Tag Archives: recovery

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

Anniversary

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(Poem 275 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

(10/1/15 Mema, David, Rebekah, Grandad)

9 years ago,
I promised to
continue writing
a love story
with you
for the span
of the rest
of our lives.

I walked
down a grass aisle
to a tree canopy
and exchanged vows
in the presence
of our people
while the sun
set.

It was a Thursday,
and white
lights were strung
in the tree
so we
could celebrate
falling in love
after dark.

@Home Studio – 275th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

The Pick-up Line

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(Poem 274 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

https://images.app.goo.gl/vtm2Hke3cJxup9qq6

Inbound air vehicles
are pulling into the plane
parking lot, unloading people
like children off a school bus
and I’m sitting in the pick-up line,
waiting to scoop
you and your backpack
into the car and whisk
you home where you belong
after a long field trip.

@Home Studio – 274th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Olive Green Yarn

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(Poem 273 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

(Hair stick art display)

I needed a way
to display
my hair sticks
decoratively,
so I measured
and sketched
a design Grandad
could build
with his hands
and his tools
and his can-do
attitude that turns
ideas into art,
like a barn
or a staircase,
a balance beam
or doll furniture,
or a simple
wooden frame
with olive green yarn
stretched taut
between raised metal tacks
and a shiny gold hook
holding fast at the top
to hang my idea
for all the world to see.

@Home Studio – 273rd poem of the year

Poetry

How to be a Good Mother-in-Law

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(Poem 271 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Boaz and Ariel

Respect boundaries
Mind my business
Remember birthdays
Be supportive
Don’t give unwanted advice
Stay connected
Don’t be nosy
Be patient
Set an example
Ask for forgiveness
Set expectations
Hold myself accountable
Accept change
Grant grace

@Home Studio – 271st poem of the year

Poetry

Ways I’ve Thrown Out My Back In My 50s

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(Poem 270 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/K6aM9w

Washing dishes (scrubbing a cookie sheet too hard.)
Rolling over in bed.
Holding up my cell phone to show my daughter a video.
Sitting up straight in my chair.
Bending over to pet Cotton Eyed Joe (my granddaughter’s cat.)
Typing.
Opening a Splenda packet; shaking it too vigorously.
Brushing my teeth.
Scooping a cup of dog food into the dog’s bowl.
Waving my Harry Potter wand.

@Home Studio – 270th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Plasma Blobs

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(Poem 269 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/OvDj2h

Plasma is rare
on earth,
though found
in abundance
everywhere else
in space.
And now scientists
are telling us
that these blobs
that are not solid,
liquid, or gas,
but another state:
communicate,
behave predatorially,
congregate,
interact with satellites,
get the zoomies,
race excitedly
toward thunderstorms,
form crystals—
corkscrew shaped
like DNA,
and may be inorganic
non-biological life
or pre-life,
and we’re supposed
to go on sipping our tea
and paying our bills.

@Home Studio – 269th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Plasma photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

How Will We Know

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(Poem 268 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

Can agony
awaken possibility?
Is it painful
for the seed
to sprout,
or is the bursting out
more like relief?
Will something fresh
find its way through
the detritus
and despair,
and if so,
how will we know
when we can
hope again?

@Home Studio – 268th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

It makes me sad

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(Poem 267 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

It makes me so sad
that people hurt
others and break
their own hearts,
that alleviating pain
destroys so many
from the inside out,
and we must endure
misfortune and loss,
especially if we allow
ourselves to love
with the full volume
of our souls.

@Home Studio – 267th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Sad photos to accompany my poem: