(Poem 214 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/4OKSME https://gencraft.ai/p/RFjdAL
Expenditures, deposits, interest, receipts,
deductions, strategy, percentage, gains—
fabulous concepts when studied one by one,
but roll them all up into a financial plan sushi,
and the concoction is nauseating…
I might even be allergic.
@Home Studio – 214th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Budgeting photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 213 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Doctor Dear,
Does your mommy know you’re here?
Did she pack you a lunch
and put bows in your hair?
Can you stay here this late,
or do you have a curfew?
Are you allowed to use those shiny tools,
or do you need adult supervision?
You have such a big vocabulary
for such a young lady.
Such gentle care,
Sweet Doctor Dear.
@Home Studio – 213th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Doctor Dear photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 212 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/BsWO3A https://gencraft.ai/p/FYxwx0
Auspicious stone turtles
stand guard, gargoyles of
destiny, good fortune baked
into their shells, assuring the
dwelling longstanding fortune.
The turtles in the pond
fight for bits of mushy carrot,
stale bread, and greens,
unaware of the larger battle
being fought in the sky pond
by Grummans and Warhawks.
The people swim and love,
dream and hope, serve an
emperor or a president who
demands unwavering loyalty,
and wonder when peace will
fill the turtle house again.
@Home Studio – 212th poem of the year (After reading The Turtle House by Amanda Churchill.)
Churchill, Amanda. The Turtle House. Harper Collins, 2024.
Runner ups for the Turtle House photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 211 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
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.
(Poem 210 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/vePvG3 https://gencraft.ai/p/7GAsJs https://gencraft.ai/p/aMGzb5
Kazu Music
discordant at first
too much stimuli
for neurodivergence
to tolerate without
an escape plan
in place
unless love and
patience can
settle and soften
and rebuild a
family in all its
lovely mess.
@Home Studio – 210th poem of the year (After watching Music by Sia with Debbie and Celinda.)
Sia, Music. Kate Hudson, Leslie Odom Jr., Maddie Ziegler, Hanway Films, 14 Jan. 2021.
Runner ups for the Music photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 209 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
One person’s junk is
another person’s treasure,
or so I’ve been told by those
who love garage saling.
Hunting for a steal is
the name of the game;
if you’re brave enough to play,
you might just get hooked.
A hover board for free,
though no way to charge it.
Harry Potter jelly beans,
if you like the taste of vomit.
Bring a wad of cash;
dollar bills are the best.
Don’t be shy about haggling;
your prize will be the experience.
@Home Studio – 209th poem of the year (My granddaughter Queen Charlotte went garage saling with my Great Aunt Eva, who is the real garage sale queen.)
Runner ups for the Garage Sale Queen photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 208 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/PTePZW https://gencraft.ai/p/Q3YLtj https://gencraft.ai/p/6T1PcL
Sitting in the eye of the storm
while the world flies past
outside the windows of this
steel box protective casing,
heart races, sinews solidify
to the point of intense shaking,
and nothing but this fixed point
matters because precious life
rests in that axis and the
breath that was held is finally
released into the stillness that
settles after spinning out.
@Home Studio – 208th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Spinning Out photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 206 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Seasmoke has spoken
without words, choosing
a rider for himself from
the Velaryon lineage.
His Addam is a first
among men in that he
was sought out by the
beast and selected for
the bond, plucked from
the sea of obscurity his
illegitimacy destined.
The gods are as wise as
they are capricious.
@Home Studio – 206th poem of the year (after watching House of the Dragon Season 2 Episode 6.)
Condal, Ryan and George R. R. Martin, creators. House of the Dragon. HBO Entertainment and Warner Bros., 2024.
Runner ups for the Seasmoke photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 205 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
“With the king’s promises…you can feed the mouths of ghosts.” Mrs. Hammer
While the Sea Snake grieves
the Queen Who Never Was,
his granddaughter must lift
his gaze beyond self-pity and
remind him of the duty he owes
his queen who is blood and fire.
While the King Consort slowly
descends into madness amidst
strangers and ghosts at Harrenhal,
memories and regrets haunt
his dreams stealing his peace,
darke magic weakening him.
While the Usurper King lays
melted by dragon fire and pain,
the lowborn people starve and
wale and weep as one because
the gates are barred and the
stores are empty as a dry well.
@Home Studio – 205th poem of the year (after watching House of the Dragon Season 2 Episode 5.)
Condal, Ryan and George R. R. Martin, creators. House of the Dragon. HBO Entertainment and Warner Bros., 2024.
Runner ups for the Episode 5 photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 202 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Oh, where has she gone, Ava dear, Ava dear?
Oh, where has she gone, your sweet mother?
She has left me here alone with the dog and her bone.
Will she come home, or leave me with my brothers?
Oh, where has she gone, Caleb dear, Caleb dear?
Oh, where has she gone, your sweet mother?
She has left me here all day with the cat and games to play.
Will she come home to me, my sister, and my brother?
Oh, where has she gone, Jacob dear, Jacob dear?
Oh, where has she gone, your sweet mother?
She has left me here to starve, so a turkey I must carve.
Will she come home to me, my sister, and my brother?
Oh, where has she gone, Sissy dear, Sissy dear?
Oh, where has she gone, your sweet mother?
She has left me here with them; my prospects are grim.
Will she come home to me, and those others?
Oh, where has she gone, Bear dear, Bear dear?
Oh, where has she gone, your sweet mother?
She has left me here with Lou; now I think I have the flu.
Will she come home, please, so I can recover?
@Home Studio – 202nd poem of the year
Runner ups for the Missing Mother photos to accompany my poem:
rebekahjmarshall 