Editors Blog

2014 April PAD Challenge: Day 28

Note: Today is the final day to sign up for a special poetry boot camp with Daniel Nester. Learn how to free up your creativity with this special event. Click to continue.

As luck would have it, today’s guest judge, Sandra Beasley, has a poem featured over at Poets.org as part of their Poem A Day program. Write your poem today, and then read it; or better yet, read it first, then write your poem. Either way, once you’re ready, click here.

For today’s prompt, write a settled poem. Settled can be a good, relaxing thing; settled can be an accepting something that wasn’t your first choice thing; settled can be coming to a stop; settled can be pioneers in a strange land; and so on. With only three days left, don’t settle for less than your best.

*****

national_poetry_monthGet the National Poetry Month Kit!

Yes, this has been another great National Poetry Month, and here’s a great kit to celebrate: The Writer’s Digest National Poetry Month Kit, which includes a digital version of The Poetry Dictionary, a couple paperbacks (Creating Poetry and Writing the Life Poetic), a tutorial on building an audience for your poetry, the 2014 Poet’s Market, and more!

Click to continue.

*****

Here’s my attempt at a Settled Poem:

“skipping”

the boy picks up a stone
holds it loose in his hand
studies the smooth surface
for just a brief moment
before drawing hand back
and casting the stone forth

the stone cuts through the wind
taps the water’s surface
before pushing airborne
again and then again
five skips total before
slipping beneath the thin

skin separating air
from water and the stone
twists awkwardly against
liquid and bounces off
the wet bottom finding
a new place to settle

*****

Today’s guest judge is…

Sandra Beasley (credit: Matthew Worden)

Sandra Beasley (credit: Matthew Worden)

Sandra Beasley

Sandra is the author of I Was the Jukebox, winner of the Barnard Women Poets Prize, and Theories of Falling, winner of the New Issues Poetry Prize. Recent honors for her work include the Center for Book Arts Chapbook Prize, Cornell College’s Distinguished Writer fellowship, Lenoir-Rhyne University’s Writer in Residence position, and two DCCAH Artist Fellowships.

Her most recent book is Don’t Kill the Birthday Girl: Tales from an Allergic Life, a memoir and cultural history of food allergy. She lives in Washington, D.C., and is on the faculty of the low-residency MFA program at the University of Tampa.

Learn more here: sandrabeasley.com.

*****

PYHO_Small_200x200Poem Your Heart Out

Poems, Prompts & Room to Add Your Own for the 2014 April PAD Challenge!

Words Dance Publishing is offering 20% off pre-orders for the Poem Your Heart Out anthology until May 1st! If you’d like to learn a bit more about our vision for the book, when it will be published, among other details.

Click to continue.

*****

Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems. He’s grateful to today’s guest for endorsing his book. Learn more about Robert here: http://www.robertleebrewer.com/.

*****

Hope you’ll settle for these poetic posts:

You might also like:

  • No Related Posts

585 thoughts on “2014 April PAD Challenge: Day 28

  1. Benjamin Thomas

    OUR WORDS SETTLE DEEP WITHIN

    After the dust settles,
    and the smoke clears
    from the vicinity.
    When the fog is lifted,
    and widespread destruction
    becomes apparent.
    Desolation runs freely
    to and from every place.
    But our words will remain
    hidden within the heart.

  2. Alaska Christina

    At Days’ End

    The cool, damp dew caresses my neck
    as I lay in a field of sweet clover.
    Long branches stretch across the horizon
    my hand caressing that of my lover.
    The call of the raven echoes the beat of our hearts
    and we’re lulled to sleep as the robin sings.
    White, fluffy clouds dance across the blue skies
    while nymphs of the woods do foresty things.

  3. Alaska Christina

    Through cool, damp woods
    And hot, dry desserts, my feet have taken me.
    Up rock-strewn mountain sides
    And across flowing creek beds too.
    Along winding back roads through the Irish countryside
    And the paved streets of Paris, Denmark and New York.

    I’ve two-stepped in low-heeled cowboy boots
    And barely walked in four inch black stilettos.
    I’ve played on beaches in pink rubber flip-flops
    And green and tan sneakers have pushed me past crystal clear lakes
    I’ve searched for octopus and seastars while wearing xtra tuffs
    And summitted cliff faces in tight-laced hiking boots.

    I’ve not walked a mile in another’s shoes
    But I’ve walked more than my share of miles.
    I’ve stumbled and faltered and fallen down hard
    And danced barefoot beneath an Alaskan Solstice sky.
    I’ve run naked through a field of bursting yellow clover
    And set my socked feet up against a warm, crackling bonfire.

    I’ve swayed beyond a tall, limber man playing guitar
    As I wrote poetry under the setting Mexican sun.
    I’ve paced up and down long, narrow hallways
    Nieces and nephews tucked deep into the hollow of my arms.
    I’ve rubbed my toes up against a lover’s hard, sinewy calf
    And smiled as he’s taken my hand and held it firmly in his.

    I’ve cut the toenails of my Father’s swollen feet
    As he lay restless next to the humming oxygen tank.
    I’ve rested sunburned ankles on cool towels
    As the Hawaiian sun beat relentlessly through an open window.
    And I’ve trudged hill after hill across snow and grass and leaves
    To place flowers, shells and stones on the graves of those I love.

    I’ve stepped across the cool, cracked salty water of salt flats
    To realize a dream come true.
    And run through a jungle of lions and juniper trees
    Dreams where my feet twitch and twist through the night.
    And still these feet keep moving forward
    Settled and unsettled on top of this planet spinning it’s dizzying pace.

  4. Angie5804

    A Settled Villanelle

    Truly gone are so many years
    Washed away like a little paper boat
    Leaving here the lovely souvenirs

    Settling down it’s clear
    A beautiful, single note
    Truly gone are so many years

    Washed away are the numerous fears
    Shed like a winter coat
    Leaving here the lovely souvenirs

    Peeling away the false veneer
    Gone the burden of rote
    Truly gone are so many years

    Like evening when the moon appears
    And the stars seem to float
    Leaving here the lovely souvenirs

    So it is when nothing interferes
    Contented and pleasantly remote
    Truly gone are so many years
    Leaving here the lovely souvenirs

    Angie Bell

  5. Heidi

    RED SILK DANCING

    Am I hard?
    Or do you consider me kind?
    Am I sandpaper scraping
    smooth bare wood?
    Or like a red silk scarf on
    dry soap? Am I bitter? Sweet?
    A little bit of both?
    Am I a tangle of thoughts
    like threads in a bird’s nest?
    Or am I a winding labyrinth of
    crooked streets? Do you
    still love me, even though
    I get lost on these streets?
    When I smell the rain,
    spicy on winter wind
    I want to live with you, always,
    feeling your mouth on my mouth.

    No. It is your black whiskers
    like sandpaper against my
    smooth cheeks. Red silk dancing
    in your arms.

    Heidi R. de Contreras

  6. grcran

    You, Not Your

    She’s not here anymore
    But at least you are
    Settling
    into the sack
    the end of a difficult day for you
    and for me
    Some hard sleeping
    Then, night’s luscious middle
    i wake, hear you breathing
    across the bed
    This waking feels soft, easy
    the idea of returning to sleep
    not troubling at all
    even though I am
    always aroused
    by you
    pussy
    i reach out with my right hand
    gently fondly lightly
    palpate your firm flank
    i rest my hand on the bed between us
    then
    (i didn’t think i had woken you)
    you reply to my caress
    extending to touch the back of my hand
    your own wonderfully deft
    furry
    paw
    and
    i love you too, sweet cat

    by gpr crane

  7. seingraham

    ON NOT SETTLING

    I’ve fallen out of love, she said
    tears welling in her beautiful eyes
    Then amended that to:
    If I was ever in love…
    Then ensued a long heart-to-heart
    About love and marriage and when
    To go and when to stay and how
    unwise it is for all concerned
    to settle

    It’s true, and it was time to own up
    to the mistake but not lightly
    and even an amicable parting
    as this was sure to be was going
    to involve grief and mourning
    for all concerned…
    But – no – there was no way she
    should settle, of that she was certain.

  8. Aberdeen Lane

    the discomfort of settling

    with this ring
    I give up myself
    to try to bring you
    happiness
    in morning coffee
    and clean laundry

    I thee wed
    in all our sicknesses
    to attempt to avoid
    tragic ends

    to have and to hold
    all the doubts
    and resentments
    over your head
    all the days of our lives

    or until I decide I will settle for this no more

  9. LeighSpencer

    Sweetness Settled

    The tea is bitter

    I like it dark
    but this brew stings my tongue

    The warmth still soothes
    steam eases my breathing

    So I am thankful overall
    to relax into the last sips

    But there
    suddenly
    a sweetness almost cloying

    Honey
    forgotten

    Settled
    at the bottom of the cup

    Should I have stirred it up
    to sweeten the whole journey?

    Or be thankful
    overall
    to appreciate all I had
    while savoring the last surprise
    of settled sweetness?

  10. JayGee2711

    Decision

    May walks in at three o’clock.
    I’m cleaning rocks, listening
    to the snow geese trilling
    overhead, circling, looking for
    a place to rest.

    Later, we look at a house
    that is almost perfect, but
    we decide without speaking
    that neither of us is
    ready to move.

    Julie Germain

  11. j.wessier101

    Snow Settling on Poet

    To a poet, cold feels like a brittle branch
    in the beak of a starved dark-eyed Junco.
    It has a scent like pine crisp needles,
    a taste on the tongue like a fire ant’s bite.
    Cold is a warrior’s courage
    with all his battles behind.
    It is a woman told, “I settled for you,”
    a man who worked
    while his last chance for love
    left on the Northern Belle.
    Cold is a home with no lights on,
    a city with no pulse,
    a country with no pride.
    To a poet, cold is fat flakes
    in lazy drifts along the Dalton Highway
    settling on stalled life.

  12. IndiFox

    Settling Down

    I’m getting older
    I’m settling
    I use to view that
    As an awful thing
    But with you
    It’s not so bad
    With you
    It won’t be a drag

    We can build a house
    On a faraway cliff
    Fill it up with antiques
    And other silly gifts

    We’ll have dinner parties
    Play scrabble by the fire
    People said we wouldn’t last
    But we’ll make them liars

    So settling won’t be awful
    If that’s what ensues
    And I couldn’t make this promise
    To anyone but you

  13. shethra77

    Settled

    As the sun disappears—
    orange sky, hooting owls,
    the edge of the woods quivering
    with night creatures awaiting release—
    we sit, hand in hand, appreciating
    being here, just sitting
    together.

  14. PSC in CT

    Ooops! Not that it should matter, but I couldn’t leave it wrong. (Thanks to Linda H for pointing out the error.) This poem was supposed to be in the Pleiades form — which requires 7 lines, not 8. (Guess I can’t count when I’m tired.) :-/ Fixed it here:

    Settled

    “Settle down” she whispers,
    seeking a tiny spark –
    some inspiration. Un-
    settled she’s still searching.
    Suddenly, Pleiades
    suggests a solution.
    Situation settled.

    PSC/2014

  15. KiManou

    Casualty of Love

    I lay awake
    Watching darkness
    Listening to crickets
    The ceiling fan rotates
    Your stubble grazes my chin

    This is your tenth second chance

    But who’s counting

    Five fingers holding tightly onto me

    In the morning

    They’ll be coffee

    And I’ll question myself

    Feel a lil guilty confused with humility

    And two scoops of clarity

    You break me… then mend me…

    To shatter me

    I think I’m missing pieces

    Shrapnel

    Now you’re the casualty

    Of this broken love

    Another funeral to attend

    eMinor

  16. PenConnor

    Prayer Before Bed (a pantoum)

    While I settle to the ground,
    close my eyes and try to breathe,
    while the forest fills with sound–
    silence whispers, underneath.

    I close my eyes, struggle to breathe.
    I cannot face the stars or moon.
    Silence taunts me underneath.
    I turn to face the earth, here strewn

    with broken shards of stars and moon.
    I lie beside them, near to where
    the pieces of my heart, are strewn.
    In time my tears become a prayer.

    I lie here, lonely, near to where
    discarded stars and leaves have blown.
    Tears oft repeated, become a prayer:
    Let me just lie here, turn to stone.

    Discarded stars and leaves have blown,
    and gathered, rest around this tree.
    Let me just lie here, turn to stone,
    release my pain and be set free.

    Come gather near, around this tree,
    and see the work that grief has done.
    Woman of stone, I’ve been set free.
    Washed by the rain, warmed by the sun.

  17. Linda Hatton

    (Un)Settled

    Word-tied, hands tired, metaphorical
    milk carton nearly empty. Timer’s almost
    boiled all the eggs in this poetical
    basket, and the delivery man
    won’t make trips to simile city
    tonight. The sonnets resting on my cranium
    can’t withstand the heat, so I’ve settled
    for freestyle swimming through alphabet souped-
    up poetry not making it from pen to paper.

    -Linda G Hatton

  18. SugarMagnolia

    It’s Settled

    After it all settles
    Voices lowered
    Only an awkward silence
    Fills the empty room
    Looking around for scattered
    Pieces of my heart
    My vision blurred by
    Tears that roll
    Down my face
    Dropping to the ground
    Where the words still inger
    After being thrown
    Like daggers
    Intended to kill
    My spirit, my soul
    Hurting and wounding
    Every ounce of my being
    But a faint heartbeat
    That will strengthen
    And learn to love again

  19. poet42

    Lord, I long for
    that settled feeling
    in my soul–
    the sense that all
    is right because
    You are all light.
    Help me to stop
    fretting, fearing, flailing
    because things are
    not going my way
    and instead let me
    submit to Yours.
    Help me to keep
    my gaze on You
    and not on problems,
    pressures and pessimists.
    Give me grace to stop
    resisting and to
    rest in Your love.

  20. Linda.H

    A settling in poem.
    Pleiades form.

    Sleepless

    Sleep seems to have sailed off
    somewhere beyond the sea,
    slipped beneath the blazing
    sunset, harboring the
    snores I’ll not breathe tonight.
    Snug under covers, I
    stare at shadows, silent.

    (I just posted this in the Day 29 post but wanted it here. Sorry for the double post.)

  21. Mickie Lynn

    Quake

    friction between plates
    intense enough to melt rock
    gets stuck
    waiting…
    pressure builds
    rising until the earth can no longer hold on
    energy pent up
    becomes destructive in its release
    as it pierces the earth
    making it wrinkle like a skirt pushed up a thigh
    listen to the rumble in the distance
    soil roaring waves
    cracks screaming open
    energy escapes to freedom
    and the earth settles
    into stillness

  22. Pengame30

    “Remnants”

    I was once apart of something that lived and breathed.
    Now I am devoid of life, but I host a city of beings.
    The wind carries me aimlessly taking me where it may.
    You either breathe me in only to sneeze me out,
    until you take antihistamines, or ignore me
    while I rest on top of the DVD player,
    until its time to clean.

    Written By: Sean Drew

  23. jean2dubois

    COMMUNIQUES ABOUT PRAISE
    by Jean Dubois

    I woke up this morning with a chilling thought.

    Could it be – just a possibility –
    that I am receiving communiques
    from my soul – communiques about praise?

    Could it be – just a possibility –
    that the reason I settle for endless hours
    of playing Bejewelled on my computer
    instead of going out into the world and
    living a real life is because in real life
    no matter what I do, no matter what
    wonderful thing I accomplish – and
    believe me I pull off some doozies –
    makes me almost woozy to think about it –
    still no one praises me whereas the least little
    accomplishment in Bejewelled earns me a
    good or an excellent or even an incredible as the
    gems explode down the columns and cause
    other explosions blasting to the next level to
    higher and higher scores.

    Or could it be – just a possibility –
    it’s this continuous excitement I’m addicted to
    and not the praise at all?

    Why would my soul think I need praise as one of the mainstays
    of life? Praise, if we tendered it to one another,
    would surely soften the contours of life, provide
    an inner warmth no one should have to live without
    but no one praises me. Why not? Why can’t
    they just say hey, Jean, good job! once in a while?
    But they don’t. No wow! No greats in my life.

    Silence such as I get in the real world means only
    one thing in Bejewelled: You’re doing a piss-poor job here.
    But we’ll talk more about that later.

    First let me play a few rounds of Bejewelled.

  24. PSC in CT

    Settled

    “Settle down” she whispers,
    seeking a tiny spark –
    some inspiration. Un-
    settled is what she is,
    still searching, days later.
    Suddenly, Pleiades
    suggests a solution.
    Situation settled.

    PSC/2014-Apr

  25. LCaramanna

    Sugar Sprinkled Over Cheerio’s

    My cheery start to the morning,
    happy o’s made of oats, topped with strawberries,
    every bite lowers a cholesterol number,
    joys my heart with good health, fibers up my day.
    Sugar sprinkled over Cheerio’s
    settles to the bottom of my bowl,
    mingles with skim milk and berry juice,
    my last cheery spoonful
    unnecessary calories with a sweet day guarantee.
    Lorraine Caramanna

  26. TuLife

    “Settle Down”
    By: Tuere Aisha

    Yesterday I rose early for Sunday worship with a different congregation because my congregation’s program time lapsed into Jaime’s dance performance, which I promised to attend, after which I had to hurry back to my side of town for Delroy’s farewell shindig, but not before stopping at the grocery store to buy water for the party, though I was supposed to show up early to help serve the food. So I fought traffic and sleep to get to the banquet hall, but dropped by my house to freshen up first so I would still look chic. This morning I had to head way north for my appointment with the physical therapist so that she could twist my foot back into shape. I should be staying off of it ever since the injury or otherwise, wear support sneakers, but how can I stay off of it when I work five days a week, technique class every weekend, gotta support my fellow dancers’ productions – another of which is coming up this Saturday – and show up for good-bye parties…in support sneakers? I think not; that’s not hot. My therapist wanted to know why my foot was so stiff and I pretended to have no clue, then raced to the office for another full day. By evening, I couldn’t even function well enough to write a poem for this challenge that I committed to, a poem a day for the entire month ‘til May, which is really important to me because I’m naturally a writer, actually, although I drag myself into an office daily to wear several hats – receptionist, executive assistant, accounts manager, researcher, etcetera. And it’s only Monday. It pains me to see myself at 40 nine years from now and looking back wishing I had made time for me, although the beauty of writing is that it’s never too late; I’m just afraid it might be if I don’t…settle down.

  27. Shennon

    To feel such a pull
    Such attraction, such need
    To ache with awareness
    To hunger but not feed.

    To yearn for a touch
    A small kiss, a taste
    To hurt with the longing
    But to understand the waste.

    To lust from afar
    Vibrantly pulsing with desire
    To master one’s body
    While the mind is on fire.

    To throb with emotion
    But to conquer the drive
    To die slightly within
    While remaining outwards alive.

    –ShennonDoah

  28. Shennon

    By the age of twenty-eight
    I decided it was time to
    settle down,
    and so I
    settled
    for the first man who
    asked me to marry him,
    worried that I might not
    receive another offer.

    The way he
    treated me was
    unsettling.
    I had to tell him
    too frequently to
    settle
    down.
    Now I’m
    settling
    for the amount
    decreed
    in my divorce
    settlement.

    –ShennonDoah

  29. Amirae Garcia

    Untitled – Amirae Garcia

    Go ahead and laugh. Laugh.
    Let me watch you as the rumbling
    erupts from your belly. Let me
    hear the evilness flow out of you like
    the lava that swallowed Pompeii.
    Let the world know.

    I want you to watch me watching you.
    Are you done laughing now?
    It’s my turn and I don’t even have to
    laugh. I don’t even have to make a
    sound to tell you that you did not win.
    Do I need to say it louder? Shall I write
    it in the sky? You did not win.

    You are not the whale and we are
    not Jonas whom was swallowed. We
    are not Pompeii. We did not run away.
    Come back and you will see us stand as
    tall as the trees. You are a storm,
    but your time is up. You are not welcome
    here anymore. It is time for the sun to shine.

    So, laugh. Settle for the empty noise in your
    belly like we settled for your cruelty.
    You did not win and we were never
    something to be conquered.

  30. azkbc

    Get Ready to Go

    It’s a shopping trip with Daddy
    and you like to go to Costco
    and ride in the cart,
    but you must get ready to go.

    Go potty
    get a Sippy cup of water
    and a snack cup
    with Puffins and Cheerios
    with a lid that snaps on
    then get your jacket
    and your pink fuzzy hat
    (it’s blowing out there)
    then go potty one more time
    just to be sure
    and find your shoes,
    where are your socks?
    Give Mommy a hug
    (I love you, Mommy)
    and baby brudder a kiss
    on his fuzzy head
    and pick up a truck and car
    from the play room
    and tell Daddy you are ready
    (he’s working on his phone)
    and go to the garage with him
    and climb up into the car seat
    and get snapped in
    and then lean back
    and smile at Daddy
    in the mirror
    and take a drink of water
    and say, “I’m ready to go Daddy.”
    He smiles and says,
    “Okay, buddy, we’re all settled in.
    Let’s go!”

  31. lionmother

    A Life Unsettled

    I thought my life was settled
    A smooth sailing until the end
    where eventually all would fade
    and fly away, but into this
    tranquil scene arrived a storm

    No one realized how strong
    this storm was
    Yet it continued to batter
    and smash up his body
    Unyielding and relentless
    it continued to destroy

    Until now the body is
    weak and fighting, but
    needs life support
    for its breath

    Nothing is settled
    yet and we are in
    limbo waiting for
    one small body
    part to be healed
    and go back to
    its job of holding
    air

  32. Mustang Sal

    Second Marriage

    My lawyers,
    his lawyers.
    Who will be the judge?

    First party,
    second party.
    Whose party is it anyway?

    Big print,
    small print.
    Who mislaid my glasses?

    My kids,
    his kids.
    Have you thought of grandkids?
    My cat,
    his dog.
    Is that why there are leash laws?

    My house,
    his house
    I’m ready for the nut house.

    Pre-nups
    disrupt
    thoughts of wedded bliss.

    Why can’t we just shake on it
    and seal it with a kiss?

  33. Funkomatic

    To sit in the chair with wooden arms
    Such would be a Father’s heaven
    Ignoring the klaxons and alarms
    To sit in the chair with wooden arms
    Confident my loves face no harms
    A spell no claim against to leaven
    To sit in the chair with wooden arms
    Such would be a Father’s heaven

  34. Snow Write

    GETTING COMFY
    The storm brews outside
    The wind cries to get in
    I pull down the blinds
    To protect my fair skin

    I fill up the pot
    To heat water for tea
    The whistle blows steam
    I pour a cup for me

    Blankets inviting
    I sink into the couch
    Wrapped in warm fabric
    No worries if I slouch

    A book in my hand
    A candle by my side
    Nestled for reading
    No schedule to abide

    Immersed in fiction
    Nothing can disrupt me
    I feel so relaxed –
    Oh dear, I have to pee!

  35. Delaina Miller

    New Neighbors

    Out from the cedar tree
    wings stretched wide
    our new neighbors built
    their home in eaves of mine.
    Beak load by beak load
    the sides of the roost form.
    Despite the roof
    that shelters us both,
    the mighty Wren
    places a giant leaf on top
    to disguise his one room shack.
    Carpeted wall to wall
    with cedar fresh needles
    the newly settled home
    is a cat proof mansion.
    We try to be good neighbors.
    We don’t ask them to water
    when we are away
    and we all keep watch
    of each other’s doorways.

  36. modscribery

    Day 28: Settled poem

    “Wellspring”

    The new well
    behind my home,
    revealed
    I had been walking on water
    all the time, ten feet down.

    The silt settled,
    and I grew tall,
    strong,
    and grateful
    drinking the
    generous flow.

  37. sbpoet

    had it been on offer
    i would have settled for less
    cantaloupe on a white plate
    a single-occupancy room

    had it been on offer
    the kindness of strangers
    a single-occupancy room
    the kiss of your mouth

    the kindness of strangers
    is a weight on the heart
    the kiss of your mouth
    mangos and lemons

    is a weight on the heart
    a blessing or curse
    mangos and lemons
    one narrow bed

    a blessing or curse
    an unanswered prayer
    one narrow bed
    a window that opens

    an unanswered prayer
    the sound of your voice
    a window that opens
    lilacs in spring

    i would have settled for less
    had it been on offer
    the kiss of your mouth
    had it been on offer

    ~ sharon brogan
    http://www.sbpoet.com

  38. bookworm0341

    “The Way I See It”

    How do you do it?
    Captivate my heart like this-
    like you’ve owned it from the start.
    It has tried to go its own way
    and fall for someone else,
    but it’s loyalty lies with you.

    It’s quite hard to be so close
    and not be able to touch
    You lean in towards me
    and I cannot hear past the pounding of my heart
    Imagine if we did touch
    it would be the world’s best natural spark
    Then all would be settled

    I truly wasn’t expecting this
    it’s a blessing in disguise
    because from right where I’m standing
    I can see my whole world in your eyes.

    By Jennifer M. Terry

  39. Jaywig

    Realisation

    Suddenly there is another woman
    with my surname.

    Suddenly I have another daughter.

    Suddenly my son is a husband.

    That’s settled: I have to learn
    Greek language and dancing.

  40. FaerieTalePoet

    2014

    My fiancé
    and I find
    the end of
    each night
    next to each other
    on the couch
    watching Netflix
    and playing games
    on our iPads.

    Years from now
    when we have
    grandkids
    they will laugh
    at how outdated
    the references
    in this poem are.

  41. jean

    S T L

    We are
    Going to re-settle
    In Seattle
    Without the kids.
    Since they are all gone,
    It will suit all.—
    So, we’re house-hunting,
    Two days,
    To see it all.
    My frustrations
    Are anything but
    Subtle.
    He thinks
    A fancy restaurant
    With his business friends
    Will help.
    Enough food will
    Sate all.
    We sit till
    A long-limbed waiter comes –
    So tall –
    To take our order.

    I’ll have
    A vegetable saute’; he’ll
    Have something deep fried
    Which in his stomach
    Will set. Ill
    He will be
    Before too long.
    … Before we settle in Seattle.
    Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all See it all Subtle Sate all Sit till So tall Saute’, he’ll Set, ill Settle Seattle Suit all

COMMENT