On Day 16, I asked you to write a poem with a twist at the end--something I was calling the "Alfred Hitchcock" poem. I was really impressed with the results and the creativity.
Here are the highlights.
Roommate willing to share the rent,
the bills, the responsibility; to
put the dishes in the dishwasher,
not the sink; to fold socks together,
rathering than ranting when one
disappears somewhere between
the closet floor and the laundry room.
Said person should be willing to
share the remote control, ESPN
balanced with the Food Network,
to carry on conversations
when required, to keep your thoughts
to yourself at all other time,
and to know the difference between the two.
Since the place is already furnished,
you won't need to bring anything
but your own clothes, your own books,
and, of course, your car.
I'm taking mine when I leave this place.
If he asks, just tell him I sent you.
Nancy |nposeyAT NOSPAMembarqmail dot com
"My Precious Angel"
The pillow still holds your scent
I can close my eyes
and feel the heat from your side of the bed
I spy a strand of your beautiful brown hair
and I can almost imagine
your soft doe eyes
looking back at me
Why did I have to kill you last night?
Chris Granholm Jr. |chris7baAT NOSPAMyahoo dot com
Some people do it every day.
Some do it not at all.
My aunt she does it all the time,
Some do it near the wall.
Some friends of mine, they shut their eyes.
Some friends they say don’t worry.
Some friends tell me it’s not so bad,
Just do it in a hurry.
My Gramma did it day by day
A hundred times moreover.
My mother did it only when
Her family would come over.
I feel naughty, though, to do it not,
Shame cast upon my head.
For I kick myself come evening time,
When I’ve not made my bed.
Vanessa O'Dwyer |sheswede99AT NOSPAMyahoo dot com
I slide my hand down your back
I grope and fumble
But you remain quiet
Just giving slightly to my touch
My sneaky fingers glide around
Your bottom and I’m fumbling once
More. But you are passive
C’mon c’mon, give it to me!
Finally I’m on my knees
I drag your leg away
My hand searching for the
Treasure you withhold
I just don’t believe it
I was sure you’d give it up
But, sofa, if you haven’t goy my keys
Then where the hell are they?
Iain D. Kemp |iainAT NOSPAMmovistar dot es
The aliens came today.
We were surprised
as they brought us
a message of peace
and love and then
told us how it would happen.
Our lives were wrong,
We must live like they did
and then used force to
For your own good they said.
We want to help
Help from them I cannot
need or want
So I held my head high
and they said it
would be better if
But I stood against
and as I saw the crater
in my chest
My last words were
"Go back to Earth."
Matthew |matthewabelAT NOSPAMgmail dot com
I Am Just Not A Party Animal
When we arrive, Hiro greets his pals, each in coat and tails. They rush excitedly to each other; I am ignored. With a sniff and toss of the head, my date abandons me for a drink.
It’s awkward standing here alone.
Just like junior high school mixers.
But in minutes, I run into Kathy from Curtis Park, and Nancy, and Carlo. We socialize loudly above the din; turns out we’ve got much in common.
Too soon, Hiro’s had too much. I drag him, howling and whining, to the car.
He doesn’t want to leave the dog park. Tonight, neither do I.
Cathy Sapunor |cathsapAT NOSPAMyahoo dot com
The fire was beautiful.
It burned with ferocity,
frightening me a little -
I didn't want us to catch.
You smiled and vowed to
protect me. We shared
a glass of red wine as
we settled down to snuggle
and watch the fire. You
kissed my neck and told
me you love me. I smiled
and we turned back to the fire.
Wonder where that snotty witch will live now?
Monica Martin |lilmunkey2369AT NOSPAMyahoo dot com
"Art on the Line"
My favorite lavender chiffon blouse
Fluttering in the breeze
Assorted vibrant colors
Billowing on the clothesline
Spring is here,
my collage of beautiful colors
are dry and
must come down
Alas, the lavender blouse
the wind took it
A new day,
Reflecting off the grass
And warming the tar driveway
There is John, my neighbor
Jaunting out to
Retrieve his paper
He is stunning
In my lavender chiffon
Carol -Amherst, Mass |cboudreauAT NOSPAMhampshire dot edu
"Every breath you take, every move you make, I'll be
watching you." ~Sting
When I first noticed you noticing me
I didn't think too much about it.
I didn't think I was your type,
a wife and mom of thirty something years.
But then I turned the corner and
I could still feel your eyes on me.
Staring, penetrating, unnerving.
I fumbled with my purse, and
glanced around furtively,
hoping to see something or someone else
that may catch your interest, but
I was all alone and your eyes never left me.
My hands shook, without reason.
I tried to pretend you weren't there,
to act normal and hope you'd go away.
But you inched closer, ever closer,
eyes roaming everywhere, searching.
I knew you wouldn't find whatever it was
that you were looking for, but still
you made my skin crawl and my nerves squirm.
I walked quickly away from you and out the door,
although I had done nothing to warrant your attention.
Maybe you were bored that day, or maybe you just
take your job as store security much too seriously.
Lori |brightiiizAT NOSPAMaol dot com
His brown eyes showed serious affection
and he popped ‘the question’ as we stood
beneath a large old tree. We’ve been friends
for years now, at least three, but my parents said
more time was needed. I wondered if
they saw something that I didn’t and felt
it best if their recommendation were heeded.
Back beneath the large old tree the matter
was solemnly discussed and he and I concluded
that one more year would not be too tough.
By then we would both be six, quite old enough.
Emily Blakely |ecblakelyAT NOSPAMmsn dot com
“Are you coming to bed, Darling?” you call
toward the bathroom door. I will soon,
Darling, but let me gaze upon you first,
study the way you remove your glasses,
carefully replace the bookmark in your novel,
and stretch to set them on the nightstand
before clicking off the lamp. The smell
of the jasmine outside the window surrounds
your image, making you seem even more delicate.
I watch the way you smile so sweetly
while you snuggle down into the warm blanket
that outlines your legs. I’ll be there soon, Darling,
the next time you forget to lock this window.
JL Smither |jlsmitherAT NOSPAMgmail dot com
I can’t believe your cheekiness,
Your lack of disrespect.
You’re certainly the flakiest
Coquette I ever met.
With Manolos and Guccis,
You skirt cut up to here -
Originals by Pucci,
And your lack of underwear;
Might get you adoration
And a night of random sex.
Your brain is on vacation
And your mother asks “what’s next?”
I’m absolutely done with you
You sneaky little tart
You’ve made my life a total mess,
You broke my boy friends heart.
M J Dills |mjdillsAT NOSPAMyahoo dot com
The geese are chasing the people away
from their eggs, down by the river.
The lawn is a beautiful shade of summer green
decorated with romantic iron benches.
Look at the Hollyhocks showing their hues of
sky, and blush, and sun.
The day is open, flowing wide toward forever
and I’m so glad you came to visit.
Cobblestone steps guide the way back to the patio
which delivers its closure.
The electroshock therapy is going well
please come to see me again.
maeve63 |maeveq63AT NOSPAMyahoo dot com
She sits in the easy chair
Directly in front of the roaring fire
Reading my rough manuscript
She says can we have a late dinner
I want to finish this
I want to find out what happens at the end.
Oh you don’t want to do that I say
It’s not ready…I’m not ready.
Don’t be silly she says
Don’t be so damn insecure.
I watch her read
I’m beside myself
I’m not ready for her to…
For me to…
I’m on the last chapter she says
Just give me a few more minutes
This couple you wrote about
She’s so strong and he’s so…weak.
Just keep reading I say
As I gather strength
And move in behind her
Wanting more than ever
For her to be finished.
Oh my God she says as she turns to look at me
I think he’s going to kill her!
Marcus Smith |sleeperdesuAT NOSPAMhotmail dot com
It’s not brain surgery
I can’t believe
Put me under.
All that cutting
So close to
I saw the
But I’m not
I hate haircuts!
Mike Barzacchini |mjbarzAT NOSPAMyahoo dot com