my sweet cat gets her fill of kibble
crunchy treats and other nibbles
a plate of wet food every night
chicken pâté, I treat her right
feathery fluffs, catnip-infused
pillow bedding, that’s rarely used
because when it is time for bed
a feline monster rears its head
clearly, she is on the prowl
with hissing shrieks, ungodly howls
then silence, and I hear a squeak,
a tortured mouse drops at my feet
my cat, my pampered fury friend
to blame for its untimely end
wide-eyed, she and I hold court,
so innocent, she kills for sport
For NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 16. Prompt: write a poem that prominently features the idea of play. It could be a poem about a sport or game, a poem about people who play (or are playing a game), or even a poem in the form of the rules for a sport or game that you’ve just made up (sort of like Calvinball).
rarely do I remember my dreams
but if I did I’d imagine this…
while passing time at a wobbly table
sipping green tea from a ballet slipper
my dentist passed by in a floating rowboat
with hammerhead sharks in swift pursuit
I didn’t think it odd at all…that’s odd
that they were flying over head
as seagulls swam around in pools
nipping the teacups that covered my toes
it’s only my imagination
there is no interpretation
a made up, wild dream, just for fun
using the prompt words one by one
don’t bother wondering what it means
rarely do I remember my dreams
that’s probably a very good thing
A bit more craziness for NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 14. Still trying to unplug from a crazy long week. The prompt for today: Choose one (or more) of the following words, and write about what it means to dream of these things: Teacup, Hammer, Seagull, Ballet slipper, Shark, Wobbly table, Dentist, Rowboat.
As you saw, I chose them all. No this is not a true recollection. My dreams, the ones I remember lately, have been a bit strange. I think I need a vacation! 😜
breathing is overrated
when beautiful wild flowers
blossom and fresh spring
scents sweeten the
breeze…I wither while
Magnetic Poetry – Nature Kit
Photo from Pinterest
The Battle is Real – A Cleave Poem (see below for instructions on reading a Cleave*)
you know you want to / oh, I really shouldn’t
no one will notice / but it’s my favorite
just go for it while no one’s looking / of course I can’t; I won’t
you know what they say / the guilt would kill me
better to ask for forgiveness / all it would take is one look at my face
than beg for permission / and they’d know it was me
so go ahead / just walk away from the table
take that last cookie / you don’t need the calories
it’s calling your name / let someone else
savor every sweet bite / eat the last cookie
somebody has to / you have manners after all
might as well be you / there is reward in doing the right thing
For Day 2 of NaPoWriMo 2018’s Challenge. Prompt: write a poem that plays with voice.
This is an example the battle that happens inside my head between “good me” and “naughty me”. I thought a cleave poem would be the perfect format.
*Read it top to bottom three times, column one first, then column two, and finally the entire line across.
Photo by ninocare at pixabay.com
Ode to a Few Books
There is nothing quite like a book,
hardback, leather or paperbound,
piled high wherever I look,
authors obscure and some, renowned.
Words on fine parchment, glossy, matte,
dog-eared pages to keep my place;
a cup of tea, a purring cat,
a book or two’s, my happy place.
Cases filled to overflowing,
floor to ceiling and wall to wall,
my collection’s ever-growing;
I need more shelves to store them all.
I’ve been told it’s an addiction.
The “h” word, hoarder, has been used.
Tomes of poetry and fiction,
my only vice should be excused.
Every volume is a treasure.
I can’t part with a single one.
Spare me this incessant pressure,
bury them with me when I’m gone!
Day 1 of NaPoWriMo 2018’s Challenge. Prompt: To write a poem that is based on a secret shame or a secret pleasure.