Tag Archives: poem

Poetry, Writing

Lady by the Sea

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(Poem 291 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

It was many a long age ago,
     In a village by the sea,
That a woman was found washed ashore
     By the name of Annabel Lee;
She was barely alive but wanted nothing more
     Than to hide her identity.

She was so young, so very young,
     In this village by the sea,
But she cared for her friends and grew strong—
     This lovely Annabel Lee—
She held her secrets close to her chest
     So she could remain free.

But one cold, lonely night,
     In this village by the sea,
She decided to share her long sad tale
     The mysterious Annabel Lee;
She faked her death to escape a man
     And boarded a ship to flee,

But the ship was wrecked and that is how
     She washed up with the debris.
She didn’t know why she was cursed so,
     Why Heaven would not let her be—
Or why the man who claimed her soul
     Would not set her free.
That is why she faked her death,
     The brave Annabel Lee.

But she feared he would find her
     The man she did flee—
     The man she tried to flee—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
     Nor the demons down under the sea
Could protect her now from the evil man
     Who was obsessed with Annabel Lee;

So our village, her people, we crowded around
     To protect our Annable Lee;
And when a man arrived to find the tomb
     Of the beautiful Annabel Lee
We took him to an old corpse we dug up
     And dressed in a wedding gown
     And there he lived by the sea—
     With someone he thought was Annabel Lee.          

@Home Studio – 291st poem of the year  (A response to Poe’s “Annabel Lee”)

Runner ups for the Lady by the Sea photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Pocket Elephant

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(Poem 289 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/Jm2JHj

My pocket elephant
is adorable;
I don’t leave home
without her.
She sleeps all snuggled
in her little pouch
until snack time,
when she munches
contentedly on tiny slices
of jackfruit, banana,
bamboo, and tree bark.
Sometimes, she grows
restless if I haven’t pet
her enough, or she has
the zoomies.
Then I let her roam
until she wears
herself out and wants
to climb back in
my pocket.
I pour little capfuls
of water for her to drink,
and give her back scratches
upon demand.
In turn, she loves me
and trumpets her concern
if she senses me getting
too stressed.
She’s my sweet, sweet girl,
my dearest companion,
and has my whole heart.
My only complaint
is how much she poops
and often without warning.

@Home Studio on 10/26/24 @ 10:41pm – 289th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Glowing Orbs

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(Poem 288 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/X7vD4o

when I find myself
in times of trouble
I’m drawn to the river
to reflect and recover
where the glowing orbs
catch my fears
and float them away
with my wasted tears
only then can I return
to my daily routine
less burdened by doubt
less afraid of the unseen
for I know the orbs
will always be there
to absorb every worry
and receive every prayer

@Home Studio – 288th poem of the year

Writing

WTF

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(Poem 285 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/gv2gcr

Why the face
my fri end?
Things could be worse
in the e nd.

Your head
could ex plode,
your left foot
become a to ad.

Your chin
could fall o ff,
or your ear
catch a cou gh.

Your nose
could multi ply,
or a mushroom
sprout from your th igh.

Your teeth
could grow f ur
and your elbow
begin to p urr.

I guess what
I’m trying to s ay
in my own
weird w ay,

is be thankful,
not ber eft,
you’ve got it good,
W T F!?!

@Home Studio – 285th poem of the year

Runner ups for the WTF photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Hole in the Ceiling

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(Poem 276 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/ue2v8M

There’s a hole
in the ceiling
that needs
to be fixed.

The leak
that caused the need
for the hole
has been repaired,
but the hole
remains.

I ponder that space
when the house
is quiet
and nothing else needs
my attention.

The naming of things
fascinates me,
and the fact that we have a word for the absence of something where another thing should be
gives me comfort.

It means
others have discovered
something missing
that needs to be there
and filled it with a name.

@Home Studio – 276th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Hole in the Ceiling photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

My Man is in Japan

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(Poem 265 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

(My man in Japan.)

My man
is in Japan
learning what he can
from teachers who understand
that the world is vast, and dreams are grand
for those who are willing to stretch and expand
both body and spirit by making a personal demand
that pliability and fortitude exist when things unplanned
knock us off center, we discover that we are able to withstand
most of life’s assaults with a calm heart, a quiet mind, and an open hand.

@Home Studio – 265th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Bear

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(Poem 195 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

Man or Bear, easy choice,
especially when my Bear
gives hugs and kisses and
is always happy to see me.

We’re the best of friends;
we understand each other.
Our weekly seal our bond,
my protector, my bodyguard.

She reminds me to use the
restroom when I need to,
to take care of myself and
simply enjoy time together.

@Home Studio – 195th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Bear photos to accompany my poem:

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

Bloody Mary

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(Poem 189 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

Catoptromancy
Dark room
Single candle
Running water
Spin 3 times
Look in the mirror
Ghostly corpse
Chanting her name
Bloody Mary
Bloody Mary
Bloody Mary

 @Home Studio – 189th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Bloody Mary photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Coffee Cacophony

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(Poem 187 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/a9RJoh

You doin’ ok?
the barista asks someone looking at the menu
You’ve got to be hot because I’m hot
my husband says to me
Unidentifiable ethnic-sounding earth music plays
over the speakers chanting comforting spells
A soprano’s laugh bubbles up above all the other sounds
I’m fine
a tenor responds to someone who asks
My husband whispers or raps or sings to himself
perhaps he is reading out loud, it could be any of the above
because he is rarely silent for long
You’ve lost one of your lenses
a woman says to the elderly man she cares for
I know, he says
does she think he is unaware that he can only half-see?
freeway
I was trying to draw you
spiral
London Fog
to be clear
I think we all know
it’s a reservoir
keep going, Dude
really hammer it home
when I’m on stage
I’m not racist or homophobic
not on purpose
there is a monster
how cute
Chai
Hello
A blender and cups being bussed are the percussive elements that were missing.
Tea-Jasmine
Someone knocks loudly on the restroom door
one-two-three-four in quick succession
and a phone whistles
it just got real

@Genuine Joe’s – 187th poem of the year

Runner ups for the coffee shop photos to accompany my poem: