Tag Archives: love

Poetry, Writing

My Cat and I Had a Little Talk

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(Poem 137 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Photograph taken by Rebekah J Marshall

My cat and I had a little talk
before she went into surgery.
I was warned by the vet that
this could be the end for Beauty.

Her heart is now much weaker,
not as strong as it once was.
Removing the growths on her
chest might need to be put on pause.

But my sweet girl is miserable,
I can tell because I know her well.
She needs help, comfort, relief,
my poor lovely, gentle belle.

I told her she’s been so strong,
served as my constant friend.
It’s time for her to rest for now;
let her body have time to mend.

@Home Studio – 137th poem of the year

(Update – She made it through the surgery and is doing ok.)

Poetry, Writing

My Husband Gifted me a Forest

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(Poem 136 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Photograph taken by David Marshall 5/7/24

My husband gifted me a forest
and a clearing of pale blue sky.
I keep it nestled in my cell phone
to comfort me any time I cry.

He knows I love tall evergreens
and can hide there in the woods,
take refuge from the scary world,
forget all the coulds and shoulds.

When the leaves begin to rustle
and whisper their daytime thoughts,
they ease my troublesome worries
and smooth out all my gnarled knots.  

The few seconds of rest I find
in this tranquil space of peace
soothe my soul, calm my nerves,
and help my anxieties cease.  

@Home Studio – 136th poem of the year



Poetry, Writing

The Many Faces of Julian

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(Poem 134 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Photos taken by Rebekah Marshall 5/2/24

There’s nothing better than
candid shots of a 5-year-old.
The sublime modeling poses
inspire joy – pure silliness gold.

Everyone else might smile or
throw awkward peace signs.
Not a 5-year-old, oh no, their
forced presence turns to whines.

And if you know what’s good
for you, you’ll let them leave
because if you think you’ll get
good pics, you are really naïve.  

@Home Studio – 134th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

You are an Audio Book

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(Poem 133 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/4TW5sw

You are not the kind of book with
a slick jacket I can collect on my shelf;
nor can I mark my place with sticky notes,
gum wrappers,
or old receipts.

You are an audio book with raucous
laughter, one-liner quips of witty dialogue,
random philosophical musings about religion,
and societies
latest great failings.

Sometimes I need to slow the playback
speed and crank up the volume to discern
the subtle nuances of your narration and tune
my ear to
your frequency.

Other times I realize you’re on full
blast in the middle of a raunchy scene in
public rather than coming through my headphones
like a
gentleman.

@Home Studio – 133rd poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Beaver Nuggets

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(Poem 132 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

https://images.app.goo.gl/RTg8GzH1tyoPR3gW7
https://images.app.goo.gl/iVnZU7zuTRAAe4SMA

When my husband stops at Bucee’s
on road trips, he always brings me
home Beaver Nuggets, the sea-salted
caramel kind that I love so much.
I have told him many times not to
get them for me because they are
too fattening, but he knows better
than to listen to me when I say silly
things like that and buys them anyway.
Come to think of it, I’m shaped a bit like
Bucee the fluffy beaver, so I wonder if
his stuffing is beaver nuggets like mine.

@Home Studio – 132nd poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Bath Salts

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(Poem 131 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

My granddaughter left a gift
of lavender bath salts for me
on my desk with a sweet little
message written in half cursive
half print on a sticky note.
She left one for her DāDā,
and probably everyone else
in the house as well, because
she loves to leave treats for
others when she finds a way.
I am glad my prickly, lovely,
argumentative, emotional,
explosive, beautiful, forgetful
girl has a heart full of love.

@Home Studio – 131st poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

War

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(Poem 130 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/0yYZ6p
AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/C9Llca

“Vengeance is mine,” sayeth Ceasar, until his
apemanity kicks in and he is able to be better
than human and allow mercy to unfold naturally.
Who gets to determine the value of a life on
this rock hurtling through space we call home?
Does intellect trump simple existence or one
form of communication imply worth over another?
Is birdsong less a language than human speech
or an elephant’s rumble less valid than words?
Someone I know once said their life would not
be affected by animals going extinct and it
made me sad because I believe the tiny pieces
of our humanity that perish with each species
we forget to save hasten our own souls’ decay.

@Home Studio (after watching War for the Planet of the Apes at Greg’s house with Greg and his family, Debbie, and Celinda on 5/18/24) – 130th poem of the year

Matt Reeves et al., War for the Planet of the Apes. Los Angeles, CA, 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment, 2017.

Runner ups for the War of Apes photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

New York David

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(Poem 129 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Selfie by David Marshall 5/8/24.

New York David is decisive.
He attends business meetings
and lunches with clients and
visits rose gardens simply to
see the sights as a tourist.
New York David stays in hotels
and spends evenings at bars
being someone’s wingman.
He’s an expert in a field I do
not fully understand the
particulars of, nor do I want
to invest the energy to
understand because life is
too short…all I know is that
New York David has planes to
catch and important matters
to settle and will be home
Thursday with his suitcase
and weariness ready to
turn back into Texas David who
lounges in pajamas at home
with his wife and dogs.

@Home Studio – 129th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Prescription Refills

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(Poem 128 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/mFTsj4

One, two, three…maybe four
prescriptions need to be filled
because I grow old and less
able to take pride in health
and vigor like I used to, as though
I somehow earned the youthful
ease with which my joints bent,
and my muscles contracted
instantly, and every sinew
responded to my whim with
instant graceful movement;
those people who complained
of aches and stiffness were
somehow at fault for their
functional inadequacies and
I did not recognize my future
reflection in their eyes because
that woman’s lined face was
contorted with pain.

@Greg’s house – 128th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

The Writing Barn

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(Poem 126 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Photograph I took from inside Buddha Hall at The Writing Barn on 5/5/24.

The oak trees stand guard,
keeping bothersome reality
at bay, ensuring sanctuary
for these tireless artists of
word and story, providing
respite from judgment long
enough for imagination to
begin the process of creative
unfolding, for that is the
only way the art is born
fresh and raw, unfiltered.
Yes, the work of shaping,
peeling, whittling away the
excess will be done to perfect
and sculpt the mass into
something more palatable,
but the first bloody moments of
pain and relief, joy and confusion,
brilliant bursts of kaleidoscopic
invention spilled out into the
universe deserve to be protected.
The oak trees understand
their assignment and take their
oaths very seriously, and for
their loyalty, I am grateful.

@The Writing Barn: Buddha Hall – 126th poem of the year

Photograph I took in Buddha Hall at The Writing Barn on 5/5/24.