Tag Archives: Health

Poetry, Writing

Uter-Us

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(Poem 190 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/Sa2iIv https://gencraft.ai/p/WKPxbw   https://gencraft.ai/p/pOcgWm

The uterus is a universe
of endometrial enchantment,
a whispering womb,
a reproductive realm,
a cervical sanctuary,
and the cradle of life;
the hormonal harmony
in that pelvic paradise
creates menstrual magic
from the ovarian orbit
and fallopian fantasy that
results in a cycle symphony

…until it becomes something else…

a pelvic painscape
due to hormonal havoc
that creates womb woes
due to cervical crisis,
ovaries who are outraged,
frustrated fallopian tubes,
endometrial eruptions,
menstrual mayhem,
cycles of chaos,
a fertility fiasco,
and the reproductive riot
that brings only destruction.

@Home Studio – 190th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Uterus photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Playing in the Creek

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(Poem 188 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

I remember the sound of cicadas
as we found frogs in the mud on the
banks of the creek we weren’t really
supposed to be playing in because
my father was certain we were going
to somehow drown in the three feet
of water that trickled and pooled
and invited us siren-like to the middle.
I remember pretending to like fishing
because my older cousin Tim was
collecting worms, and I wanted him
to think I was mature for a little girl
and not squeamish at all about the
wriggling, squirming, slippery, slimy
bits that had to be impaled tip to tail.
I remember the grown-ups always
sitting around sipping sweet tea in
the most boring looking way and
doing nothing but talking and eating
and occasionally laughing or yelling
at one of us to shut the door or quit
coming in and out, and I was certain
I would never want to sit around like
them and be boring when I grew up.

@Home Studio – 188th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Creek photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Mother Daughter Breakfast

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(Poem 185 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/t3yLr2

We sit at the barstools and watch
you cook, just like the old days.
Sisters, swinging feet, sipping
tea and coffee, eating Round Rock
donuts, and waiting for a feast.
You’ve made biscuits and gravy,
eggs and bacon, with your honeys
on display in the center of the table.
We chat and laugh and catch up
on the gossip we might have missed.
Hurry, come look, slowly and quietly,
tip toe to the back door, shhhhhhh,
you say, our curiosity peaked.
Just a hot summer Wednesday,
nothing special on the agenda,
but nice, all the same because who
knows how many more hot summer
Wednesdays we get together to eat
our mother’s biscuits and gravy
and stare at a giant baby vulture
fresh from his nursery getting a
drink of water on the back porch.

@Geuine Joe’s – 185th poem of the year

https://images.app.goo.gl/MDNFfvcERDTXzYqWA This is not the actual vulture on my mother’s back porch, but hers looks a bit like this. (There are actually 2 that have hatched this year and are doing well. A vulture couple lays their eggs under her house every year.)
Poetry, Writing

Puffs

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(Poem 182 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

No one has ever felt as
beautiful as a little girl
with fresh-made puffs.

Her frilly pale pink dress
with shiny shoes and high-
on-the-head earmuffs

are absolutely perfect
for a family wedding she
must attend in a while.

Her little brother in shirt
and vest gets to carry rings
as the bearer down the aisle,

but you can’t tell her a thing;
she’s not in the party but  
might as well be the bride,

for the joy she feels looking
like the belle of the ball makes
her little soul swell with pride.

@Home Studio – 182nd poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Grieving Mother – House of the Dragon

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(Poem 180 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/3PTiet  https://gencraft.ai/p/rcoJcL

The mother does what
any mother must do after
receiving the worst news
imaginable; she mounts
her dragon and flies as far
as she must for confirmation
with her own eyes that her
son has been taken from
this world in a vicious attack.
She must reckon with the
knowledge that all could
have been prevented by
her every step of the way,
so she has herself to blame
for her baby ending up in the
belly of the enemy’s beast.
A son for a son will become
the battle cry that brings
only blood to the realm.
Winter is truly coming.

@Home Studio – 180th poem of the year (after watching Season 2, Episode 1 of House of the Dragon)

Condal, Ryan and George R. R. Martin, creators. House of the Dragon. HBO Entertainment and Warner Bros., 2024.

Runner ups for the Grieving Mother photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Overtime

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(Poem 179 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/9ypUMC

Makin’ bacon
workin’ overtime.
So over
having none,
time to
play, dough
to spend,
breathing room,
lack of
lack, more
of plenty,
less of
less, unless
by choice,
space to
be alone
with creativity.

@Home Studio – 179th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Overtime photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Watermelon Sugar

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(Poem 178 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Photographs taken by Charlotte Sullivan & Rebekah Marshall 6/10/24

I love the taste of
my watermelon sugar
straight from the green rind.

@Home Studio – 178th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Watermelon Sugar photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Aches and Pains

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(Poem 177 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/03OiGx  https://gencraft.ai/p/G96GID    https://gencraft.ai/p/BbJsEh

Aches and pains
pains and aches
knees and hips
whatever it takes
hard to bend
walking is tough
getting off the
floor is enough
trying to focus
on a word
when agony strikes
is quite absurd
take deep breaths
slow your heart
please pace yourself
if you’re smart
not enough spoons
too many knives
push too hard
here come hives  
snap pop crack
click rattle break
every slight movement
injury at stake
I would like
to cocoon here
or float in
space a year
to maybe be
from gravity free
that is now
my earnest plea

@Home Studio – 177th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Aches and Pains photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Petting Zoo

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(Poem 174 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Photographs taken by Erica Smith 6/22/24.

Chickens, ducks, cousins, goats,
bunnies, memories, friends, and fun—
a morning spent at a petting zoo
laughing and learning in the sun.

Parents watch and take photographs,
encourage the children to be brave,
pet those babies and give them love;
try to make that little goat behave.

A kid’s a kid, whether goat or child,
ready for frolicking on a summer day.
Each is happy to be with the other,
nothing to do but run around and play.

@Genuine Joe’s – 174th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Petting Zoo photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Hawaiian Thai Fusion

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(Poem 173 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

https://images.app.goo.gl/qJQdb6TJSSUxdzue9

Girls’ luncheon at Cilantro Grill is fabulous, filling,
a lovely time with mother, daughter, granddaughter,
grandmother, great-grandmother, great-granddaughter,
future sister-in-law, daughter-in-law, mother-in-law.

Kalua pork, grilled pineapple, garlic edamame,
butter shrimp, macaroni salad, spam musubi,
tom yum, Pad Thai, basil fried rice, yellow curry,
deep fried red snapper, drunken noodles, tom kha.

@Home Studio – 173rd poem of the year