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(Poem 96 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Contentment is pajamas
and a fan blowing straight
on my bare shoulders,
flickering candlelight,
endless streaming of my
favorite shows as long as
I feel like watching them,
sweet tea, lines of poetry,
a chapter of a good novel,
a cool spring breeze that
rustles the tranquil curtains,
salt and pepper kettle chips,
the clickity clack of my
keyboard when my fingers
know what they want to type,
my husband hobbying a
few feet away from me,
the dogs playing outside,
the cats sleeping nearby,
my kids and grandkids off
doing their own things,
and the complete absence
of pain or discomfort.
@Home Studio – 96th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Contentment photos to accompany my poem:





(Poem 88 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Hadassah’s fate was sealed by her beauty,
to become queen of the Persians and Medes.
Though Jewish blood ran through her veins,
Ahasuerus supplied all her needs.
She was put in place to save her people
from Haman, a vindictive and hateful man
who wanted to kill her entire race
with a conniving and evil master plan.
By purim’s luck, the date was set
to exterminate every Jew in the land,
but Esther’s favor with the king bought grace,
which allowed her people to take a stand.
And on that day so long ago
when soldiers attacked the Jews,
they were ready with weapons to defend themselves
thanks to the king’s brave Jewish muse.
@Home Studio – 88th poem of the year
(Poem 86 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

When you smile at me with genuine joy,
there’s no greater sight in the world.
It’s like an endless field of bluebonnets,
or the moment a rainbow appears in the sky.
It’s the striking outline of snow-capped mountains,
or a stained-glass window that takes your breath away.
When you laugh out loud spontaneously,
there’s no greater sound in the world.
It’s like a church choir breaking into song,
or celebration after the game-winning goal.
It’s birds calling to each other across a glade,
or the dazzling fanfare of a marching band.
When you hold me tight in your strong arms,
there’s no better feeling in the world.
It’s like warming your hands in front of a fire,
or soaking in a hot bubble bath on a cold day.
It’s hot tea and Christmas lights, a whispered prayer,
or the first sunlight after a storm, wrapped up in peace.
@Home Studio – 86th poem of the year
(Poem 58 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
“This is hard,” you say,
and point to her portrait,
no more words required.
Tears begin to flow;
you don’t want to cry
and say so.
I tell you no one knows
what you are feeling.
None of us have had a
best friend for 70 years
and had to feel the pain
of losing her.
Then I escape to my
room to weep into
my husband’s arms,
crying even harder
because she can’t
hold you.
@Home Studio – 58th poem of the year
(Poem 57 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
“This is only the beginning.” – Chani Dune: Part One

My heart is a Coriolis storm,
for I fear losing this us we have.
I am no bene gesserit, so have
no Other memory, only Our
memory, those made in my
yali, where I welcomed you as
my own–deep in the cool, safe
darkness of our ancient Usul sietch.
Your Chakobsa halting, sounding
more like a child than the warrior
you have proven to be, but your
Galach utterances in your most
vulnerable moments made me
ache to know more of you.
I do not understand your prescience,
though I have not believed in tales
since I was a wali, barely able to
lift my weapon, still swayed by
Zensunni stories of Lisan al Gaib.
I love you, though you are no
Fremen, never can be; you are my
Mahdi. Can’t that be enough?
Hear my heart flutter like the
beat of thopter wings, while yours
is steady as a thumper calling
Shai-Hulud, eager for you to fly
to me and sink your maker hooks
deep into my skin, steer me across
the golden seas of Arrakis, your
love the spice that flows through
my veins, your touch the palm lock
to the center of my universe.
Be my Kwisatz Haderach, only mine.
I remember the first time we shared a
stilltent on the open erg and kept
each other warm late into the night.
We talked until the hour of assassins,
and I fell into a deep sleep in your arms.
I dreamed I was with child and had just
caught a desert hare to roast for dinner.
The child in my belly kicked hungrily
and I laughed at his impatience.
I looked down into a pool of clear
water and saw my own reflection.
Sparkling water rings ornamented my
hair, gifts from you at our betrothal.
When I awoke, you had left the tent
and a sense of foreboding filled my heart.
I found you staring at the sky toward
Krelln, a dune hawk soaring in its light.
You watched as it set its sights on a
muad’dib, fascinated by the movements
of the tiny mouse as it pretended
nonchalance toward the predator.
You seemed relieved when, at the last
possible second, it dived into a hidden
burrow, avoiding a deadly fate;
your sigh awakened something in me.
Stay by my side, my love, far from
the water of life, which is no life.
Grow old with me and weather
each hulasikali wala until the day
deathstills return our water to our
people, for this is the only true paradise.
@Home Studio – 57th poem of the year – after watching Dune: Part Two opening night at Galaxy Theater.
Herbert, Frank. Dune. Hodder Paperback, 2006.
Villeneuve, Denis. Dune: Part One. Warner Bros. Pictures, Oct. 22, 2021.
Villeneuve, Denis. Dune: Part Two. Warner Bros. Pictures, March 1, 2024.
Wikipedia contributors. “Glossary of Dune (franchise) terminology.” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, 28 Feb. 2024. Web. 3 Mar. 2024.
Bene Gesserit – Secretive and powerful matriarchal order whose members possess extraordinary physical and mental powers.
Chakobsa – Language of the Fremen of Arrakis, inspired by the Caucasian hunting language of the same name.
Coriolis storm – Sandstorms on Arrakis in which “winds across the open flatlands are amplified by the planet’s own revolutionary motion to reach speeds up to 700 kilometers per hour.”
Deathstill – Fremen device used to extract all moisture from a living or dead human or creature. This is traditionally done to reclaim precious water from the dead, who no longer require it; (Huanui-nau)
Dune hawk – a type of Desert hawk native to Arrakis. Also a type of Flyer or Ornithopter.
Erg – a broad, flat area of desert covered with wind-swept sand with little or no vegetative cover.
Fremen – “Native” inhabitants of Arrakis.
Galach – Universal language of the Dune universe.
Hour of Assassins – the first hour before dawn.
Hulasikali Wala – fremen name for the Coriolis storm.
Krelln – First moon – the major satellite of Arrakis.
Kwisatz Haderach – “The Shortening of the Way” or “The one who can be two places simultaneously”. Bene Gesserit label applied to “the unknown for which they sought a genetic solution: a male Bene Gesserit whose organic mental powers would bridge space and time.”
Lisan al Gaib — (Arabic: لسان الغيب) The Fremen term for an off-world prophet or messiah. It is “The Voice from the Outer World” and is outlined in Fremen messianic legends heavily influenced by the Bene Gesserit’s Missionaria Protectiva. It is also translated as the “Giver of Water”.
Mahdi – “In the Fremen messianic legend, ‘The One Who Will Lead Us to Paradise;'” applied to Paul Atreides by the Fremen when they determine that he is their messiah. The term Mahdi is the same as that used in Islam for a messianic figure who will appear shortly before the Day of Judgment in Islamic eschatology.
Muad’Dib – “The adapted kangaroo mouse of Arrakis, a creature associated in the Fremen earth-spirit mythology with a design visible on the planet’s second moon. This creature is admired by Fremen for its ability to survive in the open desert.”[3] In Dune, Paul Atreides takes “Muad’Dib” as his Fremen name, which takes on greater significance when he is perceived as a messiah.
Ornithopter (or ‘Thopter) – “Aircraft capable of sustained wing-beat flight in the manner of birds;” one of the primary modes of transportation on the desert planet Arrakis.
Other Memory – The combined ego and memories of all female ancestors, which a Bene Gesserit may be trained to access.
Palm lock – “Lock or seal which can be opened only by contact with the palm of the human hand to which it has been keyed.”
Prescience – Form of precognition, based in genetics but made possible by use of the drug melange.
Shai-Hulud – Fremen name for the sandworms of Arrakis. Sandworm – Giant sand-dwelling creatures native to Arrakis. Called Shai-Hulud by the Fremen and worshipped as deities
Sietch – Cave warren inhabited by a Fremen tribal community; in the Fremen language, “Place of assembly in time of danger.” The name was borrowed from the sich of Zaporozhian Cossacks.
Spice – Common name for melange, a highly-addictive drug essential to space travel, extended life, and therefore to the survival of the universe.
Stilltent – “Small, scalable enclosure of micro-sandwich fabric designed to reclaim as potable water the ambient moisture discharged within it by the breath of its occupants.”
Thumper – “Short stake with a spring-driven clapper at one end”, placed in the sand to ‘call’ sandworms, who are attracted to vibration and sound.
Usul – Fremen word, meaning “The strength at the base of the pillar.” This is the secret “sietch name” (known only to his tribe) given to Paul Atreides upon his joining the Fremen.
Wali – The name the Fremen give to an untried youth.
Water rings – Metal rings wore by Fremen women to indicate their household’s possessed water.
Water of Life – Toxic liquid exhalation of a drowning sandworm, used by Fremen Reverend Mothers in the spice agony.
Yali – “A Fremen’s personal quarters within the sietch.”
Zensunni – Ancient religious sect, ancestors of the Fremen.
(Poem 51 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

I am happy and in love with my partner.
Choosing to love is not easy when he
forgets to put his towel in the hamper,
leaves a greasy cast iron skillet on the stove,
lets the rain destroy my box of mementos,
or flings open the door startling me again.
Falling in love happens effortlessly when he
brags about me in front of his friends,
asks how he can support me as I grieve,
holds me close and lets me cry until I’m spent,
and makes time to play with our grandchildren.
Remembering to love is not simple when he
refuses to argue/walks away from my anger,
chews too loudly while leaving crumbs,
forgets what I’ve told him and blames me,
or acts irritated when asked to clean.
Being in love is a piece of cake when he
takes me to coffee shops to write and sip tea,
laughs unabashedly at TikToks with me,
says I’m smart and shows he values my ideas,
and is a good sport with my giant family.
I am happy and in love with my partner.
@Home Studio – 51st poem of the year
Runner ups for the AI hands (which AI really struggles with for some reason, so these are really funny) photos to accompany my poem:





(Poem 43 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

I am at peace with myself and those I love.
No animosity hangs stale in the air,
nor anger brews and steeps in silence.
I have forgiven and released, at least for now,
resentments or regrets I may have nursed.
Prayers of blessing, for protection, of thanks
abound this morning as I start my day.
If I steer clear of them, this love I feel, so pure,
so genuine, might last until lunch time.
@Home Studio – 43rd poem of the year
Runner ups for the at peace with those I love photos to accompany my poem:





(Poem 40 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

You make me so angry.
Then you want to go on
with conversation as if nothing
has tilted my axis, forever
altering my perception of you.
I am not designed as others.
Once you lose my respect,
it is difficult to gain it back.
Refusal to explain when
confronted seems to be
your protective measure
to maintain privacy, dignity?
I am man, I owe nothing to
no one, hear me roar,
but to me it is weakness,
denying vulnerability,
insisting others accept
your reality without a hint
of clarification for those of
us whose realities include
other humans in community.
How strange to be a lone
commuter on this subway of
life without a care for
anyone else.
@Genuine Joe’s – 40th poem of the year
(Poem 9 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

My demon
was once a believer
whose heart was broken
by killing
his love.
Could any soul
survive such cruelty
in the name of
Confucius?
Kong Qui would be
offended by
blood blasphemy.
The teacher who
teaches humanity,
filial piety,
righteousness and ritual
as four pillars
of morality
would never condone
violence as a means
to an end.
Is God a homeless
gambler betting on
peoples’ fates for fun?
No wonder love
turns to hate
and there’s always
hell to pay.
@Home Studio – 9th poem of the year; written while watching (and inspired by) My Demon episode 12 “The Savior of Destruction”, one of my current Korean shows.