Category Archives: Poetry

Poetry, Writing

Skinny Liver

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(Poem 255 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

https://images.app.goo.gl/RwwLHcQb6mTPEofY9

The ultrasound test today
was unpleasant and long,
as the technician dug into
my rib cage to search for
my liver, pancreas, spleen,
kidneys, and gallbladder,
along with some arteries.
Apparently, they were hard
to find due to my habitus,
which is a medical way to
point out just how fat I am.
Fatty infiltration, adipose
fat, and overlying bowel gas
are just more ways of saying
I’m too fat and full of hot air.
Ef’ you and yo’ mama with
your skinny little perfect livers.

@Home Studio – 255th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Painted Skin

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(Poem 254 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/GQuc0J

Jenni married an Indian man,
painted her white skin brown,
and adopted a Hindi accent.
She wore a simple cotton sari
as though it was a ball gown
and dispensed sage advice
with smooth tilts of the head,
as though born in Mumbai.

@Home Studio – 254th poem of the year (After a dream I had about a white friend of mine completely appropriating Indian culture.)

Runner ups for the Indian Jenni photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Are You the One

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(Poem 253 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

https://images.app.goo.gl/D8mQyByKnUymKRD97

Bandits and warriors,
dukes and commoners,
servants and generals,
guilds and entrepreneurs
all managing to thrive and
survive amidst less than
ideal circumstances.

Little does anyone suspect
that a bodyguard in male
garment could actually be
a woman equipped to
both protect and transport
with confidence and success.

Neither does anyone believe
that a modest, unassuming
girl, who is not the most
beautiful in the land, deserves
to be revered for her patience
and intelligent approach to life.

One is a business woman,
a free thinker, every bit as
capable as any man she
meets, a martial artist, a
wife, a loving granddaughter,
a faithful supporter of those
who care for the needs of
the people—Princess.

The other is an undervalued
girl who is mistreated by
her family, disrespected
by her sisters, seen as a
pawn by her father, but
who loves fiercely, holds
fast to kindness and hope,
and persists by the side of
the emperor with a gentle
unmatched grace that lifts
her to her rightful place
with honor—Empress.

@Home Studio – 253rd poem of the year (After watching the Chinese Drama Are You the One)

Liu Guo Nan, Cong Xiao, Are You the One. Wang Chu Ran, Zhang Wan Yi, Jaywalk Media, 12 Aug. 2024.

https://images.app.goo.gl/F1JU76w4G6PGdpxs7

Poetry, Writing

Whales in the Sky

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(Poem 252 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/YfTkjY

Last night I saw a giant humpback
whale swimming in the sky, diving
deep through the air water to the
ocean floor land where I stood in
awe of its graceful power that both
terrified me and kept me rooted in
place admiring its beauty and grace.

@Home Studio – 252nd poem of the year

Runner ups for the Whales in the Sky photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Our Blooming Youth

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(Poem 251 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“Confucius told his disciple Tsze-kung that three things are needed for government: Weapons, food, and trust. If a ruler can’t hold on to all three, he should give up the weapons first, and the food next. Trust should be guarded to the end: without trust we cannot stand.” – Baroness Onora O’Neill

https://images.app.goo.gl/2e3cEvwWiB9oASsKA

Ghosts casting curses, hiding
behind every false smile of those
who claim to be loyal, will poison
trust and hope until all faith dies.

The only way to prove innocence
is to leap into the arms of fear,
give yourself permission to endeavor,
and outsmart evil with persistence.

The truth will win out when you
refuse to give in to the superstition
that strives to steal your joy with
lies that discriminate and demean.

Only by lifting up the oppressed
who cry out for mercy and plead
to be vindicated by righteousness,
can you free yourself from the curse.

@Home Studio – 251st poem of the year (After watching the Korean drama Our Blooming Youth.)

Lee Jong-jae, Our Blooming Youth. Park Hyung-sik, Jeon So-nee, Story & Pictures Media, 6 Feb.—11 Apr. 2023.

O’Neill, Baroness Onora, “Without Trust We Cannot Stand (Excerpts from the Reith Lectures, 2002)” University of Cambridge, Trust & Technology Initiative, http://www.trusttech.cam.ac.uk/perspectives/technology-humanity-society-democracy/without-trust-we-cannot-stand

https://images.app.goo.gl/oXUM9NrWR3TMvMuy6

Poetry, Writing

The Red Sleeve

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(Poem 250 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

https://images.app.goo.gl/AEKne1LC2D85dgqV6

In times long ago in the
Joseon era, all the maidens
who belonged to the King
wore red cuffs on their sleeves.

To be raised in the palace or
brought in by virtue of family
connections, proof of talent,
or as a favor, meant honor.

It was a privilege to empty the
bedpans of royalty, endure the
abuse of the upper class, serve
the needs of those of higher rank.

And if chosen as a concubine,
she should feel grateful that
her body, her mind, her virtue,
and her life will never be her own.

@Home Studio – 250th poem of the year (After watching the Korean drama The Red Sleeve.)

Jung Ji-in, The Red Sleeve. Lee Jun-ho, Lee Se-young, Kang Hoon, WeMad, Npio Entertainment, 12 Nov. 2021—1 Jan. 2022.

Poetry, Writing

My Dearest

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(Poem 249 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

(At the beginning of the series.) https://images.app.goo.gl/TBVDoMZHe5YgNMwK7  https://images.app.goo.gl/dUFyreACvk9uV5Qo7

She’s selfish and high maintenance,
flirtatious, rude, and self-centered.
Her vanity is unmatched, and her
intentions immature and materialistic.

He is a womanizer, intent on remaining
unmarried and able to sow his wild oats.
His loyalty is only to himself and wealth,
and never becoming burdened by love.

With time and travail, the realities of
war, loss, separation, and the ordeal
of survival, she grows into a woman
of substance, and he, an honorable man.

@Home Studio – 249th poem of the year (After watching the Korean drama My Dearest.)

Kim Seong-yong, My Dearest. Namkoong Min, Ahn Eun-jin, MBC, 9ato Entertainment, 4 Aug–-18 Nov 2023.

(At the end of the series.) https://images.app.goo.gl/bdmUkA2SMwYtvapu7 https://images.app.goo.gl/NsNfnaKYvrEqAzJs5

Poetry, Writing

Losing Beauty

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(Poem 248 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Beauty & Aiko in all their regal gorgeousness. They know they rule the kingdom.

To be without Beauty
feels plain and bare,
lacking in something.
A presence at once
regal and understated
has gone missing, and
in its place is an ache,
a pang, maybe a twinge
of listless longing for
some undefined touch
of elegance that is both
gracious and aloof,
familiar and unknowable.

@Home Studio – 248th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Losing Beauty photos to accompany my poem:

1
2
3
4
5

1. Beauty & Kage on guard duty.
2. Chika, Beauty, & Cotton Eyed Joe snuggling.
3. Beauty & Chika sharing my chair.
4. Beauty holding hands with Kenji.
5. The last picture I ever took of Beauty—Beauty & Aiko holding hands. 

Poetry, Writing

Making the Call

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(Poem 247 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/l27VBQ

Making the call to end a life
weighs heavily on the spirit,
even if the conclusion is an
act of mercy for the beloved
by relieving pain and suffering.
Only those who have spent
years with another in close
proximity, shared their lives
intimately, and were tasked
with taking the initiative to
usher in the end know the
reluctance with which the
decision is made and how
heavy the heart to speak the
truth that life has become a
burden rather than a blessing.

@Home Studio – 247th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Making the Call photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

COVID’s curse

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(Poem 246 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/zxz2Lt

COVID’s curse is that it lingers,
hangs menacingly in the air, and
recapitulates its previous threats
with symptomatic diminishment.
Not as serious, less deadly, return
to work after only five days now,
means everyone shares the virus
and those concerned are viewed
as disproportionately cautious.
Do they remember the terror so
recently fresh to those whose
cats lost their owners and children
lost their grandmothers and we
lamented the death counts daily?
This time when my husband got
sick and I could not touch him
for a week, I still checked to make
sure he was breathing and sheltered
in place and social distanced,
though no one uses that language
these days anymore…so 2020 of me.
Perhaps it is the lack of the sense
of smell that was stolen from me
or the worsened sense of vision
that was purloined or the lessened
oxygenation ability that was pilfered
or possibly the energy I once had
to function all day that was looted
after my fourth run-in with the
offender who is nothing more than
an unwelcome, tiresome loiterer.

@Home Studio – 246th poem of the year

Runner ups for the COVID photos to accompany my poem: