Here, now

I like who I am
where I am
how I am

in my own skin
I used to take
for granted

that is not
the norm for
so many

Not a brag
or boast – just
that I get it

Like Sammy
‘I gotta be me’

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2021

Ponderables (hour 11 prompt)

On days when I am feeling
I think of when I was a kid
and my potential
career choices changed

I once wanted to be
a forest ranger
though confusing one with
the Lone Ranger
I was disappointed to
learn that not many
people were
mean to trees

Plus, they would’ve
stuck me in a swamp
wearing gumboots and
chasing leeches

I never wanted to be
one of those
window washers
though watching them
from inside
turned out to be cool –
the opposite
from when I learned
from a baker
that sourdough really was
SOUR dough
alive, actually.

my times of dwelling on
such things is
fairly limited
as I don’t have a lot of
bad days

And when I do
I’m never
really depressed and
don’t even say I have
the blues
more just a case of
the periwinkles

– Mark L. Lucker

© 2021

Holiday Hmms… (A Troika) Prompt 10

I propose ‘polar
prestidigitation’ for
‘magic of Christmas’

Are Santa’s elves
still pissed with LOTR
oddball depictions?

Was Christmas Eve the
one wearing a wreath instead
of her normal fig leaves?

– Mark L. Lucker

© 2021

Cheese (aged Kilmerish)

I think that I shall never eat
A poem lovely as most cheese.

A cheese whose hungry body is prest
Against my taste buds, Mmmm – the best!

A cheese that sits with God all day,
And learns to sit, and sit, and age;

A cheese smoothly covered in waxy lacquer
Can be sliced and placed atop a cracker!

Upon whose bosom mold has sat;
Who intimately lives with fat.

Poems are made by folks like me,
But only cows, goats, sheep, buffalo,
and cheesemakers can make cheese!

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2021

What’s at play? (hour 14 prompt)

I was on the road today
with ample time
due to detours
and errands
spent driving
smaller, rural
communities as
well as city and suburban

It is summer
the weather good
leaving me
puzzled, in dismay
well-stocked parks
equipment filled
baseball diamonds and
soccer fields galore
all devoid of

We do our children
our society
a disservice by
allowing this disuse
not in
squandering our
but in not letting our
squander their time
without putting these
to use

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2021

Do’s, don’ts (Hour 22 – Stay Awake Poem)

Contrary to popular belief
I do not need coffee
to wake up in the morning



I do not need coffee
in order for ME to wake up
in the morning
though it does come in
extremely handy
and is therefor mandatory
in the limited set of
circumstances as such:
*Speaking coherently
*Hearing coherently
*Functioning in ways
normally ascribed to
reasonable human
especially in regards
to the workplace

There are other, very
specific situations
in which coffee is required
should you want any
participatory action from me.

Any deviation from these
specifics as put forth
will be dealt with in the
harshest terms possible in
terms of law, and good sense.

Unless there is no
rendering all other rationality
So sayeth the Oracle.
Or Mr. Coffee.

I get those two confused
all the time.

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2021

Ode, Dear

An ode by any other name would
Still read just as obsequious
Any great poet writes an epic ode
Any praiseworthy topic will do!
Wordsworth commended duty –
Pope in high praise of solitude
Keats was prolific at acclaiming
the generally obscure; nightingales
(his poetry literally for the birds)
and his lauding of Grecian urns
still spawns underpaid Greek jokes.

Thomas Gray exalted bards while
Shelley extolled the west wind
Forsaking other directional breezes
Neruda was more the commoner
Praising his socks – woolen, as such

Lacking the adrenal verve of praising
Inanimate objects and lesser birds
I considered writing self-reflective
stanzas of indulgent commendation
But my efforts were, alas, for naught
As I discovered that writing an ode
To ones own-self, patting thine own
Back as it were, puts one in need of
Self-congratulatory chiropractic care
Due to overly climatic contortions

In short, to assert such presumption
I am owed an ode is overtly odious.

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2021

Not odd (hour 8 prompt)

I think Odysseus got it all wrong
off on his adventures
little planning, reservations
not made in advance
obvious why his trip went badly

Wrong spots, wrong time of year
wrong monsters
a little planning goes a long way
so did Odysseus
but it didn’t have to be

He could’ve brought his son
many spots offer
kids eat/stay free and
there were always things
they could have team-built on

They really needed some decent
father/son time, bonding
fishing, perhaps – or sports
though explaining sirens to mom
would have taken some finesse

Location is everything in regards
to real estate, vacations
Sparta is not Cabo at spring break
when you travel on the cheap
beggars can’t be choosers

Mark L. Lucker
© 2021

City night

‘…I go out walkin’ after midnight’
searching for you…’

– Patsy Cline

The darkness holds no special or
tangential fear for me
though it probably should
for there is huge difference
between the woodlands
I knew growing up and
decidedly urban environment
I live in now

Unrest last year propelled me
into our neighborhood
watch mobilization
observe, don’t engage, report
not heeding that advice we
mostly skipped non-engagement
gently offering pushback to

Looking back one thing I can say
is that many of us found or
rediscovered affinity for
our city during deepest night
sights, sounds –
same, not the same
teeming with life beyond our

Bonds if not friendships were
forged in those few weeks
of nocturnal hustle and bustle
we came, we saw, we engaged
we found we liked it
the rhythm, the aura –
neighborhood, nocturnal, alive
wide asleep

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2021


The extremes of who, what I am
DNA, culturally, nature/nurture
all fun to puzzle piece together

What my forebearers did, what
was done to them, is historically
recorded, reported, unresolved

My detective skills sharpened
with time, experience, dumb luck
can be broken down precisely:

Having descended from seafaring
Vikings and diaspora Ashkenazi
my wanderlust is DNA encoded

So, also, my perpetual state of
wondering: should I stop now and
pillage, or simply keep wandering.

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2021

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