Strange Metamorphosis

The world is ending. 

Hard to accept 

The world is looking 

Kafkaesque, and 

Its course is getting 



Will cockroaches overrun

Once microbes are done?


The world is ending.


Except, not now.

So let’s linger

Over a cold brew,

Talk ’til it’s all gone. 

brown wooden chairs and table
Photo by Anastasia Shuraeva on

Another quadrille for DVerse, plus I’m responding to FOWC and MLMM’s Saturday Mix: Double Take. Also, there’s something about those chairs and the focus of that photo that I really like. 


A stream-of-consciousness cherita for SoCS: Puzzle and also for FOWC: Between.

A puzzle: choosing between two options.

They both have potential happiness and drawbacks,
Difficult to compare which is better or worse

They are just different. And even small differences now
Can lead to a wildly changed life, later down
The road, which hopefully goes to a happy home.



This is for Linda G. Hill’s SoCS; the prompt word is “where.”

Where is the map?
The map which shows where to go,
Where to go now,
Now that the world is upside-down?

Down go the emotions,
Emotions as volatile as the world unpredictable

Has become — where is this map
Map that no one has?

Uncomfortable Truth

For FOWC: Macabre.

“Memento Mori” isn’t always too macabre
But it is truth we’d rather not touch.
A stack of books with skull atop
Reminds that one will never read so much,
And what’s the use if knowledge isn’t used?
“Memento Mori” means we’re not confused
About all of mankind’s eventual end,
Nor the type of life to which we ought to tend.

white skull on white wooden table
Photo by cottonbro on

The Follower

I wasn’t going to post this, but what the heck; here is my response to the MVB prompt: Follower.
Note: in the poem I say “4 or 6 weeks” — that’s the amount of time between severe depressive symptoms. The milder yet no less discouraging (sometimes devastating) symptoms happen 5 or 6 days a week for me. That’s not to say every moment of those harder days is terrible; I often have sincere gratitude for several things by the time the day is over. But it’s really hard, if I’m being honest.
Anyway, on to the poem! This is free-verse.

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Ode to My Old Phone

Inspired by FOWC: Blunt, my vivid blog prompt: Precious, and the fact that I had to get a new phone the other day.

Faithfully serving for over six years,
Needing a new one almost brings tears.

Though to be blunt it was certainly dying,
It was equally such a precious thing.

We had been through so much together,
The camera snapping memories; whether

Or not I wish, an upgrade is necessary,
A new cell phone, more memories to carry.

Flashback Friday: Grant Us Peace

For Fandango’s Flashback Friday, I am sharing a haibun that I wrote 3 years ago, since August 6th is both the anniversary of the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan, and it is the feast of the Transfiguration, when Jesus goes up on a mountain with Peter, James, and John and is “transfigured” so that they are briefly able to see Jesus’s divinity revealed. The original post is here.

In an island nation in the Pacific, a city is transfigured in a flash of light — complete destruction in an instant.

On a mountain in the Middle East, Jesus is transfigured in a flash of light — our hope of glory and eternal life.

Oh God, transfigure hearts — that we may find and bring peace.

Change may come slowly:
Tiny blossoms’ aroma,
While snowfall lingers