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Mountain Sparklers

To mountain high
old star appears
spiraling out of the sky,

“Shine like a sparkler.
Be who you are.”

In a spray
of light flakes,
Mountain glows
old with wisdom
from Star, his friend.

From Star, his friend,
old with wisdom,
Mountain glows
of light flakes
like a spray.

“Be who you are.
Shine like a sparkler
spiraling out of the sky.”

Old star appears
to mountain high.

Margaret Simon, 2018

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Poetry Friday: Reverso Mountain Sparklers

October 26, 2018 by margaretsmn

At Today's Little Ditty, this month's ditty challenge has sent me for a loop. Michelle interviewed Calef Brown here, and he challenged us " Write a poem or a story about two anthropomorphized objects."

At first I tried to write about two birds on a wire, but they weren't speaking to me. Then I grabbed a bag of story starting cubes and rolled a mountain and a star. As I revised this poem, I decided to try a reverso. (See Marilyn Nelson's explanation and model poems here.) I have not been terribly successful with this form. I can't seem to make the two verses from different perspectives, but I want to be a player in the ditty game, so here it is...

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Poetry Friday: Reverso Mountain Sparklers

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At Today's Little Ditty, this month's ditty challenge has sent me for a loop. Michelle interviewed Calef Brown here, and he challenged us "Write a poem or a story about two anthropomorphized objects." At first I tried to write about two birds on a wire, but they weren't speaking to me.

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I dress up blue skies

with castles and dragons,

rabbits and spaceships,

pirates and swans,

until I grow heavy,

turn weepy and gray.

My tears rattle rooftops

and wash over lawns.

Don’t hold back your tears,

your gray weepy ways.

Let your castles collapse

and fall to my crown.

Your dragons tame fires

and quench thirsty roots.

Keep wailing and weeping,

keep soaking my ground.

--©Buffy Silverman

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You decide.
At least most pools have a slide.
NO!
Nothing beats the splashing tide,
roiling sea, soft, cooling breeze,
sunning, napping near palm trees,
building castles in wet sands,
buying ice cream at shack stands.
Hey!
Here’s what some folks just can’t stand:
no escape from all that sand.
Sand sticks to private places,
towels, food, and on our faces.
And another weird surprise...
salty sea spray stings our eyes!
Beach or pool?
No contest!
Ocean wins, the beach is best!

© Dianne Moritz, 2018

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What is this fire
that turns me pink
from a burning eye
that never blinks?

It is your friend,
the sun, up high
that tints your blush
across the sky.

Kay Jernigan McGriff 2018

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An owl, unicorn and gnome of The Enchanted Wood
No…that’s not it…they were from the hood
Tired of old stories, went looking for new ones
when they discovered a wonderful place full of books.

No…that’s not it…they were from the hood
Outside in October hiding in Halloween’s plain sight.

When they discovered a wonderful place full of books
fairy and folk tales, myths and history all under one roof.

Outside in October hiding in Halloween’s plain sight
they swooped and pranced and scurried through the door.
Fairy and folk tales, myths and history all under one roof

They could could jump into new stories galore!

They swooped and pranced and scurried in the stacks.
Owl eloped with a fine cat and sailed the high seas.

They could could jump into new stories galore.

Unicorn read about rainbows and glittering trees.

Owl eloped with a fine cat and sailed the high seas.

But what about gnome? What was there for a gnome?

Unicorn read about rainbows and glittering trees
Gnome looked and looked and wasn’t quite happy.

But what about gnome? What was there for a gnome?

A quiet little human about age five held out a hand…

Gnome looked and looked and wasn’t quite happy.
I’ll take you to where gnomes are all that, little human said.

A quiet little human of about age five held out a hand…

and led Gnome to a bright space of stories and puppets.

I’ll take you to where gnomes are all that, little human said.

Where Gnomes and children ruled all the land.

© Linda Mitchell

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Jill O’lantern stared as she contrived

a contest with a skeleton just arrived,

envisioning his apathy of the fright

he would give to youngsters this Halloween night.

She knew she’d given her life for this,

one ghostly night full of hair-raising bliss,

but also knew she had to think it through

as Bag O’ Bones rattled for his cue.

When given a breeze, his screaming yaw

and clacking bones would break the law

and scare the pants off every child,

and make Jill’s grin

seem too, too mild.

Bag O’Bones stooped to grin and greet,

whispering nothings that were not sweet,

knew he held an ace, a key

to win the shocking HATE trophy.

He’d carry it on to another place

leave without friends, without a trace.

Jill felt pleased to light her smile

till she was heaved to the compost pile,

joining friends with grinning faces

partying on from the garden places.

Old Bag O’ Bones’ could do his feat

But Jill remained a grinning treat.

Linda Baie © All Rights Reserved

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My Halloween Eve treat, story poem,  is at  http://beyondliteracylink.blogspot.com/2018/10/halloween-eve-ditty-fun.html.

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I’m a pumpkin round and fat,
sitting on the front doormat.

I’m a pumpkin tall and thin,
handsome with my longer chin.

Fat’s far better, don’t you think?
With huge eyes that wink and blink??!!

Some might say that thin is in,
but…
We’re both PERFECT when we grin!

© Dianne Moritz, 2018

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citrus family feud

lemons and limes competing

best taste in baking

lemons score with more sweetness

limes win points for tartness -draw.

Kathleen Mazurowski

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Oh my precious one, why do you fret?

How much easier can your life get?

With my nourishment, you're big and red.

My branch holds you up high overhead.

I am tethered, no freedom allowed.

How I long to be one of the crowd.

Oh, if only I could get away.

I'd do wonderful things everyday.

My heart's breaking, but I'll let you go.

Thanks! Now soon I'll be rolling in dough!

Cindy Breedlove  ©2018

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Everyone warned me
I shouldn’t change my color,

my dreams, my goals.

“He has only one thing in mind,” they said.

A conquest.

But he’s so dashing,
strong, and confident.

“Don’t be fooled by that rouge,”

the breeze whispered.

Raw charisma.

I tried to ignore him.
But the sweep of his head,

his physique,

the susurrate of his fans.

His collection.

I quivered and blushed.

Shuddering, I felt myself

lose my grip.

I fell hard for that no-good,

RAKE.

© Maria Marshall, 2018

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What a mistake that was!
The Flatware family had plenty
to say about mixed marriages.

And the Dinnerware family
did, too, except they were no
longer talking to the couple.

The little dog just laughed.
What family didn't have
its share of mixed marriages?

He knew that once the spork
came with the little bundle they'd
all be up to their elbows in Joy®.

© Diane Mayr

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“I want to marry Raisin,” Almond told his mom and dad.

His mother gasped, his father frowned and said, “Have you gone mad?!

No son of mine will ever be betrothed to some raisin.

We never have, and never will believe in integration.”

“I’m nuts about her,” Almond said, “she swept me off my feet.

I know she isn’t like us, but she’s loving, kind and sweet.

Your narrow-mindedness is something I have never shared.

Just know I’m going through with this, with or without you there.”

Almond’s folks stayed home when the wedding day arrived,

but many other relatives came in from far and wide.

Grandma Macadamia, Aunt Hazel, Aunt Pecan,

two cousins from Brazil, Uncle Cashew and his clan.

Almond beamed, his sun dried bride glided down the aisle,

escorted by her Grandpa Prune, who wore a tender smile.

The happy couple said I do’s, standing hand in hand,

then partied with the Cranberries as their wedding band.

Everyone agreed it was a beautiful affair,

but bittersweet because Almond’s parents weren’t there.

© 2018 Mindy Gars Dolandis

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Join me in a dance for two
Pas de deux- yes me and you

I am but plain - not rich as you
My Cavalier - will you be true?

Your soft white peaks are safe with me
One grand jete and you shall see

This sweet duet I can’t resist
Les pas de deux - a welcome tryst

With luscious berries we’ll delight
Together we shall reach new height

Be gentle please or I may break
First we dance and then we bake

Adagio- yes nice and slow
Fold me - fold you - away we go

Releve’ - alas we rise
Light and fluffy to the skies

Yolk and White a grand selection
Sweet ballet of pure perfection

Alone we are comme ci, comme ca
Together one tres bon soufflé

2018 Janie Lazo

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Miss Chicken strutted
round the crop
of lettuce leaves and chives.
She chuckled as she pecked a bit
without a fork or knives.
Though lettuce told her not to
eat...he felt her tug and pull…
She ate some greens,
and wiped her lips,
she got her tummy full.
The next day in a pretty bowl
lettuce lay in style,
and very soon some
chicken parts
were added
and he smiled,
"Thought you’d get away with
eating little leaves of me!
Now look who is being
picked apart
and eaten -
one, two, three!"
Drizzled with some
salad dressing,
patiently through
prayer blessing,
lettuce held the chicken up
to eat -
But then defeat!
Little did he know that he was
also in the meal
and holding her end up
was not the gormandizer's deal.

by Donna JT Smith, ©2018

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Penguin stares at Peacock,

color strikes his sight.

Jealousy attacks him,

‘cause he’s just black and white.

Peacock peeks at Penguin,

feeling way too sassy.

He wishes he could wear a tux,

and seem forever classy.

~Noa Nimrodi 2018

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You're fresh out of the bag, still got the price tag on ya,

so I thought you could use a few tips from a lady

who's been around the block since before

you were a funny name in search of a color.

First of all, you are gonna LOVE your chance to shine.

(I like the part where they blow on you while you're drying.)

You get to stretch out a little bit, show 'em how tough you can be,

go see the world. You never know what's gonna happen next.

You could end up at a wedding, clapping after a first kiss --

call me a romantic, but I love that stuff -- or you could wind up

throwing his clothes on the lawn. (I kind of love that stuff, too.

When you've been in a bottle a while, high drama hits the spot.)

Sometimes she pulls you out, and you gotta bring your best gloss,

leave it all on the nail, you know? Because times are rough. Not

the fun drama, but the walking-through-doctor's-offices kind. The

on-hold-on-the-phone kind. If she looks down, you gotta give her a little sparkle.

Time can be hard on a polish. When you've been sitting in the cabinet

too long, you can forget why you're staying smooth.

It's easy to wrap around that brush and gob up.

Why not just let yourself go stiff? I'll tell you why not.

When that hand arrives for you,

you don't want to miss it.

by Tabatha Yeatts

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“Hey! Try to catch us if you can!”

they squeal, then run away

Broom dashes after valiantly

with sweeping, swashing sway

Broom’s mission is to seek Crumbs out

Their mission is to hide

beneath the fridge, behind the chair

and then to multiply

“Come on out, you scurvy creatures!

Get off our pristine floors!

We’ll sweep you to oblivion!”

her swishing bristles chorus

As they scurry ‘neath the counter

Crumbs tumble, bumble, jump

Broom pokes them out of corners, then

she piles them in a clump

She entreats her ally, Dustbin

to help her end the chase

together they corral the Crumbs

and put them in their place

A quick trip to waiting Trashcan

winds up the evening fun

Now at rest in closet corner

Broom smiles, her job is done

But later, Trashcan sneaks a glance

at dozing Bin and Broom

then slyly hiccups giggling Crumbs

and strews them cross the room

Molly Hogan ©2018

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Cough and Sneeze are a terrible two,

Wanted on charges of cold, strep, and flu.

Cough is the brawn, so victims take note,

He'll vandal your lungs and plunder your throat.

Sneeze is impulsive, the sneak of the pair,

With rash wild sprays he graffitis the air.

Their victims can often take weeks to recoup,

So lock up your doors and make lots of hot soup.

by David McMullin

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She twists and twirls
She billows and curls
She flicks up her legs
Her dance flows with grace
He breathes her in
He breathes her out
The curtains move
The breeze passes through
A love affair
Fleeting
Flitting
But never standing still.

By Angelique Pacheco

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"Oh, I am caught between two worlds!"

the window sadly cried.

"One side faces out and yet

the other is inside."

The hairbrush counseled, "Don't be blue!

Your view is crystal clear.

Your insight - and your outsight - are

both clearly valued here."

The window brushed those words aside

and, looking through the frame,

said, "All you can do is lie there -

you can't feel my pane!"

by Sarah Marhevsky

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Said Smelly Shoe

to Sparkly Shoe

way underneath the bed:

“Hey, Sparkly Shoe,

I see that you

are filled with woe and dread.

Poor Sparkly Shoe!

You’re not brand new;

you’ve lost some shimm’ry shine.

So how ‘bout you

and I make do;

become fast friends so fine?”

“No, Stinky Shoe!

A pal like you

would not fit me so well.

I’m left and you

are left, plus ew--

pee-yew! You really smell.”

“Well, fine, but you

will change your view

when Trash Can is your lair.

But you do you

and I’ll make do--

all shoes must be a pair."

…thinking….

…thinking….

…think---

“Hey!! Holey Sock!”

© 2018 Rebekah Hoeft

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by Janice Scully

The sewing was done and needle said:

“Without ME there’d be no quilt!

I’m sharp and sure from tip to eye

through batting or through silk.”

“Ah ha, you’re right,” said the sturdy thread,

“but now that the quilt is built,

Only MY job is needed now!”

(You’d find it boring anyhow.)

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Each time I tick, my heart grows sick
to see time pass so quick-quick-quick!
Is it a joke? Some kind of trick?
This life is not the one I'd pick.

With every tock, I find the clock
has barely budged. Like solid rock,
it sits there taunting, taking stock.
I wish the future would unlock!

One fateful day, the story goes,
the two were caught up in the throes
of what could never be undone—
a time warp merged them into one!

Tock would always follow Tick.
Tick would not abandon Tock.
You'd think the two would really click,
but now they bicker round the clock.

© 2018 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes. All rights reserved.
Photo credit: "Tick Tock" by Peter Nijenhuis

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In a gold gown

and a real crown,

I stand

tall

and proud,

guarding the gates of Honesty.

He

lurks around the corner,

in the shadows,

in the dark,

in a gray cloak

and a fake smile—

The Lie.

“Clear the way, Truth,” he laughs at me,

“I’m the reasonable route,

the short cut,

the easy way out.”

I point the verity-scepter,

and stare him straight in the eye.

The despicable Lie.

“No you’re not,” I say,

“you’re the danger zone,

the dead-end street,

the wrong way.”

With the scepter

I tap his crooked nose—

“If you don’t stay away

little spiteful Lie,

there’s a probable chance

that tonight

you might

die.”

He shrieks,

he shrinks,

he shrugs,

“it was worth a try.”

Then he diminishes

disintegrates

disappears,

that coward little Lie.

I stand tall

and proud

guarding the gates of Honesty.

I polish my scepter

and sigh.

He’s banished forever

the useless, incapable

impotent

little

Lie.

~Noa Nimrodi 2018

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Afraid sees shadows lurking here,

lolling there, most everywhere!

Afraid wants others to recall

they too heard scratching in the wall.

It often queries, “Whence that smell?

What’s the strange sound of a bell?”

When it goes to sleep at night,

Afraid does not turn out the light.

Brave loves shadows as they seem

like artist’s drawings in a dream.

When its ears hear something crunch,

Brave imagines tasty lunch.

It loves all sounds - the wind in trees,

the bells that ring, a person’s sneeze.

And when it’s night, and time for bed,

Brave’s lamp turned off, it rests instead.

Perhaps Afraid can grasp Brave’s hand

to help them both to understand

another way to fill a need,

a simple act that plants a seed.

Linda Baie © All Rights Reserved

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"I feel empty. Blank. Wordless.

Muse has skipped town.
H E L P !
Can you hear me?

I'm a poem in the making,

still waiting

to be.

"All that I am― yours

to pick pluck and pen.

Word play.
Listen."
"

Perplexed and confused, poem ponders,

examines each clue;
f o r w a r d s and back,

jumbled-unscrambled,
sideways
up
down

until . . . many words
spring from the one―

L   E   T   S

S   I   T

S   I   L   E   N   T

'N'

L   I   S   T   E   N

Poem in the making
is  w a i t i n g
no more.

© Cory Corrado (2018)

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L’EVOLUTON OF A POEM STARRING LETTER “L” & INTRODUCING LETTER “K” AND “M”

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L’EVOLUTON OF A POEM STARRING LETTER “L” & INTRODUCING LETTER “K” AND “M”

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Lovely letter “L” set out to compose a
List poem
But got sidetracked…
LLLLLLLLLLLLL,

He rolled the sound around in his mouth,
Looked over his shoulder, cleared his throat–
There’re too many lackeys not voting in the ‘lections.
Calling all lackeys for the last time to line up
And
Stop Lollygagging
Stop Lowbrowing
Stop Logjamming
It’s time for:
Lifting your voices
Loud and clear
Letting all know–

Pssst, Excuse me, Letter “L”
Remember you were going to introduce us…

Oh la la la la la,
Which one of you can lockup this next ‘lection–

Me cried letter “K”
I’m kooky, kinky
Never kvetchy or uh klutz,
and last
I’ll help secure your kingdom.

Look at Meeee cried letter “M”
I’m always
Longing to Link Lively
Voters to a Lifetime of
Voting!

Letter “M” please step out of line
You’ve unlocked my lonely, lingering heart.
Together we’ll unleash
New love for the ‘lections,
Together we’ll lead the voters,
Together we’ll leave all lads and lassies longing for
The politics of the left,
And law and order will
Once again lead our lovely land!
Pssst remember, pull that LEVER and VOTE!

© 2018 Michelle Kogan

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by JoAnn Early Macken

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by JoAnn Early Macken

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paper it's the eraser I don't understand

after sploting my blankness with brilliant cloaks of words

then taking them from my greany heart like they never mattered
when to me they were most beautiful
pen I thank you for the dream of skating gracefully across your whiteness
on my skates of ink twirling words like a skater
living her story for the world to see you've caught ever tear every
smile ever moment of grace the trying times too
on your pages of life
paper I love most the x's and o's you sign to those you love
to those you hope to meet
they make me look my best
sincerely your friend pen and paper -
paper and pen

poem by Jessica Bigi

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He was large and rather square
Not a handsome fellow at all
She was slender and fine
She fit into his embrace perfectly
They were made for each other
Like star crossed lovers

As Iron sharpens iron,
so the sharpener sharpens the pencil.

By Angelique Pacheco

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"Come closer," it said,
"for I must be fed.
All documents welcome, 'cause I want to SHRED."

"No, thank you," I said,
creasing with dread.
"A contract like me would prefer to stay read."

"Closer," it pled.
"N-O," I said.
"Why don't you eat that old phone book instead?"

"Tasty," it said.
"SHREDDY-SHRED-SHRED!"
That's when I slipped off the table and fled.

© Suzy Levinson 2018

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THE BINDER AND THE PIECE OF PAPER: A DIALOGUE

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THE BINDER AND THE PIECE OF PAPER: A DIALOGUE

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I am a binder—
loyal and true.
I keep loose leaf papers
looking like new.

I won’t go in there.
Rings aren’t for me.

I want to be seen.
I want to be free.

Free papers fly,
then they get tossed.
The depths of a bag
is where you’ll get lost.

I want to be useful.
My words should be read,
but the snap of your teeth
fills me with dread.

I swear it won’t hurt.
Quick! The day’s over soon!
With me you’ll be safe
(at least until June).

Elizabeth Steinglass

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(Hand)                                                             (Pen)

Ok, I’m going to write a book!                      Ummm…better take another look.

I want a novel! Let’s get started.                 I’d rather tell of trails uncharted.

Oh, bother. (sigh) Novella, then.                  I make the rules. I am the Pen.

You can’t do this! It’s not fair!                      Let’s speak of love. Desire. Despair.

A STORY. One page. Satisfied??                Not yet. Just let me be your guide.

Fine. A poem. Just help me do it!!              Ha, ha – looks like I beat you to it.

- © 2018 Matt Forrest Esenwine, all rights reserved

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Background image: Antique Victorian Trade Card (1890s)