This post is in response to SoCS today. We are supposed to write about whatever is next to us when we read the prompt. Update: I am also sharing this with the wonderful Writers’ Pantry.
Cradled close to me
Is my warm, strong coffee,
Beside me a book of
Puzzles — sudoku —
Tough enough to be fun
But not impossible —
How I wish
This current crisis
Could quickly be fixed,
Like putting numbers
In a 9 – by – 9 grid.
The picture is of my sudoku book, open to the next puzzle!
This haibun-ish poem is written in response to DVerse Poetics “now I can see” prompt. Follow the link for more information and many responses.Note: I wasn’t sure what to write for this prompt, but then my friend bought me coffee beans and left them on the porch with a nice little note.
When the barn has burned down,
oh, you can see the moon!
When the structure has crumbled,
soon, naturally, you can see peace.
When the churches are closed,
you realize more deeply, what
Jesus means by, “I am with you always.”
When we must stay far apart,
we find new ways to share our heart.
morning, a surprise:
friendship grows through coffee gift
outside on the porch
Today at DVerse Poetics, we are sharing poems that include taboo subjects. I wrote this cherita this morning before reading the prompt, but I think it is fitting, even though I intended this to be humorous, not serious, Nevertheless, it is a true story! Gasp!
I would sneak off to go to Mass.
One time, I jaywalked, while getting
High on sugar, from a Slurpee.
I take my coffee black,
And I have been known
To drink it from a teacup.
This is a tribute to one of my good friends, a little late for the prompt at Poets United, but still worth posting.
When the morning seems a little bleak,
If we meet, and over cups of coffee
Talk about most anything — not only
My difficulties but your life and His
Resurrection — you, my friend,
Your very presence is good medicine.
At DVerse, we are asking, “What day is it anyway?”. This poem was inspired by my usual Thursday schedule, since I have all morning to myself that day. I go to work in the afternoon and evening on Thursdays but wanted to ignore that in my poem. 🙂
Thursday I will lose myself
In several types of books.
I will swim in a coffee cup
And be inwardly warmed up.
May the morning wake refreshed
And beautifully stretch.
It is JusJoJan day 2! We are prompted to write about a photo taken in the past week. This was taken the afternoon of December 31st, when I went to Starbucks to write and read. It was quite a productive time, since I wrote several poems and finished reading a book! In the photo, you can see my poetry notebook and a glimpse of what I have been writing.
I might as well share the poem with you!
Water to wine on a wedding day,
Jesus cares for their celebration.
When joy is fleeting forget not to pray,
For the Lord cares for His creation.
Cana cradled a miracle, bringing joy
To the heart of every attendee;
May Jesus His power mercifully employ,
To bring joy to man, and reminders to me.
This is for Linda G. Hill’s Stream-of-Consciousness Saturday, and the prompt word is “blue.”
Sitting here in a coffee shop, I see no blue object to write about. Except my own poetry notebook, which has a dark-blue cover. It is an old book, repurposed. It used to be an old novel called The House of a Thousand Candles. In this iteration, it has been reincarnated as a notebook, filled with blank pages, but some of the story’s pages have also been retained. It makes me wish that I could read the whole story.
Candles only light so much,
Frank Tassone’s haikai prompt this week is autumn comtemplation (shuushi). I will contemplate this idea more later, but these are my first musings.
Brown leaf tumbles down
Crinkles, crunches underfoot
Ground has a blanket
Tree branches shivering cold
Amid changing, frigid wind
Update: Here is a haiku that is a little bit silly but also has a lot to do with autumn.
Coffee clichés come:
P.S.L. fever ignites
Milky Way swirling:
The night sky is black coffee
Made sweeter with stars.
For this haikai prompt.
I wrote a few sidlak poems over the past few days. This form, which has 4 lines of 3-5-7-9 syllables and concludes with a fifth line that is a color, has been fun. I found out about it from Abigail Gronway, who also wrote a nice one. Shared with the Tuesday Platform.
In a library,
On antique, sturdy table —
I sense the musty smell of old books
Proper meter? Rhyme?
Freedom in form anytime.
Word queen of my poetry world, hued
Oppressing like a devil,
A cardboard box, sent, undelivered: