Tag Archives: Poetry

Married at First Sight

December 29, 2024 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(Poem 353 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

https://images.app.goo.gl/zuNc7FPEYszqwr1q7

What kind of courage must it take
to agree to marry a complete stranger?
To put your fate in the hands of professional
matchmakers who will find you a mate?

What kind of failures in relationships
and heartbreak must you have experienced
to decide your picker is irrevocably broken,
so you’re better off letting someone else decide?

What kind of hope must bubble up
as you dress for your wedding day,
eager to meet the man or woman
you might spend all your days with?

What kind of crash course in communication
could possibly prepare two people
who’ve only just met to dive into
a honeymoon and sleep in the same bed?

What kind of crazy, wild optimism
drives two people to move in together,
combine households, be vulnerable,
and believe in falling in love with a stranger?

@Home Studio – 353rd poem of the year (Based on the show Married at Frist Sight, Nashville, Season 16.)

Married at First Sight, Nashville, Season 16, Chris Coelen, Eric Detwiler, Montre Burton, Kinetic Content, FYI, Lifetime, 2023.

Runner ups for the Married at First Sight photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Racoon Tea Party

December 29, 2024 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(Poem 352 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/UuhkJ4

The monthly meeting
of the forest animals
started as a racoon
tea party, but soon grew
to include mice, a rabbit,
a few squirrels, and an
occasional deer or two.

They haven’t changed
the name from the initial
Racoon Tea Party title,
but will probably vote
next time on a new event
headline that more
adequately captures
their essential makeup.

Because, really, it’s not
even about the tea, either.
The tea is a nice incidental
part of every gathering,
of course, but the real
meat of the assembly
is stimulating discussion
of all matters consequential.

Whether it be politics,
religion, philosophy, science
the nature of reality, love,
literature, finance, history,
the arts, alchemy, astronomy,
anthropology, languages,
or artificial intelligence,
the conversation is deep.

Albert racoon always steers
the discussion to matters
economical, which irritates
Edward racoon to no end.
And Amos squirrel tends to
interrupt Silas rabbit anytime
he brings up weather patterns.
Olivia squirrel snorts disagreement.

Freda racoon can never get
a word in edgewise because
Agnes racoon prattles on about
the pharmaceutical industry
at every opportunity, and loudly,
but, all in all, they have a roaring
good time every month around dusk
at their meeting of the minds.

@Home Studio – 352nd poem of the year

Runner ups for the Racoon Tea Party photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Space Library

December 29, 2024 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(Poem 351 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

Reading books in a space library,
unburdened by insignificant
things like gravity or air,
makes for a floating good time.

No day or night means
reading as long as the story
calls for, the library is open,
and the coffee or tea is flowing.

Of course, no one can hear
the laughter that spills over
from the funny parts because
there’s no sound in space.

And if a particularly poignant
part wrenches unbidden tears
from weary eyes, they are unable
to fall; there’s no crying in space.

@Home Studio – 351st poem of the year

Runner ups for the Space Library photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Strawberry Shortcake

December 29, 2024 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(Poem 350 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/RI2oOB

Strawberry Shortcake
was such a lovely girl
who lived in Strawberryland
and rode a pink bicycle.

Her kitty cat Custard
and friends Lemon Meringue
Blueberry Muffin
Angel Cake
Apple Dumplin’
Butter Cookie
Mint Tulip
Lime Chiffon
Raspberry Tart
Café Ole
Plum Puddin’
Tea Blossom
and Huckleberry Pie
always had her back.

And that smell,
oh, that delectable
Strawberry Shortcake
delicious scent,
the aroma of childhood
for a sliver of children
born in the 70s
early 80s.

@Home Studio – 350th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Book Girl

December 29, 2024 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(Poem 349 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/uELVD0

Between the covers
so many worlds
unfold into beautiful
realities where she
can be anything or
anyone or nothing
but a concept
or a rhythm
or a sound
that inflates the silence
with pulsating
life on the verge
of one final breath
before the universe flings
itself into new voids
so she can invent
something new.

@Home Studio – 349th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Book Girl photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Pearl Diver

December 29, 2024 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(Poem 348 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

The lives of the oppressed
are sacrificed to satisfy
the frivolous whims
of the powerful
with the luster
of blood pearls
and mermaid’s tears.

The battle of the depths
is a fight to the death
for those forced to toil
beneath the surface
deprived of oxygen,
freedom, choice, love—
purely to appease
the purses of nobles
and the vanity of every
beautiful lady in the
Tang Dynasty.

@Home Studio – 348th poem of the year (Based on The Story of Pearl Girl.)

Xie Ze, The Story of Pearl Girl. lusi Zhao, Yuning Liu, Tang Xiao Tian, Laoyouo Film and Television and Galaxy Cool Entertainment Media, 2024.

Runner ups for the Pearl Diver photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Gator Bird

December 28, 2024 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(Poem 347 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/Hnji3q

The great North American
Gator Bird can be found
in the swamps and marshlands
in the Louisiana bayous
along the Mississippi
and the Okefenokee in Georgia.

They eat other birds, snakes,
turtles, fish, racoons, opossums,
deer, and the occasional stray human.

@Home Studio – 347th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Gator Bird photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Robot’s Best Friend

December 28, 2024 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(Poem 346 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/w6GDY1

Robot was programmed
to play fetch with dog.
Dog, unaware that it was code,
built a friendship with Robot.

Dog was taught to always
reciprocate kindness with kisses.
Robot, unaware that it was trained,
grew to love the unruly Dog.

Together, they went on walks,
and Robot gave Dog pets.
Dog waited for Robot to charge;
Robot waited for Dog to wake.

Neither judged the other for
not being what they were not.
Robot and Dog were the best
friends a machine and dog could be.

@Home Studio – 346th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Robot and Dog photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Bird Calls

December 28, 2024 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(Poem 345 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/te3J3b

I was reading a Mary Oliver
poem, as I tend to do
and the theme was birdsong,
as her poems tend to be,
and I was transported—
looking out the open window
of my grandson’s room
when he lived with me
as a baby,
our routine as simple
as one, two, three,
me holding him
him looking at me,
waiting for my imitation
of the bird call of the morning.

I was quite impressed
with my mimicry,
as was he.
The bird would sing to us
and we would respond.
If I took too long,
my grandson would grunt
to hurry me up.
A proper reply must
be whistled off, woman.

I’d forgotten that I learned
three different bird calls
during our shelter-in-place
COVID season,
probably the accomplishment
I’m secretly most proud of,
even though I also got
my Master’s degree,
fostered my grandchildren,
taught remotely,
rescued an elderly cat,
and survived.

But those morning
conversations between
the birds, my grandson,
and me—

@Home Studio – 345th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Bird Calls photos to accompany my poem: