(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:
(Poem 176 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Beyond the veil of the living
is the plain of the between,
where people linger after death
unable to be seen.
Only those who can’t let go
reside in this murky space,
but each lost soul has a story to tell
if someone can show them grace.
A Ghost Whisperer is sometimes summoned,
a spirit’s only hope,
communing with the voiceless ones
to help the living cope.
For usually, those who remain
feel burdened by an unexplained weight.
No sense can be made of their grief
or their loved ones’ undetermined fate.
If a satisfactory resolution
can be settled upon at last,
the ghost will finally release their hold
and accept that they have passed.
@Home Studio – 176th poem of the year (Inspired by the television show The Ghost Whisperer.)
Hewitt, Jennifer Love, Ghost Whisperer, Sander/Moses, CBS, 2005-2010.
Runner ups for the Ghost Whisperer photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 175 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
“At the level of the ego, we struggle to solve our problems. Spirit sees that struggle is the problem.” – The Way of the Wizard
AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/7XIJKd https://gencraft.ai/p/bhZDFJ
The madman who lived in a
hut deep in Camelot forest
was named Will for a reason.
He claimed to have no king,
despite Arthur ordering him
to come forth and explain.
According to his wife, grief
had walled him up after his
son died in a tragic accident.
The man named Will decided
to perish unless God himself
appeared and made plain
the reason for suffering.
Arthur sat all night speaking
with the man, who he felt
closer to than anyone else
in his kingdom, for he keenly
felt the suffering of his people
the poor, the sick, the burdened.
Arthur shared the wisdom
Merlin taught him, rather than
struggle against evil, realize
that it does not actually exist.
We create heaven and hell
with our own will, invent duality,
evil and good, light and shadow,
chase our tails to our own
detriment and create despair.
We must allow our will to be
free to choose to reject this
duality and permit unity to be
born in our hearts and minds,
rather than sealing ourselves
up in a hut deep in the woods
of grief where we await our deaths.
@Genuine Joe’s – 175th 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.123-128.
Runner ups for the Forest Hut photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 174 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
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:
(Poem 173 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
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
(Poem 172 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
A princess in a fitted gown
floats into the room sparkling
like stars in a dark night sky.
She is the dream vision of
every little girl who imagines
herself someday gracefully
gliding down a cathedral aisle.
The sheer veil ripples elegantly,
falling like light snow in quiet
drifts on her brunette locks.
Gentle turns, angled glances
at her beauty in the mirror,
loveliness draped in silk and lace.
@Home Studio – 172nd poem of the year
Runner ups for the Wedding Dress Event photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 171 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/QTg9tw https://gencraft.ai/p/oBhyHg https://gencraft.ai/p/jQ3tpi
Watermelon, strawberries, red sugar Kool-Aid,
fried catfish, hot links, barbecue, red velvet cake,
hibiscus tea, cornbread, greens, black eye peas,
strawberry shortcake, deviled eggs, mac and cheese,
potato salad, baked beans, strawberry pie,
sweet tea, coleslaw, and anything you can fry.
Families spending time together, off work for the day,
children at the splash pad, squealing as they play,
parades and floats, marching bands, music on blast,
celebration of freedom, remembrance of the past,
honoring the ancestors, lifting up the next generation,
supporting black businesses, praying for the nation.
@Home Studio – 171st poem of the year
Runner ups for the Juneteenth photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 169 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
The conundrum of laundry is constant
with eight people in the house every day.
Someone will forget to clean the dryer vent,
and for that a lecture will come my way.
Some use scents to make their clothing smell nice,
while others prefer unscented and pure.
Three different soaps add up to quite a price,
but it is worth it for peace, I am sure.
Sometimes a person forgets to unload
their washer or dryer causing dismay,
as others in line now find their turn slowed
and possibly pushed to another day.
Eventually, all laundry gets done;
clean clothes is the victory we have won.
@Home Studio – 169th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Laundry photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 167 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Maybe a turtle is in a turtle shell
much the way mice are in fur coats,
eels wear slick high-sheen leather,
and monsters live in skins of goats.
Stubborn dinosaurs wear emu feathers,
and goddess cats are draped in fluff.
Humans must don these hot meat suits,
while armadillos carry armor that’s rough.
Porcupines live inside costumes with spears
to protect like whales with the thickest skin.
It makes me wonder if the being we see
could be different from the soul within.
@Home Studio – 167th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Turtle photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 165 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
My cats have a piano.
They let me play it
once in a while when
I get the notion, but
mostly they sleep and
purr, and stretch on the
multiple flat surfaces
purely built for perching.
@Home Studio – 165th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Cat Piano photos to accompany my poem:
rebekahjmarshall 