Category Archives: power

“AND SOMETIMES I WEAR A CAPE.” – PROMPT #49

This week, we use prompt superpowers to summon a quote from mike Maher.: “And sometimes I wear a cape.” Wouldn’t we all love to have a superhero cape in our closet, for use whenever we had the need? Where would your energy be funneled if you indeed wore a cape? Head for the nearest telephone booth, don your cape, and meet us here with your super poem.

MARIE ELENA’S STAB:
A WOMAN’S PREROGATIVE

Once in the super hero store,
I chose a cape and tights (size 4).
The clerk was rude
She did allude

To my being obese.

She asked how I will use
These powers that I choose
Said I, on cue,
“To squeeze in to
These tights.  And for world peace.”

MY WALTER EGO:

LOVE IS MY KRYPTONITE

Love weakens my knees,
and my head gets light,
those bullets won’t bounce
in a raucous knife fight,

My tights get torn
and I can’t seem to fly
when the love bug strikes
I’m just a regular guy.

My x-ray eyes blur and
I just can’t see a thing
thanks to this
romantic fling.

I guess I’ll remain just a “paper” boy,
you’ve hit me with love…a dirty ploy!


BEAUTIFUL BLOOMS – PROMPT # 11

This week’s reversal of fortune presented many varied views and poems. And again we are reaching new contributors to our fine corral of poets. You are all stars that make this a glowing place to bloom. Speaking of “Blooms”, it is time once again for our Beautiful Blooms selections.

Here is Marie’s “pick” for this week:

I want to begin by saying how thrilled Walt and I are with the new talent on display here! One VERY fine example is Dyson McIllwain, whose piece I picked for this week’s Beautiful Bloom. Yes, I invited Dyson to please check out our site and consider contributing his poetry. And now you know why.

I also must admit that I had to look up “neeps and tatties,” “dram,” and “haggis!” Learned something new. What fun!

I chose Dyson’s poem for the flawless flow, rhyme, humor, and innovation. Thank you for joining in the fun, Dyson! I hope to hear more from you here, as well as Poetic Asides.

CHANGE OF ADDRESS (with apologies to Burns) By Dyson McIllwain

Neeps and tatties, neeps and tatties,
a dram, and a dram, and a dram.
The foulest tasting haggis
’tis too much for any man. I have had
my fill and lost the thrill;
’tis certainly a waste, there is not
enough whiskey to kill this haggis taste.

To kill this haggis taste, one surely must be tested,
To not partake is no mistake, your taste buds will be bested.
As for this man, forgive me clan, my solution’s not absurd,
the golden archway beckons me, over 30 billion served.

Walt’s Bloom:

I know the pros and cons of putting her on a pedestal. The adulation is fine for a while, but has a way of stealing her smile. I found that partners are better when side-by-side and eye-to-eye. Michael Grove’s poem, Up on a Pedestal, invoked memories of two such instances and the different result of each. For that, I place Michael on the lofty perch reserved for this week’s Beautiful Bloom.

UP ON A PEDESTAL by Michael Grove

A hungry tiger without a meal.
The messenger missed the call.
A vision lost was once so real.
He places her up on a pedestal.

He places her up on a pedestal.
Her head now has his heart to steal.
The purple curtain shall tear and fall.
An ivory platform to cold to feel.

An ivory platform to cold to feel.
The juggler drops his bowling pin.
A peasant’s begging for a meal.
A joyful song can now begin.

A joyful song can now begin.
The mystic breaks her crystal ball.
The bird of paradise flies in.
He places her up on a pedestal.


RHYTHM OF THE FALLING RAIN – PROMPT # 2

And so our garden is started. “Seeds” of varied types and sentiments have been sown randomly from our fertile minds. A good start for our new adventure. But, now that the dirty work is done we’ll need to water our garden.

Water in its gentility possesses great power. It has healing capabilities, but can also be destructive in nature, as seen recently with the tsunamis in Japan. Write a water poem. It could be the rains of Spring, a lake or ocean, a toddler’s wading pool, even melting ice as a form of water; as long as it’s wet and you can express it, write it.

Marie Elena’s example:

CRY ME A RIVER
(Or, Graduate Student’s Lament)

Determination: diluted.
Social life: evaporated
Spirits: dampened.

Life is but a mist.
A mere drop in the bucket.

Then Graduate School
rained on his parade.

Pour soul.
I drought he knew
how swamped he would be,
nor how utterly drained
his pockets.

But,
that’s water under the bridge.

His assets, now liquid,
it’s full steam ahead.

Walt’s example:

UMBRELLA SMILES

The
sun peeks judiciously,
almost suspiciously from behind
darkened clouds. The loud crack of
thunder’s fury hurries through on winds of
change. The day is not a wash. You quash the blahs
 with          the              sing          le up               turn
of a
 st-
iff
up-
 per
lip,
Eve-
 ry
last
drip 
                                                                           is           defl-
                                                                          ect          ed.
                                                                          The        joy
                                                                           is re-    flect-
                                                                             ed in your
                                                                                 smile

***

Being Mother’s Day, we’re throwing up a wild card prompt as well. You can also post Mother’s Day poems.


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