Tag Archives: creativity

Poetry, Writing

Book Fairies

Leave a comment

(Poem 280 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/rqq9tW

My book fairies
come out at night
as all book fairies do,
but mine are pesky
little things
nuisances, that’s who.

They steal my things
like coins and rings
and put them who knows where.
They flit around
upsetting the dogs
and giving the cats a scare.

I know the night
is their time to roam
and I shouldn’t begrudge their fun,
but we’re trying to sleep.
We have work tomorrow,
and their revelry’s just begun.

Once in a while
they’ll do something nice
like leave a breakfast for me,
but even then,
they use books as plates
and put fish scales in my tea.

I wish them well,
health and long life
and all those other things,
but I need them to go
inhabit someone else’s shelves
with their constantly flapping wings.

@Home Studio – 280th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Fairies photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Olive Green Yarn

Leave a comment

(Poem 273 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

(Hair stick art display)

I needed a way
to display
my hair sticks
decoratively,
so I measured
and sketched
a design Grandad
could build
with his hands
and his tools
and his can-do
attitude that turns
ideas into art,
like a barn
or a staircase,
a balance beam
or doll furniture,
or a simple
wooden frame
with olive green yarn
stretched taut
between raised metal tacks
and a shiny gold hook
holding fast at the top
to hang my idea
for all the world to see.

@Home Studio – 273rd poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Plasma Blobs

Leave a comment

(Poem 269 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/OvDj2h

Plasma is rare
on earth,
though found
in abundance
everywhere else
in space.
And now scientists
are telling us
that these blobs
that are not solid,
liquid, or gas,
but another state:
communicate,
behave predatorially,
congregate,
interact with satellites,
get the zoomies,
race excitedly
toward thunderstorms,
form crystals—
corkscrew shaped
like DNA,
and may be inorganic
non-biological life
or pre-life,
and we’re supposed
to go on sipping our tea
and paying our bills.

@Home Studio – 269th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Plasma photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Whales in the Sky

Leave a comment

(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

COVID’s curse

Leave a comment

(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:

Poetry, Writing

4am

Leave a comment

(Poem 222 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

 AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/nh6lZj

What is it about 4am
that makes magic drip
onto the page like wax?
The air feels different
when the dogs and sun
still sleep; the dew is
yet to blanket itself
across morning’s back.
There in the stillness of
the pre-dawn quiet,
thoughts have latitude,
and words permit them-
selves both whimsy and
wonder without too much
introspection or gravity.  
It is refreshing to be
acquainted with the
other side of night that
does not lay souls down
for fear they must be kept
but celebrates once again
the uprising of the spirit.

@Home Studio – 222nd poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Inside Out

Leave a comment

(Poem 211 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

https://images.app.goo.gl/pzkbS6c1jv44FYwP9

If Joy and Sadness
go missing,
Anger, Fear, and Disgust
try to
take control.
And no matter how
hard we try to ride
the train of thought
to the solution,
it’s difficult to
escape danger
without sacrificing
little pieces of ourselves.
But the integration
of our most vulnerable
parts strengthens
our core memories
and allows us to reach
out from our islands
to embrace those we love.

@Home Studio – 211th poem of the year (After watching Inside Out with my grandkids and bawling like a baby.)

Docter, Pete. Inside Out. Amy Poehler, Pixar Animation Studios, 19 June 2015.

Poetry, Writing

Lesson 19 The Way of the Wizard

Leave a comment

(Poem 193 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“Look upon desire as the willingness to receive what God wants to give.” – Merlin, The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/N7hzab

The only way to escape perpetual
immaturity is to ache to go beyond
the boundaries we have set for
ourselves as acceptable, normal,
safe, and comfortable in the now.
We must stretch outward through
the discomfort of reaching for what
we do not yet recognize as reality
to grasp ahold of our destiny and
allow desire to materialize again
and again and again until we see
that the direct path to God has
been our longing all along in the
form of wishes and needs we did
not even understand as yearning
for the perfection of pure love.

@Erica’s – 193rd poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp.129-135.

Runner ups for the Arthur crown photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Coffee Cacophony

Leave a comment

(Poem 187 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/a9RJoh

You doin’ ok?
the barista asks someone looking at the menu
You’ve got to be hot because I’m hot
my husband says to me
Unidentifiable ethnic-sounding earth music plays
over the speakers chanting comforting spells
A soprano’s laugh bubbles up above all the other sounds
I’m fine
a tenor responds to someone who asks
My husband whispers or raps or sings to himself
perhaps he is reading out loud, it could be any of the above
because he is rarely silent for long
You’ve lost one of your lenses
a woman says to the elderly man she cares for
I know, he says
does she think he is unaware that he can only half-see?
freeway
I was trying to draw you
spiral
London Fog
to be clear
I think we all know
it’s a reservoir
keep going, Dude
really hammer it home
when I’m on stage
I’m not racist or homophobic
not on purpose
there is a monster
how cute
Chai
Hello
A blender and cups being bussed are the percussive elements that were missing.
Tea-Jasmine
Someone knocks loudly on the restroom door
one-two-three-four in quick succession
and a phone whistles
it just got real

@Genuine Joe’s – 187th poem of the year

Runner ups for the coffee shop photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Echoes of the Future

Leave a comment

(Poem 184 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/rUA3Kt   https://gencraft.ai/p/k2G0lW    https://gencraft.ai/p/UdPZrD

My mother’s voice was
a bit exasperated at the
absence of anyone home.
I did not hear the door
behind her as she left,
but hurried to let her know
I was there and say hello.
I opened the front door;
she was already in her car
but she turned off the engine
when she saw me and
decided to come back in,
or so I thought…
In her reality, she just
arrived, had not yet stepped
foot in the house, had felt
no annoyance at the absence
of anyone and made no sound.
What future echo did I hear
that never even happened?

@Genuine Joe’s – 184th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Echoes photos to accompany my poem: