here second Sara M. and add some applause
Thank you Sara and Pearl! Glad that you could share the fun
ONCE UPON A FLAGPOLE
colors, rippling in the breeze,
capture my attention;
clear blue sky, their backdrop
mesmerized by them
I stare mindlessly
as they pass my window
snow crunching beneath us
reverberates through silence
as we slow to a stop
black shapes dot
the stark white canvas,
moving soundlessly
in the distance I see you –
not really you,
but that which holds you
you were the brightest
part of my life; you are
the most colorful part of today
draped in the red, white and blue
that so proudly served
once upon a flagpole
2011-11-16
P. Wanken
For this effort I have chosen to write an “IN-Form” Poem. I have chosen the Etheree.
Created about twenty years ago by an Arkansas poet named Etheree Taylor Armstrong, this titled form, the Etheree, consists of ten lines of un-metered and unrhymed verse, the first line having one syllable, each succeeding line adding a syllable, with the total syllable count being fifty-five.
Once Upon A Rainbow
Once
upon
a rainbow
all seven hues
blended together.
Once upon a rainbow,
light was monochromatic.
Multitudes of wavelengths gathered
and expressed themselves in unity.
All appeared as it is supposed to be.
By Michael Grove
So lovely and the order of the form somehow shines with color …..
Thanks Pearl. 1 or 7 colors in the rainbow it is still a rainbow.
Pingback: once upon a time « lost in translation
Once Upon A Season
Once upon a season
a turquoise sea beckoned
“Come” as white sanded
beaches cradled soles
still untouched by hardened
land
Once upon a season
Lavished in perfumed
air – friends guitars
sweet folk songs
swollen belly naked
in the navied night
dancing to the water
barefoot in joy besotted sand
Once upon a season
Shimmering and bright
Sun blinded each and every danger
under that lop-sided charming grin
kept the secreted surprise until it was
ready to begin
hair wrapped around the wrist
pulled hard at the root loosed torn
as air floated over fist bruised lips
kiss cradling close a suckling newborn
Once upon a season
hibiscus blossomed belief in love
untainted
blood washed sea clean each day through
brushed with Edenesque possibility still pulsing as though true
Once upon a season in the way that seasons inevitably come to do
the season slipped –
softly calloused sole
kicked open a providential door floating in all that sun sea shimmered blue
as blackened, but-cleared eyes lit on the ‘future once-upon-a-season’
and babe safe on hip, laughter balming on bruised lip, that soul danced directly through
Once Upon a Snowstorm
Traffic slowed on the thruways
And on the less traveled roads
Ice began to build, and drivers
Cursed as their tires slipped and spun.
Accidents began to happen, mostly
Fender-benders as some of those
Who were in a hurry cursed
The slow and careful, who, in turn
Cursed the reckless, the takers of
Chances. Meanwhile the snow
Continued falling, the flakes
Growing thinner and falling
A bit faster and school principals
Called their superintendents who
Had talked to the people at the
Weather Bureau who told them
It would continue all day, perhaps
Through the night and yes, the
Roads would grow increasingly
Dangerous. So the decision
Was made to cancel school
For that day and when the
Announcement was broadcast
Over radio and TV cheers went
Up from children all over the
City while the superintendents
Consulted their calendars for
Suitable dates for make-up days.
Another busy day. Thank you, all who commented on my poem yesterday. I have not had time to comment, but have enjoyed many poems on the run. Here is my attempt for today’s prompt.
Once Upon an Apron
Flowers, garlands on cotton,
Crisp and clean, red roses
And a blue trim, tied neatly
Around my grandma’s waist.
Soon flour from the fresh
Baked bread, hand-swept,
Obscured the garden,
Next a spot or two of tomato
Paste, the water drops from
Spaghetti drained in shiny,
Metal colander, the heated
Handle of the pot wrapped
Tightly with the skirt end,
Pockets held a hanky, some
Safety pins, and hard butterscotch
Candies, these last given after
Wetted end wiped tears and grime
From little face, scrunched in pain,
scraped knee bandaged,
and grandchild gathered on lap,
once upon an apron.
Beautiful.
Another In-Form poem, the HexSonnetta, created by Andrea Dietrich, consists of two six-line stanzas and a finishing rhyming couplet with the following set of rules:
Meter: Iambic Trimeter
Rhyme Scheme: a/bb/aa/b c/dd/cc/d ee
Once Upon A Daydream
Once upon a daydream,
each wish would become true.
The sky a vibrant blue.
Drifting down a slow stream.
Basking in a sunbeam.
And I was there with you.
A vision on a cloud.
It all became so clear.
No reason now to fear.
A voice was clear and loud.
It promised and it vowed.
I’ll always love you dear.
The beauty of this day
will never go away.
By Michael Grove
My poem was about daydreaming, too. I struggled. Yours is lovely.
Thank You Shannon. I always enjoy reading you… struggling or not!
Once Upon a time…
…there was me,
unwritten,
clean as can be.
Page unturned,
plot unplanned,
bridges unburned.
I’ve become
old, dog-eared,
tear-stained, well-thumbed.
Scribbled on, torn,
parts ripped out,
faded — worn.
I was new.
You used me.
Now I’m through.
Michele Brenton 17th Nov 2011
I really like this. I wasn’t expecting the ending.
Thanks Shannon
“now i’m through” has me reading this poem again and again – a sense of melancholy in “dog eared pages, tear-stained and well-thumbed..” achingly visual…..
Once upon a time
A trite beginning, no doubt;
Could it be though, could it be
That it really happened that way.
Boy meets girl, falling in love,
Happily ever after, the whole thing.
That still happens – right?
My Fairy Tale
Once upon a time
My children were small
And actually believed I had a brain.
There was a time, I am sure
When the Tooth Fairy rocked
And Santa was king.
Once not so very long ago
I was the only boy for an eight year old,
And at nine she did not talk of dancing slow.
Seems like just yesterday
I was the strongest man alive,
At thirteen, he just thinks me weak and old.
Once upon a time
Children stayed small forever
And we were the only heros they would ever need.
Once Upon a Portrait of Salvador Dali
You have to wonder
while looking at the portrait of Salvador Dali,
which itself looks like a melted Guy Fawkes mask
than an edible soul-glove,
whether his parents would have named him Salvador
if his older brother Salvador had not died nine months earlier.
No matter what Deano says!
how does anyone forgive themselves
for their lack of creative greatness when compared to Dali,
when all we are doing is lighting our corn cob pipes
on burning giraffes
and stare into the lake until it falls in love with us?
Why go on when the bar is set so high
that you can’t even use the stilts he left behind to reach it1
It’s as frustrating as getting all your time from melted clocks
despite being across genres
which could explain where all these exclamation points
keep coming from.
Once upon a good dog
Every night at ten o’clock
there was milk and cookies
This is how they always went to bed
This was not a dog
thing, no, not for dogs,
not good dogs and not bad dogs
Not for dogs
Ajax knew this because
he had asked
and asked before
One day the bag of cookies
was left on the nightstand
and forgotten with the half-drunk
glass of milk Not for dogs though, no dogs
not good dogs
The day went as usual, Da went hunting (or whatever)
Ajax was tempted
yes tempted
all day by the sweet smell of chocolate chips
tempted
by walnuts, crumbly cookie and souring milk
A nose or two
over the edge
a paw
maybe suck up
a crumb
but he had to be
a good dog
The crumb remained on his nose
for a good long while
not for ornament, no not like a hat
or fancy collar or even a new tag
just for smelling
until Tommy licked it off.
But he would not tell
he would not, no not tell, not
a good dog
wouldn’t
Da returned in the evening and the evening went
as usual
Until it was time to go to bed
And then it was later,
and later still
Ajax barked and stared … to no effect
no one noticed, not one no
nobody
he really liked the trained to run on time.
He thought of the cookies
That was the problem! big problem not a dog
problem, a big problem not for dogs,
not good dogs
Unless you were Ajax
So he went into the bedroom and grabbed
the bag
and headed back into the living room
Which might be mistaken, would be
mistaken not a good dog, but maybe a
bad dog
a bad dog walking around with a bag of cookies
He walked a sheepish line
Made no moves for the back door
kept his eyes fixed straight ahead
Da noticed the dog, then he noticed the cookies
the dog and the cookies
Ajax and the cookies
a good dog
and the cookies He took the cookies
Patted Ajax on the head
Then they went to bed
One of my favorite forms that I haven’t written in in awhile: The Triolet.
Once Upon a Moonlit Night
Once upon a moonlit night
the shadows all stood still.
Out of mind and out of sight.
Once upon a moonlit night,
nothing wrong and nothing right.
Cold spine tingling chill.
Once upon a moonlit night
the shadows all stood still.
By Michael Grove
ONCE UPON A TIME THERE WAS AN OLD MAN BRADY
Once upon a time
way up on Gallagher’s hill
there was an old man Brady
who lived up in his shack
where the grass was green
slim trees and yard real shady
they say he smokes a large red pipe
has rugged overalls
dingy brown hat tilted just
right so you can’t quite see him
they say no man has ever quite seen his face
but he has an ancient beard
so long that it’s hard to trace
a far-reaching beard even to
the bottom of Gallagher’s hill
so they say
yep that’s old man Brady
sometimes its hard to tell
if its fact or myth
but one day I’d like to go find
that old hill
This reads with a brogue in the air…delightful
Thanks Pearl!
Once upon a time
Way back when I was a babe
I soiled my diaper
Nice! Glad those days are over!
Once upon a dream
Running from the living dead
Wrapped in sweaty sheets
Once upon a roof
Nailing shingles one by one
I nearly fell off
Once upon a road
North, South, East, West I traveled
I must have been lost
Once upon a trip
I happened upon Disney
It brings out my child
Once upon a lifetime dream
I could be and do anything
setting goals, ambition, intention
got my close to being my own invention
of the poet and writer of my desire
to obtain, succeed and inspire.
Once Upon a Memory
Once upon a memory faded now by time
Snapshots of my life, quickly passing by
Time stands still for no one,
Abandoned to its goal
Time is no pretender
It reaches out to us all
What was it that reaches out? Lol. So true:)
Day 16 11-16-2011
Write a “Once Upon a Blank” poem.
Once upon a leaf
God painted yellow streaked with red
and the question was whether to raise my eyes
to the bluer-than-blue and see the quivering gold
against sky
or to lower them and follow my striding feet
up-and-downhill on the pavements of the neighborhood,
filling my fall hunger with bright baubles flattened
and shiny with rain..
Houses blurred on either side of me, till my gaze veered
as I topped one hill and settled to my left,
on the mountain, daubed with autumn.
Daydreaming
Once upon a cloud
she rode a unicorn
donned a crown,
skipped on fluff
and swirled the sky,
slid down a rainbow
landed hard,
on cold cement,
her daydream torn.
Oooh sweet ….great poem to take to sleep… Sweet dreams all
Down to earth with a bump eh? Nice one Shannon
Once Upon a Root Beer Float
In the soda shop of someone else’s mind
we’re all just another dollop of fizz and foam.
There’s nothing on the jukebox now; dreams
don’t really work that way. Or maybe there is
some unrecognizable tune of your own
midnight invention, a garbled mess of
a pop tune from long ago, now combined
with aphorisms and the bits of no-sense
that drift through the mind like floaters
across your aging retina. This is what
it means to get old, perhaps; you dream of
soda shops, or of other people dreaming of
soda shops that contain you, or at least
a dream of you, a spoonful of your song.
Just under the wire! (It’s not quite midnight here yet.)
Once Upon a Beautiful Horse
I remember driving down a country road searching
for I knew not what
My heart was aching for fear my father was dying
And I had no answers nor any thoughts on how
to ease his pain, or my own
Then, rounding a bend, I came upon a field with horses
And slowing, as if in a dream, I parked, got out
Went to the fence and as I approached, you lifted
Your head, stared straight into my eyes and in synch
We moved towards each other
I know how odd it sounds but I’ll never forget you
How you came to me every day I drove there
How you would trot to me, then swing your great head
Over the split-rail fence and let me lay my cheek
Against the warmth of your mighty neck
And sob my sadness into your mane
Allowing me to stroke your velvety nose all the while
Throughout that summer and fall, you were ever
Faithful to me as I visited several times a week
In the waning of my father’s life
I came to believe you were what made it possible
For me to get through that time
Knowing after I’d been with my father
I could go to you and be comforted
By your equine equanimity
Your seeming surreal empathy with me
After Dad died I still visited you a time or two
But it didn’t seem to matter to either of us
Quite as much … my wondrous beautiful horse
Pingback: Once Upon An Annotated Christmas | TrollPants 2.0
My submission for today is a bit involved, with footnotes, Wikipedia citations and three back-to-back Shakespearean sonnets (two of which are comprised entirely of footnotes), and the Comments box isn’t happy with the formatting required. Sorry about that. Please visit me at http://trollpants.wordpress.com to read a tragic, true tale of a Christmas morning that ended way too soon. Thanks!
once upon .. and so on
greetings and … the letters began
my fellow … ask not what… ask….
and salutations, Americans, your
country, t’is of …, sweet land of…
what’s a country to do, with an
elegant anthem set to the tune …
(hint: a good old men’s drinking
song). and here on the table, a
20,000 word … on the price of
cabbages and kings, seventeen
seventy-six style. oh say can you…
where do we take it, from…?
once upon a bouquet of flowers
young lovers stall on doorsteps
butterflies aflutter
before a declaration of emotion
heartstrings aflame
by fragrant breezes of red and pink
timid as school children, they ring the bell
hope illuminating their faces
and fall into the sweet trap
of moonlit sentiment
and maybe,
if destiny hides no starry shadows
they will love, happily ever after
once upon…
[2011.16.11...a]
Prompt: write a poem replacing the X in “once upon a X.”
ONCE UPON A COMPUTER*
Once upon a computer we
took a ride to where everything
was real,.
The system analysts warned us
not to get enthusiastic
that our calculations might lose their value.
our capital gans shrink., Without a future
no bubbles in the air
and the fan dancers supply the electricity..
.Everything front
in banner headlines. What you see
is what you get on rows of tables, Black and white,
in color if your prefer. Touchable piles
of hard copy, no screens between you and
the information. There is free coffee and donuts while
you absorb what you read. It might take time
to get used to this.
Your eyes will learn
how to dig into the page, Once over might not be
enough. Yet
if you are lucky, the paper you hold
will imprint its message into your mind
wherever you go. Like magic, numbers
appear on lists, look Ma, no keyboard. Words
with multiple meanings, images that multiplies
like wild flowers on endless fields. Yes,
Nothing more and nothing less than
what is inside you, a garden that
never stops never stops growing.
Zev Davis
ONCE
Once, upon a hillside dreaming,
as clouds driven by winds passed
overhead, I though I heard a voice.
Speaking, the hushed tones drew
my eyes to search for the source.
And of course, being alone once
upon a hillside, dreaming of people
who have influenced my life, but
were no longer there to tell me
if they had heard the voice,
I could not be sure if I had even heard.
Once upon a hillside dreaming
a bird landed on a branch overhead,
and I said hello. I do not know
if it understood a word I said,
but it remained overhead listening,
but I only said it once.
Upon a hillside, dreaming of a face
where I can place the tender kiss
of love’s passion, I heard a voice.
No bird in sight, the sky was bright
and the clouds ventured to other climes.
But I wrote the words, once upon
a hillside dreaming, and continued
to write each word I heard. It spoke
of the longing in my heart, and
I started to trust its message,
the gentle massage of a time worn
love. And from above, once upon
a hillside dreaming, as clouds
driven by winds passed overhead,
I though I heard a voice speaking.
It came from within. From whisper
to din it filled me in with the wonder
of those well-turned words, amused
by the muse that boiled in my ear.
Each word I did hear, end up here,
once upon a hillside dreaming.
Once Upon a Spaceship
They performed
some experiments
on my brain
leaving me
unable to write a thing
(well, that’s my excuse).
MRI
You frightened me
all of Halloween.
This will be simple, you said;
a small sting, an IV for contrast.
We were hoping
that you would show us
something,
that you would explain
with your thumping
voice and circular logic.
But you said nothing
and the image of my spine
was only a skeleton.
So I’m back to ask,
once again.
Let me tell you first
that I am happy, and have
just started to unfold
into the bounty. I will give
thanks this November
for my good fortune.
But, I want to know
why you come now
with this dark grey matter.
opps! posted on the wrong day/
Here is my bad limmerick for the day…
Once Upon a Stroll
Once upon a meandering stroll
I met a hairy, one-eyed small troll.
He looked me up and down,
I gave him my best frown.
Dancing to heart and soul was my toll.
…I really should quit trying to write these, my funny bone is always broken when I do.
Once Upon a Wish
I once was ill
quite sickly and pale,
I was too ill to laugh,
I was too frail.
I wished upon a star
every night,
I wished upon pennies
thrown within my watery sight.
I wished for a miracle
a healing touch,
I wished for deliverance
this life was too much.
I started to feel better
getting stronger a bit,
I could chuckle again
thanks to my returning wit.
I am stronger now
but never cured,
I am laughing again
although my life is unsecured.
I do not know
what the future will bring,
but my life is my own
and for now it’s on the upswing.
I couldn’t make this prompt work for me. Everything I got came out arch, snarky, saccharinely whimsical, pointlessly punny. So I changed it a bit.
Onceupon
At nine, as I lay awake in the small hours,
I imagined half-death. I saw myself grown up
(sixteen), nearly perfected. I was stolen
by someone deranged: a monster, if the sick
are monsters. My lungs, my blood filled
with undetectable poison, I lay asleep
(no breath, no pee, no sin) in a dark grove.
He would find me just in time.
He would cry over me.
He would press me to his warmth;
he would offer his life for mine.
He would not kill the monster.
The monster would be gone,
undetectable, out of the frame.
I would live, I would love, and then,
unless I’d worn myself out to sleep,
it would start again, a story
that never quite ended.
Pamela Murray Winters
Once Upon a Lie
Bir varmış bir yokmuş –
In Turkish that means
“Maybe it happened, but
maybe it didn’t.” That’s
how Turkish fairy tales
begin, according to our
Turkish language teacher.
Our “Once upon a time”
claims that it did happen
and if memory let us, we
could mark it on the clock;
whereas Turkish tale tellers
wink an eye, allowed to lie.
The listener gets to decide.
Reserve
Once Upon a Kindness,
Three people reserved judgment,
And improved their self control,
By not exuding their personalities,
Upon a child in disguise.
Once Upon a Specific Latitude
Once she was there.
In the place that was most full.
Of kisses and embraces and kindnesses.
She lost all sense of time and space.
And had to get out her compass,
And look for true North,
To find her way home.
Once Upon a Neighborhood
We see proof, we know you are there
though you hide in cars that pass me by
no acknowledgement to my waving hand.
Your garage door opens, automatically,
closes before you get out of your car,
before I can see you and know who you are.
I wonder if it’s because we are older now,
no children to get to know you through,
or if this is the Twilight Neighborhoods of today
where no one knows, no one speaks, no one
sees the other. How do they get their mail?
I feel like a ghost walking a tiny dog
down the empty, quiet streets, my head
tilted at the houses for signs of life. My lips
form the word, I whisper and then I shout, Boo!
Once Upon a Rolling Sea
On deck the captain
Spied the lighthouse bright
The sea a light brilliant flue
Yellow lemon drop sky
Surrounds the sun
A big red blood shot eye
Balanced on the flat horizon
Far as the eye can see
We walked up on the shore
To picnic in the shade
Of one lone pine tree
Which welcomed us to dine
Beneath its’ branches full
Little black and white boat
The bow pointed out to sea
Tied to the shore
As I am tied to thee
http://annellannell.wordpress.com
once upon a red sweater
by juanita lewison-snyder
once upon a red sweater
that i now wear about my own shoulders like a shrine to you.
each time i slip it on i can
still see your silver creep in around my moon face
still smell the stoke of a good wood fire as you lay a kettle down
still taste the cilantro and chilitos of posole in your kitchen
still hear the gulls frock and tussle upon the white beaches of mazatlan
still feel your ghost in the threads of a red sweater i inherited upon your death.
i want to set you free but i don’t know how.
© 2011 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder
Once Upon a Day in the Woods
The woods are dangerous, she said
Full of hippies and moldy, decaying things
Like old memories and discarded scraps of life
I ignore her and plunge in
Crunching twigs and leaves beneath patent leather pumps
Strange shapes emerge from fallen stumps
Birds screech, twitter
Music blares from smoke-filled lean-tos.
I wanted to be brave Gretel
On an adventure
Seeking a gingerbread cabin to nibble
Wickedness to confront
I found only
Deer fenced in their natural habitat
Bright church-coming families in gloves and hats
Laughing and shouting praises to the Creator
Hunters-plaid and rifle clap hinting at danger beneath the foliage
Straying from the path, I saw
Houses nestled below us in the mist
Streaks of winged things and furry flight
Through tear-filled sight
Lost and alone I learned
Beauty could not conquer fear
The woods are dangerous, I say
Betraying innocence and trust
With seeds of fear
***
once upon a hill
***
an older boy I thought a cross
took my stomach
for an arrow’s head and science
book. took my breath for brother’s
bike. removed my father’s glasses
to kick dirt in my eye. rode off.
I thought I’d eat my hands, but threw them up.
brother would be sad, father angry.
my mother would be smooth hip
and jut elbow-
a plus sign.
I love the night time…
Pamela
“Once Upon a Nightline Sky”
Pingback: “Once Upon A_____” Poem: #Novpad Day 16 « LOVELY: Life on the Inside
I have been playing around with the cinquain…this poem reads better centered…check out the formatted version on my blog: http://wp.me/p10J0o-Bl
“Once Upon A Star”
The dreams
of a child found
in the space of wise ones.
Where the sword and the stone are bound
with the
wonder
of two souls coming together
to awaken entire
kingdoms with just
one kiss.
These words
dropping slowly
as ink becomes paper
fulfilling all dreams wished on that
first star.
Pingback: Once upon a time | Vivinfrance's Blog