poemcrazy collection – Page 3

grocery weeping

Backstory:
Seven bags unpacked,
Sifted through.
No flour. None.
The one thing now to be missed—
Homemade birthday cake.

^{Poem title from chapter 42 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.}

I learned about the shadorma during last year’s National Poetry Writing Month. It’s such a lovely poetic form to work with, I not only fulfilled the prompt but wrote a number of other shadormas, including this one. Peace to your ♥!

gas, food, longing

Again I ask the question why,
And hear her silence in reply.
I grip the wheel and give a sigh,
And let the exit pass me by.

I know the things a man can buy,
A tank of gas, a slice of pie.
I grip the wheel and give a sigh.
Another exit passes by.

I’m driving till the tank runs dry.
I may be hungry; I won’t die.
I grip the wheel and give a sigh.
I’m gonna miss her cherry pie.

^{Poem title from chapter 6 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.}

A poem to be read slowly, with a country drawl. Peace to your ♥!

the answer squash

The winter squash you bought can tell you if it’s ripe or not:

   1.	 Hold the squash to your ear to help you hear.

   2.	 Press a fingernail through its flesh,
         but apologize first for being fresh.

   3.	 Short answer: 

         If it doesn’t resist when you press,
         the answer is no; otherwise, yes.

         Long answer:

         If it doesn’t accept your apology,
         the squash is immature. Let it be.
         If it accepts with good grace,
         it’s ripe. Feel free to embrace.

   4.   If you’re still unsure if your squash is a winner,
         you should cook another vegetable for dinner.

^{Poem title from chapter 4 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.}

Peace to your ♥!

misfits’ castle of lightning

come at top speed
digital dragon in dungeon
with hard byte and technoflame
need a gigabit of protection
and firewall upgrade

^{Poem title from chapter 35 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.}

I continue to post poems from my poemcrazy project, in which I wrote a separate poem for each chapter title in the book of that name by Susan G. Wooldridge. Some chapter titles were more challenging than others. For this one I used the the Geek Magnetic Poetry Kit at play.magneticpoetry.com. Peace to your ♥!

hi there stars

I enjoy writing the occasional graphic poem and hope you like this one. Peace to your ♥ and happy 2022!

^{Poem title from chapter 26 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.}

lying to tell the truth

This is a gray area for me
and I would rather write
about things that are
black-and-white
like penguins
and zebras
and even
skunks.

^{Poem title from chapter 19 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.}

Peace to your ♥!

Home Song

A little house, a little song,
A little family all day long.

One father to wake up the light,
One mother to kiss all goodnight.

One little girl, one little boy,
A little home, a lot of joy.

^{Poem title from chapter 50 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge}

Peace to your ♥!

naming wild hippo

Pity the poor hippopotamus
Who had a rash on his bottomus.
Bright red bumps
On his gray rump
Earned him the name Polkadotamus.

^{Poem title from chapter 9 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.}

One from my poemcrazy project. Peace to your ♥!

opening shots

There will be three:
   the forest of gentle menace,
   the atrium of white silence,
   the sea of blue chairs.
The viewer will notice first:
   the denuded spires of the trees,
   the billowing of the marble arches,
   the methodical stacking of the chairs.
And as the camera pans out:
   the pockmarked snow,
   the solitary white chair,
   the blue of the sea.

^{Poem title from chapter 11 of Poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.}

I based this poem on three photos selected from the @SpaceLiminalBot Twitter account. Peace to your ♥!

Joywriting / Controlled Abandon

Companion poems from my poemcrazy project. Peace to your ♥!

Joywriting

With swoop and soar, with whoop and cry,
Fly, Icarus, fly!

An eagle with a glinting eye,
High, Icarus, high!

I write my name across the sky,
I, Icarus, I!

Controlled Abandon

Too far ahead, too high, my Icarus.
My heart beat fast to see him swoop and soar.
My wings trembled for him. And when he plunged,
I tore my eyes away. Ah, Icarus!
My golden boy! You overshot your wings;
I flew my steady course. And both too late
In life to master now the middle way
Of utter unincinerating joy.

^{Poem titles from chapters 43 and 46 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.}