Feb. 22: vent
cool morning air
through the open door
magpies calling
February 23: Today's writing prompt is to write mischievously about a cross-eyed paleontologist studying a one-legged rhinoceros beetle nibbling an Egyptian mummy’s shoulder blade during the summer solstice on Mars, and be sure to refer to a mega-hard Sudoku puzzle, torn Monopoly money, and a vampire, plus a Mongolian-speaking Nobel prize-winner who dances polkas whenever he hears “Moves Like Jagger” on bagpipes or the Macarena song performed on an out-of-tune Northumbrian squeezebox underwater. And be sure to type in your poem with your nose while singing a Broadway show tune, since you should now have plenty of practice at doing exactly that. Anything less and I shall be supremely disappointed. Just kidding. Again. Instead, write about . . . a wig.
on Mars
summer solstice
red-hot
cross, I
watch rhino beetles
unwrap Mummy
crosswords please
not Sudoko numbers
too cryptic
blood money
vampires tear into
Monopoly
Obama now
moves like Jagger
dancing underwater
peace prize winner
out of tune with the people
faces new battles
the squeeze is felt
in Outer Mongolia
Pandora’s box
bagpipes
or Macarena ...
let’s just polka
nobody knows
the trouble I’ve seen
typing practice
haiku prompts
after 23 days
I flip my wig
Feb. 24: [the letter] x
exhausted
we cuddle in sleep
the cats purr
Feb. 25: yellow (must use the word)
yellow rose
golden in my poem
I was eight
Feb. 26: zip
humid evening
at the end of summer
I’ve lost my zip
Feb. 27: bad haiku
His Eyes
his diamond-bright eyes
are giving me gorgeous goose-
bumps when I see them
Love
love is the greatest
power in the universe
it will cure all ills
An Encounter
her dress was yellow
the autumn day was mellow
his eyes smiled hello
Feb. 28: make a ‘generated’ haiku ( from http://www.everypoet.com/haiku/default.htm ) more literary
original:
dreaming plum giggling
tugging bronze unbroken bride
palpitates softly
mine:
plum blossoms
cover her in white ...
soft laughter
**********
asleep
by the bronze statue
her soft breathing
Feb. 29: leap
stray duck in traffic
I pray
for a flying leap
I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')
These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.
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