You Are Worth More Than Many Potatoes

For FOWC: Meme. Memes are my love language, so I was really excited that this was today’s word. I am looking forward to reading everyone else’s responses!  I found this meme online this morning and wanted to share it. It’s both hilarious and legitimately inspiring at the same time.

L’image contient peut-être : nourriture, texte qui dit ’If you can do all this with a potato, think of all God can do with you @litcathol cmemes’


Day 15 of JusJoJan is themed, “button.” All I could think about was the expression “cute as a button.” My mom used to make photo albums (she still does, usually on the computer, though), and I remember seeing a page from when I was 2 or 3 years old, and I was probably 8 or 9 at the time. On the page was a cutout of a pink button with that phrase next to it.

My very literal, 8-year-old brain was perplexed by that, so I asked my mom, “Why does it say, ‘Cute as a button? Buttons aren’t cute.”

“It’s an expression,” she tried to explain.

Undeterred, I insisted, “But why?????

I don’t remember how that situation resolved, but my mom certainly had a lot of patience with little Jenna. She may have gotten annoyed at my persistent questions (asking the questions that really matter, hahaha), but at least I was cute. 🙂

This post basically turned into an SoCS-style post, due to the fact that writing a poem about buttons proved impossible for me today. 🙂

Boiling and Freezing. And Cheese.

For JusJoJan day 10, FOWC: Liquid, and also shared with the first Writers’ Pantry of the year, I have a poem that ended up being rather silly.

How many of us are filled to the brim,
Fatigued from fate’s capricious whims?

How many feel like their blood boils,
Are disappointed, despite their toils?

A cold glass of water, with crushed ice,
Then a generous glass of wine, would be nice.

Maybe instead of only saying “Cheese,”
We can eat some with delicacies.

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. 🙂 
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?

Eggy Inspiration

Linda gave us quite an interesting (dare I say…eggciting   sorry not sorry) prompt for this week’s paint-chip poetry:

Fried eggs over-easy:
Yolks like a puddle
Color of sun rays
Or even a tangerine —
Dream of this breakfast
Outside, under vintage-
Turquoise skies…

No, this type I despise!

Author’s note: I don’t like it when the yolks are really runny. Also, I just realized that this is the second time I have written about eggs for this paint-chip poetry prompt. That’s odd.

The Onus of a List

Some people like to-do lists. Not me. I find the onus of having several tasks to do enough, thank you! Making a to-do list simply adds one more task to the list in my head (which sometimes feels a mile long, but thankfully I have a decent memory, so I usually don’t forget about anything that needs to be done). Well, I might forget, but if that happens, then I remember again soon enough, before it gets to be too late.

Okay that’s two things off of my mental list: respond to SoCS and FOWC: Onus! Now I need to get ready for a Zoom meeting….

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.