This is the direct link to my webpage at Outskirts.com with the ordering information for my first novel, ‘Real Magic’.
“Project A to Z”
“A is for Annoying”
the toilet seat
toothpaste squeezing
dishes piled up
oh yes snoring
remote surfing
chore slacking
nose picking
no good
couch potato
“B is for Bad”
bad seed
bad day
bad boys
bad times
bad ass
bad hair
“C is for Cute”
I hate being cute
cute is for puppy dogs
and flowers
cute is for hearts
for kindergarten teachers
I want to be called
mysterious
exotic
dangerous
being cute sucks
“D is for Depression”
it’s called the blues
not the music
but the soul
crushing despair
despair that grabs hold
and lingers
like a fungus
that grows on the tiles
in the bathroom of hell
you try bleach
you try scrubbing
til your fingers bleed
but it keeps
coming
back
over and over again
it’s called the blues
“E is for Erotic”
a look
a look of promise
lick of the lips
finger beckons
strip
slowly
dance
move your hips
scent of arousal
soft skin
rasping tongue
clenching sheets
panting breath
yes, yes
ohhhhhhh!
“F is for Friends”
we meet for coffee once a week
she and I go back a ways
talk of children and husbands
laugh which one’s worse
advice we share
hopes and dreams
where they went
do you remember so and so
wonder what happened
they seemed so happy
I guess you never know
about friends
“G is for Guilt”
I told you
should’ve listened to your mother
but did you
no, suddenly I’m no good
I know nothing
after all I’ve done for you
the pain of birth
the sacrifices
what thanks do I get
you go out and buy
name brand
peanut butter
“H is for Hope”
holding hands we wait
nervous smiles
sweaty palms
well doctor
congratulations
it’s a boy
“I is for Indulgence”
such an indolent word
represents sloth
and gluttony
and greed
sinful
oh well
pass the ice cream
and hot fudge
will you
“J is for Joy”
children laughing
a choir singing
lovers holding hands
“K is for Kiss”
chocolate kiss
kissing cousins
kiss my ass
kiss off
a kiss to build a dream on
soft lips
taste of mint
of passion
“L is for Love”
who hasn’t written of love
the perils and dangers
of falling in love
it’s just a chemical
attraction that is
the urge to mate
is strictly biological
an impulse that overrides
that blurs common sense
but he/she’s the one
the only
until the end of time
or at least
until the sun comes up
“M is for Money”
how many times have I told you
I’m not made of credit cards
checks don’t grow on trees
I work hard for this mutual fund
bonds can’t buy happiness
online banking isn’t everything
a fool and his 401K are soon parted
“N is for Nice”
did you see the police
they were over here digging
tearing down walls
ripping up the floor
I guess they found her
what a shame
he was such
a nice boy
“O is for Over”
gleaming scissors
careful pruning
judicious snipping
album after album
cutting out of my life
low down dirty skunk
you are so over
“P is for Prejudice”
you want to judge me
my skin makes you nervous
what about my clothes
yes I have piercings
so I don’t look sick
what’s it to you
how I pray
the car I drive
the food I eat
where I shop
look in the mirror first
“Q is for Quiet”
nursing a child
the sunrise
smiling we touch
“R is for Rage”
you’re late
I told you what would happen
get over here
you stupid brat
“S if for Secret”
I have a secret
he told me not to tell
“T is for Truth”
the truth is
that I like to eat
food is good
late at night
pickles
and chocolate
I’m eating for two
“U is for Us”
the word us
is tribal
us versus them
them that are dangerous
us that are good
us that are righteous
“V is for Virile”
the hopes of a nation
the dreams of our culture
the very future
of our society
rests in the little pills
“W is for Winning”
there is only one winner after all
the rest of you are losers
runners up
second best
always the bridesmaid
so get over it
you’ll never win
“X is for Xenophobia”
not that this word
means anything in today’s world
a world of hope
and peace
and love
compassion for others
a helping hand
oh
I’m so sorry
you’re not like me
after all
are you
“Y is for Youth”
news flash
the fountain of youth
has been discovered
three easy payments
of $19.95
plus
shipping and handling
call now
we’ll double your order
“Z is for Zany”
if you have read this far
you qualify!
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silly me I never thought
what this word would have wrought
to see such bloggers in dire straights
makes a bunny paws and heasitate
but never mind I’ll hop along
for poetry is like a song
some are ballads sound so sweet
others thump in metal beat
brings to mind hard rock n’ roll
while winking lines are so droll
althought I may seem so organized
a guest of Dawg’s is so prized
my gift may seem heaven sent
I completely forgot to leave a comment.
at Waking Ambrose guest post
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“G is for Guest”
at this lovely lodge
has been many a guest
quite the hodge-podge
but that’s for the best
rocking on the porch
defining the word
dazzling wit does scorch
theater of the absurd
refreshments over there
music blares on stage
sigh a loving pair
wisdom from the sage
perhaps in all our glory
we’ve become complacent
wishing to tell our story
forgot to pay the rent.
Waking Ambrose
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Poet N: A shill, a barker of the digital airwaves, offering an empty promise while begging for your votes and money.
Poetry N: A cynical script of the dream, two words offering a paradise that resonates in our souls. If only….
“If Only…”
click, click, the images pass by
earnest voices selling perfection
glittering jewels fantastic colors
rippled muscles gyrating dancers
newest carnage solemn visage
past wars only memories
raining somewhere storms swirl
impossible contests fading glory
flashing lights crashing cars
trauma and blood offering grief
this machine will keep the weight off
black and white anonymous faces
the latest bed swapping affairs
local firehouse pancake breakfast
has anyone seen this child
mansion of stone within reach
sell and buy you need this book
drugs an outrage arrest them all
cheering crowds uniformed heroes
pass, shoot, score life is grand
without leather seats no point
insert card cash dispensed
look this way pout for the lens
another scandal missing funds
how late is drive through open
there is a pill for whatever ails you
wave the flag don’t ask questions
“Wave the Flag”
in times of trouble
wave the flag
when interest wanes
wave the flag
when prices rise
wave the flag
when cracks appear
wave the flag
when fights break out
wave the flag
when business fails
wave the flag
when hunger strikes
wave the flag
when help arrives
wave the flag
can’t make decisions
then wave the flag
This post was inspired by my guest showing on Waking Ambrose. I had figured he would give me a word that revolved around poetry, so these were my first two tries.
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These are the daily word prompts provided by the fine poets at Poetry Thursday for Poetry Month, April 2007.
absolve, spiral, perennial, yield, broken thread, unspoken, kneel, leather, at first blush, hollow, breathless, celluloid, bluff, plunge, pearl, hunger, glass, tick tock, root, fishing hole, ten items or less, misplaced, pluck, sheen, blaze, glimpse
“A is for Absolve”
Guilt is a wonderful thing
Causes babies to have homes
And wars to start
Flowers in bunches
And shiny new toys
Guilt is a wonderful thing
But I absolve you of your words
It’s time to move on.
“S is for Spiral”
Over here Stelios!
What is it Alexia?
Look at this pretty shell.
It’s not straight, is it?
No, it’s sort of curved.
What’s it called I wonder?
I don’t know; listen!
This is really special,
It’s got the sea trapped inside.
I know, I wonder if
Poseidon lives here?
That must very neat.
What is?
To live in a Spiral Palace.
“P is for Perennial”
Neat rows of stone
Linger under the
Golden trees
Fading green grass
Littered with umber
leaves.
Neat rows of black
Gather under the
Canvas tent
Drying somber faces
Reaching with strong
arms.
That’s right, she did.
She loved lilies cause
they was perennials.
“Y is for Yield”
Soft candlelight flickers, romantic music swelling in the background that mimics the throbbing surf. Eyes pulled inward, dancing a minuet of seduction. Slow movements, anticipating frantic joy soon to be consummated. Peeling off the layers, revealing soft yielding flesh. “Don’t you just love bananas?”
“B is for Broken Thread”
They called him crazy,
as in crazy old man.
He slept nights in the park,
covered with yesterday’s news.
His tattered coat had brass buttons,
held on by dingy broken thread…
“U is for Unspoken”
A smile for a lover
A nipple for a baby
A tear for a death
A laugh for a friend
A hug for a child
These are a few things best unspoken.
“K is for Kneel”
Such a loaded word
So many meanings
Before you
with joy
I kneel.
“L is for Leather”
It pinches our feet
It binds our wrists
It drapes our shoulders
It covers our eyes
It wraps our legs
It reddens our cheeks
It is soft,
supple,
sensuous,
leather.
“A is for At First Blush”
At first blush,
The birds hold their beaks shut.
Cooled air pauses in thought.
Pale light chases the
rods and cones.
Clouds of vapor coalesce,
puzzled; who are you?
I am a mirror;
that reflects your hopes,
and all the dark wrinkles
in the fabric that is your loom.
At first blush then,
Your impressions are all wrong.
Will you ever
Get a second chance?
“H is for Hollow”
What is an echo called? The kind
you hear when the soul cries out.
A cry that bounces and rattles off the
walls; walls built and maintained at all
costs.
A cry that gathers strength and power, smashing
through windows, crushing the innocent,
trampling the garden, sowing the salt.
What is an echo called when it reverberates
in the dead zone inside, the
place where dreams fade, the
place where hope is lost, the
place where fear wraps it’s talons
and dispassionately squeezes your
humanity through the tube of indifference.The
place where survival of self
equates
to being
that hollow tube.
“B is for Breathless”
her soul shines out loud
tactile touch wraps my body
pant I am breathless
“C is for Celluloid”
The dance of the elephants
in the parking lot
Revving engines
slamming doors
laughing school children
So many, so huge
roam the suburban
highways
what was once
only a safari vehicle
on celluloid.
“B is for Bluff”
Chicken, chicken!
Come on baby, ya
scared. My little sister
could do this. Chicken!
*BANG*
Anthony Martin was put to rest today. Criminal
charges may be filed against three juveniles, ages,
nine, 10 and 12 in the shooting death of Anthony.
Witnesses state that his last words were,
“Don’t call my bluff.”
“P is for Plunge”
Foot tapping, snappy beat
Hands wrapped, frothy mug
Silky voice, ancient notes
Eyes slide, telling smile
Thoughts form, deep gasp
Ask her out, take the plunge.
“P is for Pearl”
Raised voices, walls
muffle thuds
Plaster drifts in
lazy spirals
Worried frowns, shrug
and turn the music up
Next day, we meet out
front
Wry smile, she didn’t
like the string of pearls.
“H is for Hunger”
I burn
I yearn
The more I learn
Must be stern
Adjourn
Spurn
Turn… away
This need
to feed
to seed
to proceed
The more I concede
Must misleed
Indeed
I hunger to breed.
“G is for Glass”
Turmoil and destruction
Violent eruption
Black glass.
“T is for Tick Tock”
Jump the sock
And throw the flock
Swim the rock
And hop the frock
Skip the block
And pass the knock
Fall the crock
And go
Tick
Tock.
“R is for Root”
Hard work it is
Constant digging
and pulling
Finish one patch
Over there
Start another
Sometimes easy
Mostly hard
Deeper and deeper
No matter how
Often you clean
The stain is still there
Why am I like this
It keeps sliding away
The root of my fears.
“F is for Fishing Hole”
There’s a rock, a
slab really, placed there
by hands of ice
eons ago.
It’s worn, rough
and smooth, warm
and chilled, glints
of mica.
Reeds sway, protecting
melodic chirps in
simple refrain, both
remembered.
Vapor waves in still
dawning air, soft
plops of fins
and wings.
Through eyes of youth, I
gaze, my hands, now
gnarled and pained, grasp
bamboo and pail.
I whisper softly, I’m
home my friends; did you miss
me here? At the ol
fishing hole?
“T is for Ten Items of Less”
I don’t believe this! How
many times
does
this
have
to
happen?
Why can’t you
read?
You agreed to
ten items or
less
at the
divorce hearing!
“M is for Misplaced”
fumbling-in the room
made bright-neon
unfamiliar-body
warmth-covers me
I wake-her
excuse-me
seem-to have
misplaced-my life.
“P is for Pluck”
Light-fingered Bugwit
that was his name, or
at least for
an orphan
a ticket to the game.
Life on the streets
can really suck, or
if you’re
fairly nimble
plump purses to pluck.
“S is for Sheen”
she’d adored
from afar
undefined
secret longings
unclothed and rippled
chest
today, she
gazed
enraptured
by his golden hair
immoral, impure
papa would give me
such a whipping
you’re a wicked girl
his sculpted arms with
sheen of sweat
musk filled her
innocent lips
I wonder what he tastes like
as her body
told her mind
to go
away
“B is for Blaze”
No sound
muffled weapons
the warriors
crept
along the trail
grim smile
there
on the oak tree
was the
clan’s blaze.
“G is for Glimpse”
You’re driving
or flying
moving somehow
pictures flash by
all blurry
for now
But the scene’s
moving too
so what does it see
a face, of
you
merely a glimpse.
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