Tag Archives: poet

Poetry, Writing

Fireworks

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(Poem 186 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

Fireworks make my daughter’s emotions swell,
a lump in the throat, eyes fill, heart tight, why?
The beauty of communal celebration, delicate
power on display, explosion of color against a
black background, the artist’s palette consisting
of aluminum and titanium for bright white stars,
copper for the luminous blue, barium for green,  
strontium and lithium salts for red, sodium yellow,
calcium orange, the light like a warning, reaching
our eyes a bit before the slower sound can assault
our ears, rattle our chests, and make us nostalgic
for our own births and deaths…the short answer—
she resonates with the message the fireworks
attempt to share, the poetry of imitating the stars.

@Genuine Joe’s – 186th poem of the year



Poetry, Writing

Echoes of the Future

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(Poem 184 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/rUA3Kt   https://gencraft.ai/p/k2G0lW    https://gencraft.ai/p/UdPZrD

My mother’s voice was
a bit exasperated at the
absence of anyone home.
I did not hear the door
behind her as she left,
but hurried to let her know
I was there and say hello.
I opened the front door;
she was already in her car
but she turned off the engine
when she saw me and
decided to come back in,
or so I thought…
In her reality, she just
arrived, had not yet stepped
foot in the house, had felt
no annoyance at the absence
of anyone and made no sound.
What future echo did I hear
that never even happened?

@Genuine Joe’s – 184th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Echoes photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Laundry

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(Poem 169 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

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:

Poetry, Writing

Turtle in a Turtle Shell

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(Poem 167 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/xW7ThK

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:

Poetry, Writing

Christmas Pretzels in June

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(Poem 166 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/wmZ6oz

I found a bag of iced
Christmas pretzels
with sprinkles in the
back of the pantry.
Seeing as it is June,
they are a bit past
their prime freshness.
Craving a sweet but
unwilling to make a
treat from scratch,
I decided to give one
a taste, just a tiny
tentative baby nibble.
Huh…not bad…fresh
like a time capsule
of Christmas past.

@Home Studio – 166th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Christmas Pretzels photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Kura

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(Poem 164 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

I am so sorry, sweet Kura,
for being a bad steward.
I am treading water and
barely staying afloat.
Between trying to keep
people, dogs, cats, plants,
and an opossum alive,
none can really thrive,
certainly not me and,
obviously, not you.
I am guilty of neglect,
and you deserve better.
I already spoke with your
former caretaker, and she
has agreed to nurse you
back to health, I only
hope it is not too late.

@Home Studio on 6/18/24 @ 10:37pm – 164th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Flag Day

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(Poem 163 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

@Home Studio – 163rd poem of the year (See below for poem in easier to read format)

I’m not much for flying flags of any kind.
Raised a conscientious objector
in a niche religion in the Bible Belt South, I
was taught my allegiance belonged only to
God. No pledges to countries, states, or other
designations were acceptable, and certainly no        
banners representing such entities need adorn
my person, home or belongings. Yet, I’ve always
felt a swell of emotion when the National Anthem
is sung, people covering their hearts in reverence.
In recent years, I’ve learned of the Pan-African flag
that many in the black communities are adopting
to show allegiance to their roots, and the Juneteenth
flag representing when more Americans than ever
were finally rescued from enslavement. I live in Texas,
where many seem more loyal to the state flag than any
other, a people of the lone star who would once again
be fine with setting up their own country if it means
liberals stop messing in their business. I was an
adult when I realized the United States flag is an
ever-changing configuration of stars as states
are added to the union. When Flag Day was
made a federal holiday, there were only 13.
This country has grown to 50, and will
probably expand more in my lifetime.

Poetry, Writing

Power Source

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(Poem 160 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/3BaiVe

At the center of the universe
is a sunflower that radiates
beautiful, perpetual energy—
spirals and sparks, rays and
bolts, streams and streaks—
emanating every which way
from the black inflorescence.
Each petal bursts forth with
eternal seeds of galactic life,
bound for destinations pre-
determined by destiny’s map.

@Home Studio – 160th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Power Source photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Opossum Hammock

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(Poem 158 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/7TnOut

Every opossum should have a hammock
for the purpose of reclining and lounging.
They spend the night mastering feats dynamic,
then cleaning little hands after scrounging.

Their weary bodies need 18 hours of sleep,
so it’s amazing we ever catch them awake.
A suspended soft perch ensures nary a peep,
as they dream of eating cake and a steak.

Yes, every opossum deserves a hanging bed
where they can climb to a safe, warm retreat.
There they can nestle and rest a tired head
to nap in peace and dream of sweet meat.

@Home Studio – 158th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Opossum Hammock photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

David’s Rose

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(Poem 152 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“Long live the Rose that grew”
and shared her life with you,
a man of principles and strength,
a man who’ll go to any length
to be your rock who is stable
and always put food on the table.

Long live the man who knew
that his love for Rose was true,
a woman of conviction and force,
a woman who looks good on a horse,
who would battle on your behalf
and knows how to make you laugh.

@Home Studio – 152nd poem of the year

Shakur, Tupac. The Rose That Grew from Concrete. New York: Pocket Books, 2009.