Randomly limited to O,R. N, I, E, Qu,E, V, C
Ice quiver
cure on cure
rice, vino
coin our vice
iron crone
cue over cue
run over run over
cirque curve
vein con
nice cove
ire ounce
corn on corn
The Best Day
Morning sun. A perfectly fried farm-fresh egg.
Toast with home-made raspberry jam. Hands in
garden dirt. Pinching back petunias. Transplanting
beets. Feet moving along park path. Sound shoes.
Dog sniffing critter trails. Sound of tumbling falls.
Tuna sandwich with garden lettuce. Potato chips.
Paddleboards careening along smooth water, sun
warmed skin. Cold water dip. Back home: glass
of Cabernet Sauvignon on the deck. Roasted
vegetables. Nutty rice. Dance party: Swing Town,
Willy Nelson–cowboy two-step, East coast swing.
Fresh sheets dried on the line. Summer-scented skin.
Tender touch. Sleep like the dead.
Prompt 5
In the valley grew a bounty
of ripe fruits and honeysuckle
and mimosa flowers that danced
on the trees like fuscia feathers
sifting through the breeze.
Myth said death lived here,
But the opposite was true.
Our bread was hot and scored with
amber and cinnamon.
Our children ate citrus fruits
As they learned the names of
Gods and animals before us.
We danced together
Every Friday night.
Best Job Ever, 1972 — Hour 6
summer sun on bare shoulders
rowboat on glassy reservoir
surrounded by woods
fat blue crystals of copper sulfate
dangled overboard in a burlap sack
dissolving
row back and forth
dissolving
over and over
oars pumping
forward movement
creates the only breeze
sweat tingles
sun burns
transistor plays Brandy
over and over
hour 6 poem
Cost of Time
Time we all have but not so much,
that we should not waste it but use it well up.
So, this day spend your time with a delicate touch.
So you do not run out and end up looking a schlup.
Did you think it unending this time that you get.
That is not, but for you and all a spendable asset.
Think hard but not long on what you will do.
To spend your time this day to achieve your great coup!
Omnism
Omnism: Everything has truth. From Judaism to Hinduism,Taoism to Confucianism, all have truth that lays beneath. Like a sword to its sheath, I hold the truth to keep me warm. Like a furnace, it would keep heat through the eyes of the person that is holding true.Truth is there and you don’t need to sit in the booth and tell your truths to a person. All religions have the single truth and it should be explored and I hope that people seek it out more. Like Uncle Iroh said It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If you take it from only one place, it become rigid and stale.Truth and knowledge is the key to youth and getting it from different sources will move some nations to positive notions.
Another Ideal Day
The day is filled with joy and laughter
Children are running around the compound with careless abandon
The women of the house roam the garden and stop to smell the flowers
The drizzling rain envelops leaves
The rain increases its intensity and turns into a torrent
It cleans the gutters and clears debris from the carnal
The grasses are wet and drip with water
Car drivers slow to a trot
Soon, the classes are over
Teachers and pupils shout for joy
After the rain emerges sunshine
The sun peeps behind balls of clouds
Chicken soup stews in the kitchen
Its aroma wafting through the air
Aha, chicken soup drives the cold away
It is just another ideal day
Every day I fall in love…
Every day, I fall in love with something new,
A face in a passing car, upturned in a smile,
A dream, remembered long after waking up.
A glint of red in my own unwashed hair,
A tree in winter, looking as good as dead,
A bent leaf curled about grassy blade,
A puff of wind ahead of me on the path, A pup I may never see in its life or mine,
Someone else’s joy at a nice surprise.
The smell of bread leavening by the heat,
Our rabbit’s morning breath so sweet! The joy of taking a walk with words I feel,
A gardener’s joy in dirtied hands and heel.
Reaching in to see if I can touch you, Running hands against living, breathing flesh,
I still fall in love with something new,
I fall in love with love each day,
There isn’t that much, I haven’t loved so far.
Poem 6
I take my burden cleansed fresh in the stream
I clothe the body in a scented cloth
I hide the stench and scars upon the flesh.
Beneath the gloves lay broken dirty nails
The fingertips now purple, curved tight.
Face brown and yellow, bruised about the side.
Cuts and scratches. Fresh and old. Crevice. Cracks.
To hide the damage I can bare one eye.
I can show no further skin or remenant.
To look at scars is seeing creation.
Prompt #3- A Lesson in Mind Control
The mind is creative
until inundated with guidelines
in growth and how to become
(which govern the uneducated.)
‘They’ claim to know the best process
to educate the un.
‘They’ think this is the proper manner
in which to create creativity
yet thoughts become dangerous
when fenced in or restrained
stunting their growth and potential.
Thoughts become wild and uncontrolled
without direction and guidance
or so deemed by the experts.
Creating creativity is in reality
the oxymoron of education.
‘This is how it’s done’ is their motto.
‘Don’t fence me in’ is mine.
No wonder education is expensive,
fences don’t come cheap.