Before getting to the prompt today, a few notes. First, it’s the final day to submit a pitch for the 2014 Poet’s Market book. Poets who want to submit poems for the next edition still have until September 1. In both cases, check the guidelines. Second, PA regular Khara House recently shared an inventive way to play with words on my personal blog. Click here to read her Word Play post. Finally, I just received my desk copies of the 2013 Writer’s Market. Click here to learn more about the latest and greatest Writer’s Market.
For today’s prompt, write a poem that includes the following five words: change, wrap, bottle, bargain, bear.
Here’s my attempt:
“For the way you live”
Change everything, the way you wrap your mind
around a bargain, the way you bottle the things
you might have said, the way you verb your nouns,
because I can’t bear hug my way out of that moment
when everything seemed so perfect and true.
*****
Follow me on Twitter @robertleebrewer
*****
Bring Your Characters to Life Premium Collection
Whether you write poetry, fiction, or nonfiction, learn how to bring your characters to life with this premium collection of books, webinars, and more.
bargain
by juanita lewison-snyder
and when the change finally comes
can you truly wrap yourself around it?
can you spin the bottle, take a chance
bear the price that follows when you
bargain with the devil
just for a slice of that home pie?
© 2012 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder
Well, besides being late with this one, it’s late anyway.
WITH APOLOGIES TO PETE T.
————————
Change the change,
Bottle the bottle;
Wrap the wrap,
Throttle the throttle.
Bargain the bargain,
Find the find;
Bear the bear,
Mind the mind.
Drink the drink,
Dance the dance;
Free the free,
Chance the chance.
View the view,
Walk the walk;
Claim the claim,
Talk the talk,
Pitch the pitch,
Swing the swing.
Name the name,
Ring the ring.
Goose the goose,
Ride the ride;
Dog the dog,
Slide the slide.
Game the game,
Light the light;
Drive the drive,
Right the right.
I realize I’m a “week late…” too many excuses, but one reason – packing my 18 year old off to college kept me focused on other things…
In any event…
Herewith is my attempt in song…
The lyrics are largely spoken over a guitar accompaniment as Verlon Thompson has done so well on “The Guitar” and “The Dinner Bell” (to name two).
MORE THAN I BARGAINED FOR
(c) 2012 – G. Smith (BMI)
———————————————–
She worked at the gift wrap counter,
At Belk’s down on the square,
And my whole world turned inside out
When I saw her standing there.
I was just a farm boy,
In town one Saturday,
From our place out in the county.
She took my breath away.
She placed the bow where the ribbons crossed,
And handed me my change,
While I tried to find something else to say,
And not feel awkward or act too strange.
She looked at me and smiled a smile,
That said she felt it, too,
And I couldn’t help but look away,
Her eyes were just that blue.
I screwed up my courage and asked her name,
About the time I saw the tag,
But she laughed and told me anyway,
As she handed me my bag.
“A Christmas present for my mom,”
I found my self explaining,
I couldn’t bear to think what I sounded like,
I had to be quite entertaining.
She smiled again and thanked me
Saying, “Y’all come back real soon.”
I thought it was just a part of her job,
Till she said, “We close at noon.”
I had two more hours of errands to run,
I knew Dad didn’t like to wait,
I told her I would hurry back,
And do my best to not be late.
Time dragged by at the feed and seed;
As we loaded up the truck,
But it flew when I wasn’t looking,
And all that saved me was pure dumb luck
The courthouse clock struck quarter of,
I know Daddy had to know,
He said, “Drive on back up to the square, but,
Take it kind of slow.”
She’d just stepped out the front door
As I pulled it to the curb,
Something said she was used to four doors,
But she didn’t seem disturbed
That I was in an old step-side truck
With bales of hay in back;
A little rust on the old white roof,
Gray fenders that used to be black.
“Just barely made it,” I said with a grin,
“Can I offer you a ride?”
She said, “You may,” as I opened her door
And she climbed on up inside.
Two blocks over and three blocks up,
It wasn’t too far a drive,
But it was a place I’d never been to,
I’d never felt so much alive.
And I got more,
Than I bargained for;
Walking out
Of that ten cent store,
So much more,
Than I deserved;
And all it took,
Was a little nerve;
A young plowboy
And a small-town girl
From opposite sides
Of the same small world,
Right then and there,
At her front door;
I got more,
Than I bargained for.
I walked her to her front porch,
Where she kissed me on the cheek,
And slipped inside the house before I
Had a chance to speak.
The courthouse clock rang quarter past,
I knew I had to go,
Would anything ever come of this?
I feared the answer: No.
If I could bottle up that magic,
I’d be a millionaire,
And I’d trade it in a New York minute,
If I could find her standing there.
Go Time
An old blues song says:
You got to bottle up and go.
I guess we all know when change
Wraps us up in its blanket
And heads for the door
Bearing us away physically
While we bargain for a few
More moments of bargaining
Time.
A Love
I can’t bear to bottle it up,
Wrap it up,
Change it up,
Your love is no bargain.
Oops – sorry for the redundant, poorly edited comment.
I just thought it was poetic “reiteration…” (something I suffer from, along with being busy, the rare mini-vacation, procrastination…)
: )
g
Late again – a combination of being busy, a mini-vacation, procrastination and a lazy muse. I love word prompts, and don’t know why it took so long to come up with this – maybe a combination of being busy, a mini-vacation, procrastination and a lazy muse.
For an Ailing Friend
It’s more than you ever bargained for,
almost more than you can bear.
I don’t know how I would handle it
if I were in your place.
You have few options left,
there’s not much you can change.
If I could bottle strength and courage
I would give you a case.
If I could weave a blanket of acceptance,
of peace of mind, I would wrap you in it.
For my grandma
I want to wrap my lips on the lip
Of that beautiful bear shaped bottle
sitting in the window
allowing the suns to pass through
its orange blue or green
self confident glass
I ask the lady at the desk what
she’ll take for it
she says she’ll give me a bargain
“Change back time,
remove the dust from this house,
fill it with the smell of bacon and coffee,
and it’s yours for free.”
Bottles
A bottle of change, bitter wine of rumor,
innuendo and bargain computers wrap
Their way around the room. We open the bottle
only to find nothing has changed
and what we bore yesterday
we will bear today as another
Work Gremlin Genie
is free to sever hopes and dreams
PS: Loved Khara’s Wordplay post. Commented over yonder.
Fresh back from vacation and late to the party, again.
Mine is here:
http://whimsygizmo.wordpress.com/2012/08/12/wrap-it-up/
TIME OUT
Before leaving the car they prepare themselves
that in a park they bear burdens that lay large
on them, the objects of which they are in charge
putting together on the campground, like elves
industrious, everybody engages at some task
they know what they’re doing, quietly efficiently
complete their work. Relaxing under a tree
gazing at their creation, what more could they ask
how much better than this can a life become
on a gentle day together lying in the shade
as the traffic on road whizzes by, they laid
back with a bottle of brew, peanuts, and some
ambience thrown in to sweeten this
time out from under the grinding day to day.
Ah! there’s more to do, it be’s that way
sometimes, still, like puckering for a kiss
a little effort to get there is worth the time
to requite the wish that waited in the wings
the package of hours spent, the bell that rings
that closes out necessity. Sublime
walks down to the river, to dip their feet
into the water, returning barefoot, gaze
at the sunset, watch the heavens phase
into evening starlight, wrap them, greet
the passions that unfold as the moon appears
as the music of nightfall hovers over them. Here
these bargains don’t come every day, costs mere
pennies of thoughts that shower the mind, and clears
out the warehouse of visions washes the eyes
opening up a permanent sound and light
show that nothing stays the same, bright
but accessible, soft, they begin to realize
that change is something that happens all the time,
no matter, even when you sit tight. the hands
of the clock move from second to second, lands
onto somewhere new, either flowers climb
or wither and drop to the ground. Each minute
like a diamond that rotates, that spins, that shines,
elucidates them, tells them who they are, refines
them. They return, taking the lesson with it..
Zev Davis
THIS USED TO BE A CITY
A long climb to the pass between watersheds,
a dusty trail flecked with granite.
My dog’s saddlebags are full of hikers’ litter.
Granola wraps, one dried-out, muddy
sock; shards of broken bottle; sunglasses.
From a fire-circle by the lake, a frying
pan without a handle; I sling it in a Woodsy-
Owl sack over my shoulder. One more
reminder of my fellow man. We haven’t met
a hiker since we crossed the divide.
Now, a thousand vertical feet of switchbacks
to the river, down a snake-winding path
between volcanic peaks. Not a human
sound. How many men once made a home
here, mining the mountain – then
left the canyon to its sun and stars. To wind.
How things change.
My dog lifts her nose, sniffs the air.
She sparkles. Her eyes say “someone’s
to be found.” She lies. There’s not another
soul for twenty miles. She’s crittering –
shoving her head deep in sagebrush.
Ground squirrel? What can I trust, if not my
dog? And there, tucked under gray-
green leaves, an OD-green commando
sweater. It still bears human scent.
One more mystery the canyon keeps in its
long memory of water bargaining
with rock. Its river is a flowing well
of stars. Ancient and forever-present ages
with man, or without.
This is a little more seriously taken than my last posting… and I ramped things up a notch or three to include:
* Using the word in order:
* Using the words as either a noun or a verb in one stanza, and then as their “alter ego” verb or noun in the second stanza;
* Not changing their tense or endings
That said, here’s my…
RESOLUTION
———————-
I’m gonna change the way I look at things,
Not wrap myself around my troubles anymore;
Start seeing the bottle half-full and not half-empty.
Break my bargain with the devil, and stop
Being the grumpy old bear you think I am.
This change is gonna take some time,
The wrap is wound so tight around my soul.
It’s hard not to bottle up those feelings,
When you bargain for release, you keep things close at hand,
But I know I can make it if you’ll just help me bear the load.
Ignorant masses clamor for change
A bargain expected
Truth is so strange
Wrap your reality like
A tightened coil
All smoke and mirrors
Bottled snake oil
Future to pass
That we cannot bear
Minds so blank
We sit and we stare.
Ha! finally figured this new (to me) system out! I know–not really that difficult. No comments on my mental abilities, please
I’ll wrap myself in change
like a survivor blanket
handed me by the Red Cross.
I’l not look back at how it was,
but bottle it–essence of summer
for sipping in December.
By counting the ‘new’ a bargain,
I can bear to pay the price.
FORGETFULNESS
on a line by Billy Collins
As if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
drifted away in corked bottles, names detached
from faces, as distance bears away the years. You call
our Cowboy by the name of his grandsire, Taco.
In my mind Cody merges with Firebird, gentle blond
ladies shawled with black wraps; by pedigree unrelated.
Fifteen dogs over the space of forty years. All
German Shepherds, yet each as individual as a face
in a high school yearbook. Almost strangers now.
I can still feel the silk behind Prissy’s ears. Just now,
as I retrieved shreds of a poem from Loki’s jaws,
I called her Odyssey, still sailing wreckage through
my heart; gone seven years and longer, returning
but changed, with a different name and face.
Such a bargain Life offers us. Gone forever, still
present. This image behind my eyes.
Balancing Acts
May the bird of happiness fly up your nose
You sang and waved an empty bottle of beer
And kissed the grandmas, made them happy, I suppose
You were happiest when spreading cheer.
“Life is a bargain!” strangers that you met
on barstools where you spouted philosophy
to girls and women who would soon forget
those worn-out lines you quoted from TV
Change came slowly to our little crowd
When one bar closed, another was soon found
Another year to wrap, and say the name out loud
Of whoever it was that answered a different sound.
Quarrelling voices had replaced the song
The Hippie in the corner stayed away
Aquarius learned his age had come and gone
And I will help you bear the corpse away
Early Wednesday Morning
Women bear change with a soft
compassion. They seldom weep
and are not blind or deft
to play or mysteries of winter
sex or summer passion. They wrap
in sheets of stars and let morning
parachute in brocades of smoke
and waves. Women bear change
with soft compassion. A drum
bargains with breaths of energy
and grace. A bottled-up ocean
brings the beauty of help and a
welder of words to each day.
Ancient tracks frozen in far-off
snowfalls witness that women
bear change with compassion and
hope.
INSTRUCTIONS
————————
Change wrap.
Wrap bottle.
Bottle bargain.
Bargain bear.
Bear change.
Still trying to wrap my head around
The way your voice changes when
There’s a bottle in your hand, and
Poison in your system
I can’t bear to see you
Bargain your body for the
Black and white perspective,
The nothing-in-between,
clear-as-day kaleidoscope
You’ve never gotten to look through before
As the day grows into evening, and
The money you had turns to only loose change,
Will you regret what you’ve spent for a sip?
You’ve spent the last dollar in your wallet
Your life, your future, your soul
As the evening grows into night,
And the sky turns to a cool gray,
My eyes blur when I realize that
It’s no longer the same.
Your lips that I’ve kissed,
Your hands that I’ve held,
They’re no longer mine.
They belong to the bottle.
Almost passed out,
You can no longer see the gray sky.
All you see is black and white,
And circling stars of red.
Modern Age
All these electronics
are more than I can bear.
With all these programs,
I am programmed,
and that’s part of the bargain,
to sit in a row of cubicles
silent with emotions bottled.
I wait for repair,
spending so much time there,
changes and forced gallantry
wrap themselves around my dreams.
I see your change here and it works well. Good poem.
Thank you, Sara.
“This is not a poem”
I refuse to write a poem
about a bear
due to the bargain I made with
one when I was ten, my family
can bear witness to the fact
that I did not change or alter the
story in any way. That bear was
only inches away—just try to wrap
your brain around that. It’s a
miracle I didn’t take to the bottle
then, but then again, I was only ten.
OH MY GOODNESS!! True story, Janice??
Modern Age
All these electronics
are more than I can bear.
With all these programs,
I am programmed,
and that’s part of the bargain,
to sit in a row of cubicles
silent with emotions bottled.
I wait for repair,
spending so much time there,
this forced gallantry
becomes a part of my dreams.
Poison ivy (octain refrain)
Don’t touch me on my back today
unless you bear a way to make
this itching change. By now I’d take
A bottle full of meds, I’d pray,
I’d wrap my skin or soak in gin
I’d bargain with the Devil… Say
soothing words but for heaven’s sake
don’t touch me on my back today.
Oh, poor you! And I like the form. I’ll have to check it out.
It’s Here: Autumn
When the sun wraps itself around
painted trees with a flash of hot colour
on frosty leaves, you’ll know it’s here.
Autumn.
When clear skies make temperatures
rise and fall, your breath caught in a cloud
and held in midair, you’ll know it’s here.
Autumn.
When the change of season brings a change
of clothes, from bare legs to thick hosiery,
woollens and gloves, you’ll know it’s here.
Autumn.
When you wrap your chilled bones in blankets,
warming toes with a hot water bottle, then you’ll
know it’s all more than you bargained for. It’s
Autumn.
And when autumn falls into its declining pace,
you’ll know that it’s time to make like a bear
and turn grizzly. It’s here.
Autumn.
~Misky
left my comment on your blog.
You never cease to amaze me. Beautifully done, with a bit of humor, and no sign whatsoever that you had mandatory words to fit in. Bravo!
Change
Change thrown scornfully
in front of him,
the layered bear of a man bends
on hands and knees in a chasing
supplication –
an empty
bargain bottle
clinking softly
in expectation
beside him.
http://unevenstevencu.blogspot.com/
forgot the word wrap
Change
Change thrown scornfully
in front of him,
the flithy wrap
layered bear of a man bends
on hands and knees in a chasing
supplication –
an empty
bargain bottle
clinking softly
in expectation
beside him.
Wonderful words, Un.
Yes. Truly.
Vantage Point
The bear cub
wrapped around
a tree limb high
above the campground
has the perfect
position from which
to launch a discussion
about human selfishness,
changes in weather patterns,
and lost habitat.
But he is frightened
and oddly engaged
by rangers in brown uniforms
hoping to bargain him down
with a full baby bottle
shaped like a honey bear.
He calls repeatedly
for his mother, caged
there in a truck bed,
but she lies still, groggy
from darted medication.
The campers
take pictures.
Tonight, they will
trade stories of
bears attacking
humans in the wild.
Having been someone who has had a very close encounter with a griz. (like less than a foot away)I’m kind of a fan of the Sleepy Time Tea darts.
Change
We could not bear
Those nights
Us two smallest ones
in footed pajamas
Watching
The change that came
Pouring over them
When the bottle was torn
From its wrap
And we began to bargain
With a God we were
Not longer sure listened
Fifty Shades of Heard It All Before
They gasp in what they see as societal change
The lovely young thing acquiescing to a wrap
To a bottle placed where drinking cannot be
A bargain of three hundred plus pages
Of promised titillation, beyond what one can bear
Except for those who have swallowed all from
Anna Karenina, through Lolita, Fanny Hill, Tropics Cancer
and Capricorn, on and on and on to
The Story of
O – So Already Been There, Read That,
Written In More Vivid Detail,
So Very Long Ago.
Two great ones, Dr. P.
Awww than you Sara
. Means a great deal to hear from you.
Oh . . . tears.
Referring to “Change,” that is . . .
Oh … maybe they just need o wait a but to free up and have fun without the trappings of submission….
WOW. INCREDIBLY EMOTIVE AND POWERFUL PIECE.
Just, wow…
I mean “Change.” “Fifty Shades” is wonderful as well, but Change really got to me.
Oh thank you Marie – means a great deal… to all little ones…past, present and let’s hope not in a future to come
Night Nurse
She comes on squeaky shoes
To change the dressing
With cool competent fingers
Finds the end of the wrap
Fiddles with the bottle drip
With this and a soft smile
Makes all easier to bear
in the seasons change
Summer drops her filmy wrap
as a bottle note
drifting on the sea
bobbing a tided bargain
“long fall? short winter?”
Life Inevitable
Bear in mind that change is inevitable.
You can try to bottle yourself up,
Saving youth for a rainy day
Sometime in your dotage,
But that may not be such a good bargain.
After all, by the time you find yourself
To be capable of finding yourself,
By the time you can wrap your head around
What you really want out of life,
The last grains of sand will be trickling
Slowly to the bottom of the hourglass.
Oooh what wisdom, angst and hope! Beautiful
Aww, thanks!
My philosophy exactly!
I managed to work the words into a poem I was already writing…
http://hopefuljo.wordpress.com/2012/08/08/365-creativity-project-day-212/
Look Out
What would change his mind
Was it me or was he blind
Could he not of seen
All the i done
He ran so fast
I wanted to wrap the bottle in around my lips
He wanted to slip through my finger tips
I told him i got a bargain
When i went to the shops
He thought that i was mad
He tried to ring the cops
He was like a different person
Like nothing i had seen before
When suddenly a knock
Slamming on the door
He was brave and strong he opened it up
And to his surprise
A hairy angry bear
I walked away and said oh dear
Smile
Hard Lessons
I’m learning that I can’t
always change how much
I can bear by bargaining
cleverly, by wrapping what is
in what is not and never was,
by bottling my feelings up
and floating them
toward some unknown
happier destination.
I think I’m growing up.
Wisdom becomes you
Lovely!
Change
Change is not only inevitable but without it,
life would be dreadfully boring.
Like never getting a wrapped present.
Like finding a bottle in the sea with no note.
Like never finding a bargain at a yard sale.
Like a bear hibernating, but no food in spring.
Change is what makes it worth waking up.
Aw Connie – such profound thought in a deceptively simple poem
THE MESSAGE
A bargain bottle lay
in the shop all day.
A sailor asked for change:
his voice was sad and strange.
He pushed a little note
inside the bottle’s throat.
The sailor watched the sea
and knew instinctively
that waves would roll, and wrap
around the corkscrew cap.
He cast away all care:
the tide would gently bear
his bottle to the shore.
But storms arose and tore
this message from his heart
as oceans fell apart.
© Caroline Gill 2012
Differences
Bear with me, I say
when moody,
bottled up
emotions, wrapped tightly
waiting to explode.
You will not bargain,
not admit
anything
has changed, sulking yet saying,
`your perception’s wrong.
————————————
Diminished
I cannot bear to see
the changes wrought
upon her mind, wrapping
ripped as an open gift,
words she needs, bottled
up and corked. What sort
of bargain are golden years?
I like both of these, strong imagery.
Thanks, PowerUnit!
These are beautiful! Thanks for sharing.
Oooh I THIRD the previous comments. Powerful poems! Bravo
Thanks Miss R, and Dr. P. I really appreciate your comments.
EXPIRED DREAMS
(a shadorma)
stuffed-bear dreams
wrapped in bargain threads
change with age;
now bottled
~ drawn upon uneasily ~
they crumble away
2012-08-08
P. Wanken
Oooooo, I like this! So much in so few words.
I love this, Paula, especially your beginning.
What do you say?
Here it is!
The bargain of the week:
You must change the length of your poems.
Bear in mind I have ADD and a bottle of pills
won’t keep my attention spam from wandering.
Wrap up your endings in napkins and post-it notes
and I promise to read more than yesterday.
Done! ^_^
* attention span (oh, Lord, help this ecuadorian) LOL
I totally know what you mean! I’m definitely guilty of skipping over the longer poems. My loss, really.
Thank you Robert – will be back to read – I love these! Could go on and on and on – but thank goodness for you all I will not!
The Bargain
There in the city of Change lying in a silken open wrap on the soft scented meadow, empty bottle of finest
champagne – tousled hair spread, limbs flung asunder
she watched the clouds drift in the rising sun fingered
dawn and contemplated whether she could bear her
bargain
My Friend Change
Higgeley Piggeley my friend called Change
Had honey bees buzz his head which all found strange
Higgeley Piggeley my friend called Change
Held a bottle of honey always in chest close range
Higgeley Piggeley my friend called Change
Never had to bargain with a bear, like others, charging them with mange
Higgeley Piggeley, my friend called Change
Simply trotted home leaving honey and bees in safe passaged exchange
When You Turn 13 {First draft}
I’ll wrap thirteen presents (a few, gift cards)
Throw away twelve bows; stick one on your head
Watch your dad and brothers bear hug you ten times
Make breakfast at nine, get ready to shop
Take you eight places ‘til you make up your mind
Change the radio station seven times, at least
Pray for a bargain in our hunt for six shirts
The five of us will go to dinner, but where?
Four places to choose from, at last we’re here
Order three appetizers, salads and bread to share
A bottle or two of water (not beer, shame on you)
One happy teenager, another birthday gone
<3 Beautiful birthday!
I hope so… It’s Friday.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Lovely the way I was in the rhythym all the way through and then fittingly the last line – just stopped…
Enjoyed the poem – Enjoy the birthday!
Aww, so cute!
he downs a bottle
expands like a rubber band
killing romance and a few organs inside
she finds it hard to wrap her arms around him
wishes he could change this habit
sends promises up to heaven, bargains with the devil
for things only he can undo
the unbearable thought of losing him pops into her head
as the side of his mattress caves in
This is powerful, Jacqueline…
* his side of the mattress…
Thanks, Diana!
Strong commentary here, Jacqueline. Love it!
Alone in the night….
Change the diaper
Wrap the swaddle cloth
Around the milky bottle
That papa won in a bargain
Unable to bear his inability to feed
His now cuddled infant
Satiated in the night
Just the two of them
I love this image.
The Short Lived Tale of Link*
The short lived tale of Link
Ended with the audacious fellow
Sailing his windtorn sailing ship
Into a small puddle
Where he stood upon the deck
Empty port bottle in hand attempting
To bear or bargain the torturous turn
His life had taken where brisk winds and
Smooth waters had instead viciously wrung
His last drop of capacity for change as he
Shook his tiny fist at an unforgiving sky
And called his suddenly puny life a wrap
As the gargantuan foot of a whistling Shop-
Keeper crushed him and his craft
Leaving but a tiny remnant of his iron rail
Wedged in the cleat of a clinking sole
Tapping out an immutable tragedy in
A world too large to care.
Was he related to Stuart Little? Or to, perhaps, Tinkerbell?
Haha -wrote a Wordle over the weekend – that was similar
^_^
Estee Lauder
She wrapped up the bottle
and handed me my change.
I knew I shouldn’t buy it;
the price was not my range !
I always love a bargain,
can’t bear to pass a sale,
but then I dropped the perfume
and ended this sad tale.
*sigh* I did this with Kahlua once. (or rather, it was my cats who knocked it off the counter and sent it shattering over the floor)
Aww, man!
This brought memories for me too. I dropped my Carolina Herrera once. I was so mortified. My bathroom smelled pretty for days though. ^^
This is tragic. :/ All of us sigh a little in sympathy for you.
Perspective
A bear of a man
Wearing tattered tennis shoes
And a moth-eaten overcoat
Walked into a bargain bottle shop.
This bear of a man
picked up a pint
Of cheap rotgut
From one of the shelves
And brought it up to
the cashier at the wrap desk.
The cashier wrinkled his nose
In distaste
as he said, “Four ninety five.
You hobos are all the same.”
The bear of a man
Handed the cashier
A twenty dollar bill.
Stunned, the cashier said,
“Oh,”
And after a pause,
“Here, let me get your change.”
The bear of a man
Shook his head and said,
“No. Keep it.
You need change more than I.”
###
Ooh… great one, RJ. I love the ending!
Important message here. Well written.
Maybe he just LIKES that taste…or he uses it to pour on bullet wounds, like John Wayne… LOL I enjoyed this one, RJ!
Well done!!
What a twisted ending, and so deserved. Great one, RJ!
Shopping
Latest broadcasts proclaim
a bear market for investors,
While picking bargain coverage
Leads down paths of change
Better left untrod.
Holidays loom, a chance to wrap
Gifts and toast from a favorite
Bottle of prized libation
As thoughts of next year’s
Spending habits re-align.
i loved seeing how everyone interpreted the “bottle”!
And here’s mine:
BEARS AND BUNNIES AND DEATH, OH MY
And he, like a bear with a thorn in his paw,
roars
while I, like a bunny bargaining for his small life,
open a bottle of sooooooothe
thinking,
“I really need to change where I hang out in this forest
before he wraps me in a tortilla and calls me
lunch.”
“wraps me in a tortilla” had me snorting my tea. ^_^ Good one!
What Pharmacists Really Think
Bear in mind, sweet little ignorant customer
with your treacherous high heels, sleek shiny slip-on dress-like thingy you’re wrapped in, and that God-awful jewelry.
This little bottle of pills is no bargain.
No, you might think your future secure, your health a model of fine living,
but it’s all about to change.
One innocent little prescription
has that power.
Beware my pretty.
O_O What was the prescription?? My mind races… ^_^
Encounters
Bargain trips come
With price tags unseen,
Wrap around your life
As a bottle does around
Age-mellowed fine brandy,
Before change brings to bear
What you needed most to
See, Be, Do, or Meet.
“Bargain trips come with price tags unseen.” True that. ^_^ Well done, Claudsey!
Oooh liked that same line that Domino pointed out – the entire flavor of this poem is a delicious drink:)
`wrap around your life’ – Love this, Claudsy.
Change a diaper or deal with assholes
You must always wrap up the shit
Don’t bottle it up inside
Life is not a bargain
Bears leave it out there
Out in the woods
You can too
That’s no
shit.
LOL
I respect when someone gets to the point, vividly and with a witty use of metaphor and leaves me smiling!
glad you enjoyed!
Gifts
The cashier handed me my change,
just a few cents left, and I clung
to the last gift I needed to
buy this year. Just a pair of gloves
for my best friend whose hands seem to
be eternally cold; a bar-
gain price, even if it was all
I had left. That plus the bottle
of cologne for my sister and
I was finished with shopping for
another year. And thank goodness
because I didn’t have all that
much to begin with. When would I
learn to start buying in August?
I took full advantage of the
free gift-wrap service; when pennies
are tight, this is just the sort of
thing that saves my bacon again.
Discarding choices of children’s-
themed paper—endless candy canes,
Santas, and cheerful toy teddy
bears—I had them use the standard
store red and green, festive enough
for my few friends and family.
Pushing through the crush on this
dark winter night, I finally
emerged and breathed in deep the cold
air. It had begun snowing while
I was inside, and I felt my
escape from the hive-mind keenly this
night. There to side of the door,
a young woman loitered, her card-
board sign reading simply “please help.”
Without even thinking, I walked
to her, dug out my change, and pressed
the wrapped gift of gloves into her
icy hands. “You should open it now.”
I smiled to myself as I went;
my friend would appreciate this
gift even more than the gloves.
Diana Terrill Clark
Love this.
<3 Thanks!
I second the love!
Exquisitely wrought and thought!
Oh yes, this is lovely!!
Glad you like it, ladies. ^_^
Lovely and thoughtful poem, Diana.
Telling Stories
bear them proudly and do not weep
or seek to change
the scars of a life lived
in exquisite fervor
impassioned delight
wraps you with imprints of enchantment
magic woven into flesh
revealing stories
too amazing to be bottled within
instead leave the chronicles
exposed
their presence is a bargain
Well done Tania!
I hid a change of clothes under my wrap,
Went to the market to barter:
Sex for five dollars,
Five dollars for food,
Food to fill my children’s bellies,
For their cries are more than I can bear.
Today I get a bargain,
A drink from his bottle before he begins.
Oh man – sad/good!
Thank you.
Awesome!!!
Thank you
WOWEEE!!!! Elegant Excellent – A punch to the gut!
Indeed. Thank you.
I love poems that tell a story. Very powerful. Good job!
First-time Mother
When first babies come along, new moms
can hardly bear the torrents of advice,
unneeded help coming from all quarters.
Everyone fancies herself an expert,
weighing in on breast or bottle—
let him get up for midnight feedings,
cloth diapers—such a bargain really—
or Pampers—you rarely need to change him,
suggesting the baby is too warm—
wrap him up in swaddling clothes—
or too cool—let him go bare. Her mother
turns her into a weepy grown-up baby; his
turns her into a cold, hard stone,guarding
her territory. Strangers—the same ones
who so brazenly touched her swollen belly—
now try to take the newborn from her arms,
oblivious to their germs, to her fears.
When her head clears, she wishes
she could show gratitude for love,
concern, voices of wisdom, experience,
but at first, she wants to do it her way,
to hold her baby all day if she chooses.
After all, for nine months now, she held
him, and now she still wants him close.
So true… it’s almost like all the others have to outdo each other with better war-stories and advice…
Ahhhhhhh Nancy – perfectly captured the frustration and the powerful desire that is at the seat of true mother/child bonding…. WONDERFUL
)))
Life is five words
Life is a bear, sure, but I’m no bargain either!
I’m a bottle of bad, dressed up in birthday wrap.
A box of cigarette butts, loose change and the thousands
of ticket stubs from the train called lost opportunities.
Life is five words.
I could’ve been a contender!
I love this! So short, but really covers the subject!
Fun mixed with poignancy … does it get any better than that? Good job!
really enjoyed this one larry – great tone throughout
I love the ticket stubs as lost opportunities. Great poem!
Great prompt. Robert. It’s always such an amazing thing to see mandatory words through the eyes of different poets.
Oh, and happy anniversary to you and your lovely bride!
SOPHIE-NESS IS QUITE THE BARGAIN!
Diaper changes bottom out.
Bottles? Soon she’ll do without.
Baby-talk is gone too soon.
“All by self” with fork and spoon.
QUICK!
Wrap her gusto,
Her smiles
Her giggles
Her wiles
Those chubby-armed squeezes
And laughing-eyed teases
The unrestrained love
We can’t get enough of!
Wrap tight; tie the knot
For I can’t bear the thought
That this bliss, unsurpassed
Cannot help but not last.
This is a wonderful subject, too. So universal, and I really
like how you have dealt with it; the images and the rhyme.
Thanks Sharon!
I cannot stop smiling at this poem! You have spread Sophie-ness!
LOVE “Diaper changes bottom out” BRAVO!!!
Oh, this is just too delicious! Thank you for sharing a little piece of her with us!
Love the way you formed this poem. Flows beautifully.
Thanks so much, all!
UNEXPLORED PLACE
Life is a wilderness, an unexplored place full of deeds and words.
And given the chance, I doubt if we would even change
it one iota. Until we reach our age quota, we cling; wrap
our arms around it like a drunkard to his bottle.
For the price we pay, it is indeed a bargain,
so go after life loaded for bear!
Wrestle life with your knurled hands, bare
and aching, breaking its will with the words
you choose. Use your whole being, seeing the bargain
on your showroom floor (you get more for your change).
Stuff despair’s genie back into its bottle
and slip both into the brown paper bag wrapping.
No matter how hard it comes rapping
on life’s door, there’s much more living to bear.
The elixir of youth is a myth; there is no bottle
to give you years of vigor, living is the trigger – a forward
step into that unexplored future to nurture change
and reap much more in the bargain.
No cost is too great to make your life a more fulfilling bargain.
Our time is short, and we waste it cavorting and snorting, trapping
our souls in a downward spiral gone viral. We need to change,
rearrange our ways and live our days with the bare
essentials. Faith in our purpose, hope in our future, love of the words
we offer to heal our wounds and soothe our souls. Do not bottle
everything inside, or hide your desires. The resulting bottle-
neck of emotion will sap your devotion, rendering life as no bargain.
In plain jargon, this place of deeds and words
will devour us if we do not see its worth; get wrapped
up in it. It lives in the depth of your soul: bare
it. It’s never too late to change.
Like many nickels and dimes, we line God’s pockets like loose change,
We wait to be poured out like fine wine from dusty bottles.
But, be aggressive in its pursuit. Bear
down and give your all, and if you fall, get back up again.
Be free to live unfettered, unwrapped.
Be willing to love fully in deed and word.
Words alone will not foster change.
Remove the wrap of deceit; pour from the bottle of truth.
It’s a safe bargain that living will be worth everything that you bear.
Walt, Walt, WALT…
A sestina before noon? A QUALITY sestina before noon??
You
blow
me
a
w
a
y
This is wonderful.
I saw this on your blog Walt but I hoped you posted it here too; it’s freakin’ brilliant … you really do OWN this form and have really done it justice with this mesmerizing call to all to live life … very, very well done!
“Like many nickels and dimes, we line God’s pockets like loose change,
We wait to be poured out like fine wine from dusty bottles.”
ONE OF YOUR BEST IMHO (okay not so humble – but my opinion nevertheless) I agree with “brilliant’ is not overstated for this poem!
Thanks Ladies. I love the challenge of this form for some reason. I have a formula that seems to work well for me. I appreciate your comments of support. Brilliance is akin to beauty. It depends who’s looking at it, but thanks you again.
EMPTY SIDEWALKS
Everything flowers, from within, of self-
blessing, the poet said. My puppy
leads me up Main Street, a constant tug
on the leash. Past Heyday, The Tree House,
and here in the storefront boutique
a bouquet of
sky-blue buds in a cobalt
bottle. But it’s the fireplug
that pulls her, rapture of lingering scent
from life passed yesterday,
perhaps, or the day before. Weather bargains
with time as to what remains –
memory of passings, scraps
the westwind bears up Main, to catch
in pavement cracks or be blown like rumor
past the courthouse; wrapped in leaf-fall
in the gutter; changed by drip
and swelter, aged like a once-seen
face. These memories last, floating
on rafts of skin to sail the air-currents
and wash up against the shore of, say, this
fireplug.
Unknown lives flowering, unseen,
but present to a dog’s nose.
This time of morning, Main Street’s deserted,
dead you might say, except for
the girl who comes out of Zia’s to hang the day’s
specials by the door.
My puppy pauses, lifts
her head, fills her lungs
with morning street life, blessing it, herself
a single blossom.
“These memories last, floating on rafts of skin to sail the air-currents and wash up against the shore of, say, this fireplug.”
Taylor, who but you could write of a puppy lifting its leg to a fireplug so stinkin’ beautifully?
I love this, Taylor. Wonderful ending.
Thanks, Marie Elena & Sara! You made my day.
THE GIFT
Wrap the bottle, wrap the bear, wrap the silky shirt for him to wear
Wrap my heart, my hope, my pain
Will he ever see the change?
Will he see a bargain there? Not a bargain meant to be.
I give you this and you love me?
No, I give you love, I give you me
I give you truth in all that you see.
Take the bottle, take the bear, take the silky shirt to wear
Take my truth, take my pain
Take it to us, to be us again.
Great rhythm and subject. Nice work!
Thank you, Marie!
The bottle: stuck half way down the chute.
Too far inside to wrap my hand around,
Too close to bear leaving it alone.
I tried to knock it down with another, but
The vending machine ate my change.
I curse and plead and bargain with unseen spirits.
What an interesting subject, and how perfectly you describe
our frustrating experiences with these machines!
Heh, yeah, thought about calling it First World Problems but that’s a rather overused phrase.
Thank you for the comment
nice take…
Thank you!
Good use of this prompt.
Thank you! lol it’s a bit silly, but was fun to write.
Self Serve
A garage sale displays possessions
once treasured, now unwanted
or always misfit, never cherished.
Seller intends to remove some of life’s clutter.
Whatever motivates the bargain hunter remains a mystery.
The seller prefers to avoid face-to-face contact
while browsers finger the menagerie of personal property,
posts a sign on the door:
TOSS YOUR MONEY IN THE BOX. MAKE YOUR OWN CHANGE.
WRAP YOUR PURCHASE IN A PLASTIC BAG. HAVE A NICE DAY.
before retreating to the back porch with a bottle of beer
and a teddy bear that had evoked emotion.
“A Few Suggestions for Nourishing the Soul”
Wrap up good fortune
(you never know when you may need to give some as a gift)
Bottle inspiration
(so you have some for a rainy day)
Don’t bargain if you can help it.
Ask for as much as you are worth.
(If you feel you must bargain, give more than you expect to receive)
Bear your burdens with patience,
but don’t be afraid to lighten the load on a willing friend
(as long as you do the same for them)
And, if you have the time:
Change the world.
(But don’t conquer it or blow it up, please.
Leave it better than you found it)
“Leave it better than you found it” – that’s my life philosophy.
OH I DID REALLY ENJOY THIS ONE – a fabulous credo by which to live – a veritable guidebook that truly would leave the world “better than you found it.”
Devil’s Bargain (Fibonacci)
If
I
could change
who I am,
where would I begin?
Would I wrap myself in new skin?
Would I bottle up the bad bits, toss them out to sea?
I fear I would be making a devil’s bargain to rearrange the bits and pieces,
and all that would be left, a pretty but empty shell –
for we need to have balance, and
without it, we might
become less
than we
could
bear.
Bravo! Great fib!
Wonderful!
Thank you both!
This is truly wonderful in form and in philosophy!
Wonderful!
Sorry – meant to tell both you and Robert how much I enjoyed your excellent poems!
And I’ll add yours!
Ahaha – Walt, you devil … I knew I wasn’t typing fast enough over here in Italia … congrats on getting in first oh sleepless one!
The early bird DOES get the worm, Sharon. (Unfortunately, I’m just so sick of worms!)
Last Lost Opportunity
It’s a last opportunity
To bring my witness to bear
To wrap my mind around
Some words and leave them
Here not there
If only doing so were easily done
Like making a change is not I swear
Maybe I’d bottle some phrases
Perfect to leave for now
Trade mine for yours?
It’s a bargain if you care …
Very nice, Sharon. That’s a deal I’d make!
Yes, very nice. How many things those bottled phrases could be????
Do not sell yourself short young lady!
CHANGE OF LIFE(STYLE)
I’ve swapped the bottle for a life
more prone to lifting than falling.
It was my calling to change my style,
be less a bear and share love.
And while I smile more, I’m taking
life more seriously. I wrap
myself in the comfort of family
which comes as quite the bargain.
In the end, I live longer knowing
that my weaknesses are showing.
But that’s OK. It just means I’m growing.
Absolutely love this. A hearty amen.
AHHH. this poem makes me happy.
So very special… yeah for you!!
Awwww Walt – strength in vulnerability – hard to write – hard to live – absolutely worth-while for those few who can manage it! Kudos to you!
Ah, it’s tough being a man in this world. (that is not sarcastic. I really do mean it’s a tough balancing act.)
Now THIS I like! Kudos, W. Well played!