While You’re In A Poetry Mood

While you’re in a poetry mood

drink whiskey from a blue tin cup

and eat up the wagon trail stars.

Let the distant coyotes

of traffic and tax collectors

fade into a song of leaves.

Let your poems leap the tall campfires

you’ve been stoking since you were born.

Let fiddles dance on plates of beans.

Soon enough your toaster will fly

out the window, your tv out the door

and summer out a hole in your sock.

Soon enough a frost of telemarketers

will knock from inside your pantry door

asking where your retirement tea is.

So, let the world know you’re in a poetry mood

and you’re planning to resume the dishes and dust

after you’ve sailed a few more words on the wind.

Got poetry? Love poetry? dVerse is THE place!

Share a poem for Open Link Night. The Mister Linky Frenzy starts each Tuesday at 3:00 EST.

Amazing night sky photo above attrubuted to Mountain Wander.

If There’s A Smell Of Pancakes In The House

If there’s a smell of pancakes in the house

and the chirp of some news commentator

in a room where kittens fandango,

____________

if there’s a sun just pounced over the trees

and twenty-nine bored dogs around the hood

longing for something, anything to happen,

____________

if there’s a lonely coffee pot eager to be

understood and bring another round of

pulsing power to a schoolbus morning,

____________

if there are poets scattered over the planet

rolling down their blog awnings for the day

and scraping the mold off their jpegs,

____________

if there are love letters sitting in mailboxes

for happy postmen and postladies to collect

and deliver to hearts that have sleepwalked,

____________

if there’s a smell of pancakes in the house

and lovers skinny-dipping somewhere,

all’s well in the world and always will be.

Got poetry? Love poetry? dVerse is the poetry place!

Open Link Tuesday goes live weekly at 3:00 EST.

xoxoxxoxooxo

gorgeous mailbox with spring blooms by Photos For Days.

The Man With Sunset Eyes…

he who’s been shaking poems into the seaweed all day,

is oblivious to the splotch of professional photographers

rolling their expensive eyes at each other over the little

point-and-shoot he made from laughter and airplane wings.

The man hoists the ocean, clouds and pelicans into position,

fluffs up the sky’s pillows, billows his cape, and raises his wand

to pause the breath of heaven’s violins a moment for you.

~~~ end of poem

Our esteemed blogging buddy, the lovable, caring and fun-filled Dr. J. of Calorie Lab, snapped that through his Serengeti sunglasses on Florida’s Cedar Key one New Year’s Eve. And won a photo contest with it!

Dr. J. flies a Cherokee Arrow 200 for fun.

Got poetry? Love poetry? dVerse is da poetry castle!

Open Link Tuesday, live weekly at 3:00 EST.

Over and out.

Now… get on to some more blogs, you. 🙂

The Prodigal Blogger

After days spent ambling

mostly peaceful backroads

of familial forest and field

——————————

the prodigal commenter

taps her blog blinker and zips

onto the freeway of friends

————————–

she hopes will smilingly wave and

welcome her back into their lanes,

all sins of her absence absolved.

Photo effects are “sunburst” illumination and geometric “spherize” in Corel’s Paint Pro.

Posted for dVerse Poetry, Open Link Tuesday — weekly at 3:00 EST.

Thanks for your comments. I’ll be around to your blogs with a glass of wine soon, whoohoooo.

xoxo

When Bob Jumped Off The Garage Roof With Delilah

They say Bob sported only
a limestone ascot that night.
Delilah was nude too, save for
her boa of lit birthday candles
and boots of Spanish leather.

— nice boots, with Samson’s
biceps tooled onto the thighs
and scrapbooks of his broken
ukulele and his grandmother’s
strudel carved into the soles.

Anyway…

As Bob and Delilah, holding hands,
plunged into a vat of stray cats,
they cringed at the landing sure
to hurt more than a guided tour
of the Early Dentistry Museum.

Yes, a place with photos like this…

But lo and William be Holden,
their fall was broken by a magic
carpet ride of lumberjack poems
whisking them safely to Danny’s
for a nightcap of caramel stew.

Danny’s, with patrons pretty-much
naked too except for fluffy crowns
of Russian flash-dancing squirrels
and socks knit from curtains of sky,
Bob and Delilah felt right at home.

Meanwhile Samson, chain-smoking
American Spirits back on the roof,
broke into the most heartbreaking
version of “Why, why, why, Delilah?”
since Tom Jones lassoed the moon.

~~~ end of poem.

(Sorry this poem is so nuts. Can you ever forgive me?) 🙂

Got poetry? Love poetry? dVerse is Da Poetry Bomb!

Open Link Tuesday goes live weekly at 3:00 EST, whoooohoooo.

Flashdancing squirrels from Rose Is Rose

No stray cats were hurt in the making of this or any other of my poems. 🙂