Sunday, August 31, 2014

Creative Blooming from child and adult's pov


Flying up so high
Toe-tips touch the sky
Clouds laugh at me here below
Stones rush by my toes  
And back the swing goes
Then up in the blue I go

Stand and push the swing
Many songs, I sing
Can’t do a thing on my list
But swing her awhile
And take in her smile
There’s nothing better than this

Saturday, August 30, 2014


Still Dreaming

Still dreaming
Still searching
Still asking questions
as basic as who am I?
Not looking back
on a long list
of accomplishments
like others my age.
Just getting started.
My autobiography
would be more like
a choose-your-own adventure.
Your guess of what happens next

would be as good as mine.

Friday, August 29, 2014

During Vacation

A TV hangs on the motel wall
Enticingly giving its persistent call
But we’ll be down the road
Carrying our load
Going to visit family, one and all

Thursday, August 28, 2014

written on vacation


Travlin’ down the road
till backsides are sore.
All the cars we passed
along with our time.
Patience helps us wait.
Thoughts not worth a dime.
The truck engines sound,
a guttural rhyme.

Counting off the miles.
Red, white, black, gray cars.
Some zip by so fast.
Drivers have their styles.
Munchers sip and eat.
Singers are all smiles.
Bikers like the clime

and don’t mind the grime.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Poetic Asides malfunction and Creative Bloomings lannet

A Conspiracy Theory

It appears when their warranties run out,
appliances unite and make a pact
that in a certain week, at any time,
they will go on strike, fizzle, stall, expire.

Refrigerators warm up, stoves cool down.
Clocks refuse to tick, CD players stick.
Handles will fall off; knobs will quit turning.
Parts will pop, sizzle, smoke, grind to a stop.

All we can do is sigh and be thankful
they served their purpose as long as they did,
and then go buy something new and improved.
Naughty, conniving gadgets might behave

if they knew they would be trashed and replaced,
but merchants and designers grin in glee. 

Tuesday, August 26, 2014


A man in the mood for a sweet
Searched high and low for a treat
But cupboards were bare
And all heard him swear

With words none would dare to repeat

Monday, August 25, 2014


A fellow who loaned out his drill
Discovered it there at Good Will
So right from the rack
He bought the drill back
And then sent his neighbor the bill 

Sunday, August 24, 2014

Creative Bloomings color poem


P urple-blue like the flower
E legant and dainty like a fairy gown
R eminding me of grandma’s eyes
I cy and vibrant
W arm and relaxed
I ndependantly lovely
N ew-song inspiring
K issed by angels
L ovely and delicate
E ndearing, gentle and cheerful

Saturday, August 23, 2014

PA Golden shovel poem

Grace for the Taking

Amazed, puzzled, surprised, no,
just filled with childish wonder,
to know the Mighty One, the
creator of the stars, moon
and sun, the trees, the grass in

fields, the rushing rivers, the
rain drops tapping the window,
the whole world, loves us! It seems
a dazzling dream come true to
understand the gift we have.

It appears we have drifted
into our own schemes far out
of amazing grace, out of
hope, out of peace into a                                                                              
fake and temporary love.

The God, the Man, the Poem
expressed sweet compassion that
wants good things for me and you,
declaring joy to those used
to earning what we’re drawn to.

Shame may divide, but we know
forgiveness was paid for by
the divinely wounded heart.

(From Forgetfulness by Bill Collins)

Friday, August 22, 2014

PA blame it on...

Blame the Cat

I know I’m supposed to be
painting with words,
making music with meter,
providing silky images
or those prodding like a poker,
but my cat chirps for attention,
dancing around my computer,
brushing against me
until at last she nestles on my belly,
purring contentedly,
allowing my fingers
to wiggle out from underneath her,
like little crabs scurrying to the ocean
to write this bit of poem.

Thursday, August 21, 2014

PA Golden Shovel

River Rafting

We drift down the river in rubber rafts, the
currents gently carrying us as we bob along laughing, feeling free
 until the water turns white and we wield our oars like wings of a wounded bird.
Our captain shouts orders, “All ahead! Get it together! Get down!” The raft leaps
ahead and suddenly we’re drifting daintily on. 
Then we hit another rush and abruptly one of ours tumbles out of the
raft. We surge ahead, unable to go back
and get him. Such a helpless feeling. But then folks of
another raft pull him in. Rescued! Then as the
stream steadies, we pull our lost one back in from the other raft. The wind
kicks up, the sky darkens, but what’s a little rain when we’re already wet? We stop and
pull the heavy rafts on the mucky bank. We eat, talk and laugh. No raft floats
further as we take a break. The guide rehearses the signals because downstream
is the big challenge. We can bow out and walk in the woods and wait till
the others make it through the rapids. But we, the adventurers, sally forth. The
water churns, soon we’re in the midst. Violent force tosses two of us into the current.
Our comrades pull us in by our vests. Then more rapids. Victorious! Soon our adventure ends.

(From I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou)

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

PA news, CB monotetra

Come Deliverer

In years past I wondered why
The world watched six million Jews die.
We would stop it, yes, you and I.
At least we’d try, at least we’d try.

Today’s news reads like Stephen King.
To some life doesn’t mean a thing.
We grieve with little hope to cling.
What can we bring? What can we bring?

The landscape’s littered with the dead.
The innocents to deserts fled.
The evil plans fill us with dread.
The cancer’s spread, the cancer’s spread.

Oh, we can’t look the other way—
allow this horror here to stay.
We must stop them now. Today!
Come let us pray, come let us pray.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Poetic Asides based on observation of a person

Out with the Homeless

In a daze, he sits on a curb.
He doesn’t know where he’s from.
Or where he’s going.

A scruffy looking guy approaches.
Dirty, dark complected.

Scruffy guy speaks,
“Hey man, where’s your home?
You shouldn’t be out in the street.”

You should know, he thinks.
“I’m fine.
Just resting.”

And then he remembers.
Ah, the party.
Those pills he took.

He reaches in to his pocket.
A cell phone
He calls home.

Mom’s not going to like this.

Monday, August 18, 2014

PA tough spots


Like opponents grant players
opportunities to shine.
Like difficult courses
showcase golfers’ skills.
Like mountains bring out
strength and endurance of climbers.
Tough spots
manifest magnificence
in you.

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Creative Bloomings fear

Blinded by the Height

A hundred feet up and looking down
It’s not of falling that I fear
But that my glasses will start their slide
Tumble down and disappear

Saturday, August 16, 2014



O utdoors, I breathe in fresh air and exhale my cares.
U nder cottonwoods, my skin delights in shade’s cool caress.
T o-dos can wait. I need this.
S ky speaks with plane rumbles and trails enticing me to travel.
I would like to hike but indoor projects won’t wait that long.
D ancing and whirling about, I promise I’ll come back soon.
E ntering my house, I’m refreshed and ready for work cut out for me.

Friday, August 15, 2014


Devil’s Bridge
They call it Devil’s Bridge, near Sedona
A long hike up dirt roads, red rocks and pines
The beauty, a sad story undermines
A tragedy in wild Arizona
Three adventurous tourists followed signs
They call it Devil’s Bridge, near Sedona
A long hike up dirt roads, red rocks and pines
They rested there beneath sun’s corona
Admiring nature’s majestic designs
One falls, and grandeur and sorrow entwines
They call it Devil’s Bridge, near Sedona
A long hike up dirt roads, red rocks and pines
The beauty, a sad story undermines

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Poetic Asides Upside down

Upside-Down World

We sadly live in an upside down world.
Instead of children playing in the park,
atrocities, and their eyes have gone dark.

Wars rage, the innocent die, insults hurled.
The evil laugh, and kill and leave their mark.
We sadly live in an upside down world,
instead of children playing in the park.

Compared to ISIS, whose black hearts are gnarled,
A. Hitler was a gentleman, a lark.
What has to happen for our ire to spark?
We sadly live in an upside down world.
Instead of children playing in the park
atrocities, and their eyes have gone dark.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

from April PAD chalenge

Since You Left
Since you left, it’s like you died.
But I can’t mourn your passing.
At each turn, I see you there
and I can hear you laughing.
Oh, how I wish you’d come back.
Your clothes hang in the closet.
There’s your fifty pairs of shoes.
The tomatoes are rotting.
I hope they are all I’ll lose.
Oh, how I wish you’d come back.
The words are left unspoken.
For the reason, I still strive.
I have hope for tomorrow.
‘Cause I know you’re still alive.
Oh, how I wish you’d come back.

Monday, August 11, 2014

From April PAD Challenge

Secret Place

Long shadows pass, the night envelops me
My fragile self meets mixed peculiar dreams
My real world shatters like a long-stemmed glass
Thoughts tumble like round stones in countless themes

The night fa├žade blocks out my daily life
A strange unstable refuge, truth in part
The vast array of worlds converge in time
I toss and turn the riddles of my heart

Like delicate rose petals with their scent
A whisper spirit wind breathes soothingly
With love embraces me in gentle sleep
Brings balance to chaotic fantasy

Like treasured rubies in a hidden space
His comfort comes within this secret place

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Creative Bloomings two objects converse

The Grapefruit and the Chocolate Bar

Said the grapefruit to the chocolate bar,
“I don’t admire your position.
You are well liked but you will not go far.
You won’t survive with sweet disposition.
And you consist of little nutrition.
Said the candy to the fruit, “You’re sour!
Your flavor, uninviting and dour.
It’s me, most people would much rather eat.
You’ll live longer, but you’ll lose your power.

It’s better for life to be short and sweet.

From April PAD challenge


Poeming together helps
Poets improve their skills
Plus gives them some special
Poetic company
Poeming is worth the time
Published or just for fun
Poets, keep poeming on

Friday, August 8, 2014

From April PAD challenge

Goodnight, Workaholic

Just call it a day
Cross tasks from your list
Tomorrow, come what may

Undone to-dos on display
Copy what’s been missed
Just call it a day

It’s time to hit the hay
You need rest, so I persist
Tomorrow, come what may

Please, do what I say
Go to bed, I must insist
Just call it a day

Turn off the light without delay
Cease and desist
Tomorrow, come what may

But don’t forget to pray
And make sure your family’s kissed
Just call it a day
Tomorrow, come what may

Thursday, August 7, 2014

From April PAD challenge


I used to dream of being thin
and beautiful, extremely intelligent,
funny, interesting and popular.

I used to dream of a handsome lover,
richer than a king, loving
all the things I love, loving me.

I used to dream of world travel
in a luxury jet, a peaceful world,
and freedom to explore and enjoy.

I used to dream of living a long
and healthy life. Able to perform
unbelievable gymnastics and dance.

But while I’m dreaming I may as well
dream of being young again in a perfect,
eternal world, no sickness or death.

A place where everyone is smart,
beautiful, intelligent, popular, creative
and capable of doing anything they wish.

And a handsome lover for every day of the year.
No need to be rich when everything’s free.
No need for a plane when you can fly.

And I may as well dream
there’s plenty to go around and
there’s nothing to fight about.

Living forever in a place of joy and peace.
Beauty and creativity. Laughter and love.
Dancing and singing. Art and music.

Maybe heaven’s like that.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Creative Bloomings eulogy, Poetic Asides disappointment and madrigal

What Could Have Been

We dreamed of traveling around the world
For all the years of labor we put in
A few more months and then we would begin

We raised our kids, with love, as life unfurled
We, hand in hand, survived through thick and thin
We dreamed of traveling around the world
For all the years of labor we put in

But with your sudden death our dreams were hurled
I’m feeling like a stranger in my skin
And now I think about what could have been
We dreamed of traveling around the world
For all the years of labor we put in
A few more months and then we would begin

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

from April PAD challenge

Let’s Get Real, Not Racist

In art class, my mom’s friend,
of African ancestry, requested Mom,
of Scotch/English descent, to draw her portrait.

Mom did, complete with realistic shading.
Mom’s friend got mad at her,
which confused Mom till the day she died.

A writing teacher told my friend not to describe
her biracial character as having light black skin
and kinky black hair because it was racist.

If a character has light black complexion
and kinky black hair, why couldn’t she say so?
Observation differs from judgment.

Monday, August 4, 2014

From April PAD challenge

Something to Remember

Turmoil, upheaval, unrest—
such is life.
Even in the daily grind,
uncertainties abound.
Like ducks
headed for a waterfall,
I must remember
I can fly,
on the wings
of faith and prayer.

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Creative Bloomings My muse, WD Madrigal form

Like My Cat
My muse is like my crazy Snicker’s cat
At times she’s full of energy and zest
At times she curls up on my lap to rest
Persistent and demanding little brat
A nuisance and a quirky, silly pest
My muse is like my crazy Snicker’s cat
At times she’s full of energy and zest

She comes on her own terms, and that is that
When she is full and fat she’s at her best
She’s beautiful, but often acts possessed
My muse is like my crazy Snickers cat
At times she’s full of energy and zest
At times she curls up on my lap to rest 

Saturday, August 2, 2014

from April PAD challenge

Hot Air Balloons
Hot air balloons stretched out aground
Excited people gather ‘round
The trucks, the fans, the gondolas
The early-morning beelike buzz
Designs and colors do astound
They’re blown with air till full and round
Then stand up tall with glory crowned
And folks board with exuberance
Hot air balloons
Then off they go with dragon sound
They gently float up heaven bound
And ride wind like a feather does
Their journey peaceful as a dove
Then softly settle on the ground
Hot air balloons

Friday, August 1, 2014

from April PAD challenge


R esolute, with tilt of the chin
E ndlessly dogged, thus digging heels in
S tubborn, won’t take no, settled, bullheaded,
O penly adamant, dream embedded
L aughs at antagonism, determined
V erve and vigor, refuses to rescind
E xact and precise, will take no advice