Poem and One-Liner Wednesday

I’m not getting any good poem ideas yet today, so here is an old one from a couple of weeks ago, not yet shared on my blog. First, I have a random one-liner for Linda G. Hill’s one-liner Wednesday today. πŸ™‚


When life gives you lemons…
use them to keep your apples from turning brown. πŸ˜€

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Well-Wishes

An unprompted poem that I wrote yesterday and today.


Filled with fresh water, waiting

For a coin to be cast, a wish
Swished into the stone well,

A last-ditch effort to reify
Some happiness, to satisfy.
A certain well-wish. That’s all I want.

antique bills business cash
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Differences

Today’s SoCS prompt from Linda G. Hill is “difference.” Because I really like math, one of the first things I thought of is that “difference” is the answer to a subtraction problem. πŸ™‚Β  Then I wrote this, which I think counts as a cherita.


The answer to a subtraction problem —

How much has changed, to make life
Foreign and strange, yet better in some ways?

What has been taken away?
Do not forget how much is left:
What has made a positive difference?

In(tro)spection

This is a cherita and was inspired by Writing Wednesday, FOWC: Deteriorate, and this prompt about what is urgent. It’s ironic because I don’t drive and therefore do not have to deal with any “check -engine” lights; however, my human equivalent of a check-engine light is always trying to get my attention. πŸ™‚


If a car’s ‘check-engine’ light is on,

It merits a closer inspection, urgently done,
Before the vehicle deteriorates more.

The human form of a ‘check-engine’ light
Might signify a need for sleep or fuel.
To risk terribly crashing is not cool.

What a Tangled Web We Weave

This is a reverse cherita inspired by several prompts and my need to use dark humor to cope with darker happenings. πŸ™‚Β 
MLMM’s Tale Weaver: Basket Case
JusJoJan day 8: Twisted
Poetry Prompt: Scattered


I cannot remember all the scattered pieces,
Each and every fragment of fiber woven,
Twisted, made into this locked and loaded

Container held harrowingly in the hand of some
Demonic monster carrying 300 million people.

Where are we going and why are we in this handbasket?

We Are Teachers to Our Grandchildren

This is for DVerse Poetics. I was going to write something else to post, but the ideas are not coming, so here’s one that I wrote yesterday. We are responding to titles that Sarah provided for us. I responded to the one that is the title of this post. The form is like a cherita, but in reverse.


Grandma taught me how to bake sugar cookies.
Grandpa taught me that once you turn 80
No one can tell you you can’t eat ice cream nightly.

They taught me family history from past centuries,
And how not to freeze in the snow, a foreign thing

To these California sensibilities — gone crazy.