Ekphrastic Haiku
snuggle down, babies
let sleep take you away
kid, dog, in blanket
#18
Cookies
chocolate chip cookies
great recipe
Makes about 8
decent size cookies
Great for late night
or early morning writing
snack
What the Addict Added – Hour Seventeen
I’m not certain quite how to adjust to this new level of disgust
That you feel daily without all the drugs
This new clarity that has ended the hilarity
And now it’s all shame and regret and reflection
With the odd painful confession
And sometimes I just
Miss the old you
A taboo.
TABLE FOR TWO (hour 18, 2017)
Let me sit awhile, here, on your porch.
Let me relax, and recall what it’s like to be still
and present, as if there were no past
to shuffle around like so many doctored photos
of meals I once ate, hotels I once slept in,
friends and exes, and others I once loved.
Let me rest here awhile, quietly at home
amongst the sleeping teacups & saucers for two –
as if that were my childhood’s doll and my dearest
whose chair has just now been abandoned for places unknown.
Let me pour out memory’s delicate brew, savor the downhill view.
Let me imagine this is a memory I once recalled.
Berthe Morisot, Doll on a Porch, 1884 private collection, Portland
— viewed in Women Impressionists
Hour Nightteen
Write a poem set in space. The details are entirely up to you!
By Patricia Harris
Stars spred
In comet trails
Black holes sweeping
The milky way
Pulling out the
Extra stuff thrown loose
From random
Star stuff
Table for two
“Two, please”
he had uttered the phrase
countless times
in so many places around town
squiring so many
different women
money never a problem
success, women
followed him all his life
joined him in misadventures
big, bigger – even bigger
a big tipper, gregarious
everyone liked to see him
his rotating cast of
companions, ever amusing,
keeping waiters, barkeeps
ever guessing as to his ‘type’
his only consistency being
his standard request
“Table for two, please.”
years passed
time took its toll
the world had changed
his kind were no longer the
‘go to’ for masculine
reference
he still haunted the same
places
knew some
of the same faces
still requested
“Table for two, please.”
though often as not
he dined alone
One night, a favorite
dinner spot, an old
friend having cancelled
“Table for two”
found him alone in his
duality
looking around, he
saw families,
tables full of
two, three generations
He ordered a cocktail
sat there, listened to
the din of
boisterous laughter
sons, daughters,
grandparents,
grandchildren
surrounded by a cacophony
he knew he
would never grasp
he just sat there, tightly
gripping, but not drinking
his drink
as tears rolled down
his face.
– Mark L. Lucker
© 2017
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd
Life in Outer Space, Unknown
All I recognize
is absence
yet I have no definition
to explain absence
as if in a trance
where not black
not symbols
of time, nor distance.
I try to lift my foot,
but never move
one place is the
same as another.
strangely, sound
penetrates, echoes,
my movements make noise,
but nothing is real,
I see a book, floating,
I hear the petals fall,
from flowers without
scent, colorless,
the absence is a bridge
between the true and
the imagined is not
enough to become
replacement for life
not a replacement
for adoration, not love.
Prompt #19 (Spaced out j.r.m©)
Dance between the stars
the collision of universes
planets revolve around
in their orbits never
changing destinations.
fathomless
boundless
void
infinities are measured
Gravity doesn’t hold
much influence
and you can fly away
or float away
but, so can your shit
and piss.
Space is a beautiful place
to visit but, sadly it isn’t
home for our lungs require
oxygen to survive which
doesn’t exist in space.
SPACE is the dance
of celestial bodies
effortlessly
eloquently.
Where stardust
looks like rain
suspended mid-air.
How divine
so eternal.
Yet untouchable…
j.r.m©
Space
Poem 17
Space
Gravity does not trap me to the ground
Buoyant and strong
I float into my dreams
like a song
Into the vast blackness wearing my crown
Zombies in Space – Prompt 19
NIGHT. INT. TV on movie that could be from ’80s. Think Golden Girls-Meets-Night Stalker.
“Don’t let me take your time –
it’s been a wild news night –
oh, you’re just getting in?
Well, I could fill you in – ”
CLOSE-UP. Face of Space Expert whose arm is bit at crucial moment of space escape.
“Someone turn off that damn movie!
We’ve got a real emergency.
Two valves to our air supply are tangled.”
“Hm, hated Air Supply. How ’bout a band I could dance to,”
comments the smart-mouthed girl Space Expert with unnecessarily red lips, whose brains are later shared by the Undead.
“Ok, knock it off. Bailor says we need to fix something, we need to fix it.”
This deep voice, OFF-SCREEN, is Captain Space Hunk who, we eventually learn, has the hunk DNA that makes him immune to the zombie virus.
Smart-mouthed girl Space Expert shrugs and goes to door to doorway.
Turning to deliver a one-liner, she nearly walks into our Doctor Space Heroine, who has a forehead smoother than a newborn baby.
“It’s ok,” says Doctor Space Heroine. “The guys know what you meant to untangle.
Smart-mouthed Girl Space Expert goes off in a snit, while Doctor Space Heroine absorbs the good-natured smoldering
of Captain Space Hunk, who stands to broadcast to the audience that he is actually taller (lift) than his super-tall costar —–
The screenwriter took another sip of his now cold coffee and grimaced.
There was no way he could give his producer a regurgitation of 2001: A Space Odyssey‘s Hal 9000 entering this scenario.
Then, there was a power surge. He looked down at his computer to see the blue screen of death.
“Damnit! Space zombies! Why not Jane Austen in space?”
Hey , that wasn’t bad. Jot that down. Maybe I can pitch it to Warner. (more…)