Prompt 17 – Nature’s Kaleidoscope

Image Courtesy of Pixabay

 

In nature’s grand kaleidoscope, behold,

A scene of wonder, colors manifold,

A large pond nestled in the forest’s keep,

Under the sky, where dreams and memories sweep.

The azure canvas, wide and endless blue,

With wisps of white clouds, in the sky they strew,

A backdrop pure, where daydreams softly play,

Upon this canvas, life’s enchantments sway.

The forest stands in robes of myriad hues,

A tapestry of greens, golds, and vibrant blues,

With every tree a sentinel of grace,

A guardian of this tranquil, sacred space.

And at the heart, where water meets the land,

A spectacle of wonder, vast and grand,

A pond that shimmers with reflections clear,

A watery realm, where mysteries appear.

Here, hundreds of flamingoes, bold and bright,

In deep pink plumage, take their morning flight,

A sight to stir the heart and soul anew,

In this kaleidoscope, where dreams come true.

They grace the water’s surface with their dance,

In perfect harmony, a sweet romance,

Their gentle ripples paint the pond with grace,

A masterpiece of color in this sacred place.

The forest whispers secrets to the breeze,

The flamingoes wade with elegant ease,

A symphony of life in vibrant hues,

In nature’s kaleidoscope, we’re free to choose.

So, take a moment, let your spirit soar,

In this enchanting scene forevermore,

A masterpiece of colors, bright and bold,

In nature’s kaleidoscope, a story told.

Antoinette LeRoux © 2023

Hour 17–Driver’s Exam

Please complete the written portion of your driver’s exam as soon as possible, preferably by yesterday. Monitors are watching. NO GEL PENS!

MULTIPLE CHOICE

  1. When apologizing to a police officer one should always, A. Wear a mustache, B. Offer to pay for coffee, C. Speak in free verse, D. All of the above.
  2. Tire pressure must be maintained by law. Tire pressure maintained by a tennis pro is, A. A mistake, B. Subject to jury ruling, C. Iambic, D. Okay if tennis pro owns the tire store.
  3. Never park closer to a fire hydrant than, A. About yay far, B. The length of a ’78 Montego, C. One year, D. Parks & Recreation.
  4. Water boils at, A. 114 degrees Celcius, B. The bottom of my radiator, C. Will, D. Newark, New Jersey.
  5. Turn signal lever may be found on, A. Amazon Prime, B. Joey’s car, C. This exam, D. The equator.
  6. Safely enter a roundabout in what direction? A. Nonet, B. Rondel, C. West, D. Tasty Kreme.
  7. How much ethanol is allowed in gasoline? A. What the sign says, B. 40 gal. per million, C. How big Big Gulp?, D. 18 years of age.
  8. What does a YIELD sign mean? A. Triangle, B. You like stink-eye?, C. Carl hasn’t stolen it yet., D. C.S. Lewis.
  9. Not that you would know, but a 4-wheel drive vehicle has how many wheels? A. Spare, B. Split, C. Steel-belted, D. Lawrence Ferlinghetti

EXTRA CREDIT ESSAY QUESTION:

Please describe the formation of the modern U.S. Highway System, in correlation with the Post Modern poetry movement, complete with contemporary references.

Kaleidoscope World (acrostic) – Hour 17, Prompt 17

Kaleidoscope shines

A world rainbow bright

Lovely, happy light

Evening’s a sight

In sunset, refracted

Diamonds bow in reverence, impacted

Over its fractal beauty

Shining o’er hill, faceted lakes

Covered in color, no shadows we make

Our skies, all aglitter

People, all blinged

Earth a prism, reimagined.

– Sandra Johnson, 9-3-2023

 

 

HR-5 My Busy Girl

Such a busy little girl
Give you paper to draw
I continue writing
Here you go questions, questions, questions

Take the paper here
No, take the paper there
Trade me pencils
Grab my eraser

Can you have popcorn
Yes I’ll share
Take my popcorn over
I would like some too

Busy, busy, busy
A bowl,now she wants a bowl
Can I get back to writing
What am I writing again, oh yeah poems

This is the life
My beautiful, busy little toddler
Wouldn’t trade it for nothing
Just please let me finish this poem

A frustrating life of an adult

The juicer whirrs as I hum. Nothing in particular sits in my head.
I throw another chunk of beet into the blender.
Confirming from the recipe book, I add some cinnamon
The juice whirrs up to the top, red foamy juice splashes on my pink jacket.
What is left of the juice gets upturned by my tremor. I hold my hand, stroking from elbow to wrist, elbow to wrist
The lightbulb overheard goes on and off, on and off, signalling a low electrical power unit.
Just when I think adulthood is done with me, it says not yet.

I walk into the garage to get a torch.
As I step into the garage- my carport with a fence. My leg locates a bucket forgotten after a car wash
My car stares at me like a displeased elk and then it goes wailing. I sit on the floor and cry.

Hour 17 – Kaleidoscopic

Kaleidoscopic

Multi-colored bits of glass
Tin boxes full of rattling buttons
Polka-dots on little girl dresses
Varicolored jellybeans in a jar

Science tells us
We are attracted to these things –
Multitudes in prismatic array –
Because they give us a feeling of plenty

Dot stickers in rainbow colors
Plastic bins of building blocks
Cupcakes covered in sprinkles
Bright fish darting through coral reefs

Deprivation dogged our ancestors
So they filled their larders with jars
The bins and barrels and boxes
Made people feel safe for the winter

Christmas trees decked with lights
Colored markers standing in a cup
Glittery beads sliding on a string
Fancy flowers arranged in a vase

Next time you crave colored candy
Or buy yourself a box of crayons
It may, in part, be nostalgia
Or it’s your ancestors keeping you alive

Kaleidoscope a mirage

Hour 5

As a child, for science project I made a ‘Kaleidoscope’

As a mom for my child’s project I made a ‘Kaleidoscope’

I love looking at the different shades of colours reflected

I just love to admire the beautiful patterns formed

 

Thinking about my life I started feeding depressed

So many colours missing

So many patterns missing

So many shades missing

 

Looking through the ‘Kaleidoscope’

My life would have been so much colourful

So full of mysteries

I would have captured so many shades

 

I sighed and put down the ‘Kaleidoscope’

For the first time saw the real world

I saw beautiful colours, unimaginable shades and patterns

It’s time we put down the ‘Kaleidoscope’

 

Rashmi S Kurup

Prompt 16 – A Dubious Apology

Image Courtesy of Pixabay

 

With words so sweet, a honeyed tone,

My sister speaks, her contrite moan,

But hidden well, beneath her guise,

A subtle twist, veiled in her lies.

“Dear sibling,” she begins to say,

“I’m sorry for that fateful day,

When words were harsh, and tempers flared,

And your dear dog, I rudely stared.”

Her voice, so gentle, feigned remorse,

But watchful eyes, I stay on course,

For in her tone, a subtle smirk,

Her twisted scheme, a cunning quirk.

“I never meant to cause offense,

In my defense, I took no offense,

Your dog’s just fine, he’s quite alright,

A sturdy soul, despite the fight.”

A backhanded “sorry,” I perceive,

A dance of words, a web she’d weave,

She feigns remorse with utmost grace,

But in her heart, a different chase.

Her apology, a sly charade,

With hidden jabs, it’s well-played,

For though she claims to make amends,

Her true intent, she won’t amends.

So, sister dear, I see your game,

Your words may flicker like a flame,

But I’ll protect my loyal friend,

With love and care, until the end.

Your apology, though thinly veiled,

Will not leave me feeling derailed,

For in my dog’s unwavering eyes,

True love and trust, no need for lies.

Antoinette LeRoux © 2023

16 candles

This is not poem.

That is to say,

I am not a poem today.

I don’t rhyme all the time

But I rhyme when I rhyme

So the times when I rhyme

I don’t time I just rhyme.

This is not a poem,

It’s a sign.

Something you

were meant to find.

(Its like dick to your mind,

Well, . . . Like a p***y to mine.)

This poem does not identify as poem,

Or prose, or any type of poetic mumbo jumbo.

It maintains and requires no pronouns at this time.

It chooses to identify as JULIAN the INKED.

This article of writing has no form, it does not care to be read but it was maid . . .  E . . . made  to inform.

This is too near to be clear and too far from the norm.

A shit storm.

As they say in the industry.

What industry?

That

Is the mistery.

Of Misery

Pissery.

I am no poem.

I am not even poetic or rhythmic,

I am horrific idle jiverish

The gift exchange that’s re exchanged

For Xmas, Hanakka

In

Santa

Monica.

I’m serious, don’t even THink of thinking of mE As a poem.

Stop trying to find my flaws or my form.

In fact, I’m not here to perform or inform.

I’m here to belong

Not to

be

Long.

16 strong.

This is for

The Poeticly

Mentally spiritually Strong.

Keep on keeping on.

You know how you know when you’re doing great!?

When you get 16 candles on your g*dd*m cake!

This is no poem.

This is a congratulatory note.

For being the 16th poem that you wrote.

(Today, In 16 hours, beast mode).

To the few, the proud, the crazy crowd.

Salute.