The Cell Phone Lament, A Cautionary Tale--Limerick

Okay. In honor of Ireland, where I am right now, here's a limerick:

THE CELL PHONE LAMENT
There was a young woman from Ar'zona
Who could not put down her cell phone-a
She texted when light
And into the night
A cell phone-aholic fide-bona

One day she was texting her Sweetie
Conversations while driving, so meaty
She neglected to see
Two dogs and a tree
Now from hospital she is still tweety

If no fortitude have you, or no will
To, while you are driving, your phone still
Please pull to the side
Or from me you'll hide
Make you swallow your phone like a pain pill

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy
If you would like to learn about National Poetry Month, visit this site while I'm visiting Ireland...:o)

Girl Lost--Free Verse Poem

This is another freestyle poem for Poetry Month.

Girl Lost

She once

Was a person

oo Someone oo 
oooo  You  oooo

ooooLovedoooo

oooBut nowooo

ooo Floating Form  less

ooo  ooShe is nothingoo ooo

She   ooohas no anchorooo  ooo

ooo        No guy ropes         ooo

ooo                  No sail                 ooo

ooo               Or rudder                ooo

Just a hole

Where her heart 

once    lived

You don't    need her.

You don't     want her.

Inertia keeps       you here.

But inertia           is weak

And the             current?

Luckily             for her

There is          none now.

oooo              oooo

oooooo              oooooo

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

Stumble On--ABAB Poem

This is a random poem I did (because it came to mind and wouldn't vacate until I put it down), of the ABAB type.

STUMBLE ON

Stumble on, fair pilgrim, trudging into the night

For morning awaits on the moon's other side

The bleak winter's road, full of pain and spite

Breaks into Spring and, Fear, woe betide

Gird yourself freshly, with courage and grit

Take heart from these challenges, lessons of pain

The things you are learning will bolster your wit

You think yourself harried to Hell and again

For each other pilgrim must travel his road

Must deal with the stickers, the stones, and the heat

Must hobble onward, himself must he goad

Fearing he'll falter, fall down, and be beat

He fears his friends and his children and wife

Will forsake and abandon him while on his way

And they may, for the choosing is part of this life

There is but to fall to his knees, now, and pray

Stumble on, fair pilgrim, but know at your side

Is the Builder of worlds and the Maker of man 

Hold your head up high, He's along for the ride

And know He believes in you, and that you can.

For the darkness can't linger when e're there's light

The Builder has figured this fact in His plan

And Evil can never prevail against Right

It's part of the priceless Salvation of man

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

In Praise of Honey Badgers--Poetweet

He's all brains&fangs/Has hunger pangs/4 lions&hippos&snakes&thangs/Killer bees R the guys w/whom he hangs/I'm glad he can't use boomerangs!

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

So this is a Poetweet and I wanted to make sure it worked right on Twitter. Hope it did. If you'd like to know more about Poetweets, go here. If you'd like to know more about honey badgers, there are some great vids on Youtube about them. They're fascinating little creatures and have my deepest respect. You don't mess with these guys and walk away un-mangled.

The Road to Australia--ABAB Poem

Here's an ABAB poem to profer for the end of National Poetry Month. This one is tongue firmly in cheek, so don't by any means get offended.

THE ROAD TO AUSTRALIA
There's a sign on the road to Australia
It says you get no handouts there
I'm eagerly waiting and watching
For someone to take their bold dare

Australians are known for their chutzpah
Won't take any guff from you
They'll just firmly ask you to vacate
Or they'll toss you out into the stew.

The most poisonous animals live there
And the real ones are poisonous too
Though most of them wonderful people
If you cross them, they'll flatten you

Oh the road to Australia spells hazard
It's rugged and wat'ry and wet
But if you are brainless and lazy
You are welcome to honor my bet. 
© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy
For more information on National Poetry Month, check out this site. She may have already decided on a different poetry type today, but I'm not here to see that. I'm on my way to Ireland! (I hope the link works since I pre-linked it.)

SAIL!--Diatelle Poem

Of all the wacky Poem forms, today is the wackiest and, so far, the hardest. For this you are going to want to go to Stephanie's blog and check out how to do a "Diatelle" poem. This was hard enough I'm only doing one...;o)

Sail

So free 

On the sea

Wind at your back

The sun sparking gently

Tips waves with gold, warming your back 

You taste the salt wind and watch for storm wrack

Your craft slices through the waves beneath clouds so pail 

The breeze whistles through the white shrouds and tack 

Soon you make about and go back

How you love finding lea

Come about. Tack!

Soaking me

Swiftly

Bail! 

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

Good luck with your Diatelle!

Dust--ABCB Poem

Here's an ABCB Poem For National Poetry Month. I think you'll agree with my sentiments...'cause who likes dusting?

 DUST BUNNIES

Everywhere in the house I go

Dust coats all with jackets gray

Like ball gown gloves it coats the books

Motes cavort in sunbeams fey

It blankets the shelves in silent calm
And rolls about beneath the bed
I turn around from dusting all
To find more of the dust I dread.

Dusting is clearly a thankless job

I turn around and it's back again

Will this aggravation end?

Wiping wiping, such a pain

That's how I used to think of dust

It got into my very head

So now I let it lie in peace 
For dust will be there when I'm dead

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

Eire--Rictameter Poem

Today, on this %@*&$ buggy day I'm doing a Rictameter poem if I can ever make the stinking thing work. Here you go. If it looks rotten, it's the stinking site's fault because I've deleted this whole page three times now and started over. I hope it's worth it...:o)

Eire

Land of forebears

You call with green velvet

Your history romances me

I come to walk your shores and seek my dead

To find the places where they lie

To breathe their forgotten

Heartfelt stories

Ireland   

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

If you'd like to try a Rictameter Poem yourself, this is the site to try. Have a lovely day! 

A Choice, a Shirt, and a Stack of Pancakes--Pensee Poem

It's pensee poem day in National Poetry Month (at least for me).

Laundry

Fragrant with soap

Dances in the morning breeze

But against the moon, macabre.

In the basket? Not.

Daughter

Winsome and lithe

Fork in the road confronts her

Will she relax her grip and let

Her elder grow up?

Pancakes
Luscious syrup
Oozes down the yummy stack
Do I cut you in wheel spokes or
Just fold and gulp you?

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

If you want to know more about Pensee poems, here is the place to look. Enjoy the trip!

For My Son--Free Verse Poem

This is a free verse poem for National Poetry Month. Sorry, I don't write on Sunday. So my limerick is up for the last day of the month since I'll be in Ireland...in Limerick...:o) Instead, this is free verse:

For My Son

I don't know if you realize

How you've pinned me to the world

With your potent hugs,

The care in your eyes,

And the way my words sound

In your ears.

You bump me back into 

My groove,

The one I've been carving

Since I was younger 

Than you.

You tell me

With that hundred and fifty watt smile

Of yours,

In a way that sings in my heart

And makes my life more like chocolate

And less like sand burrs.

If only you knew how I 

Watch you sleep

And how close to the surface

Are the tears which 

Tie you to me 

Forever

Hope lives in you,

Takes root and blooms,

The flowers fragrant 

And everliving.

You are beautiful 

In white.

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

To Sleep Perchance to Dream--Quinzain

Today is quinzain day. And it's also talk like Shakespeare Day. I'm combining the two in this quinzain on sleep, or the lack thereof:

TO SLEEP, PERCHANCE TO DREAM

Curtain of the day drift down

O'er my questing eyes

Oh to sleep

Sleep eludeth me ever

My mind speedeth on

Rise the moon

Moon sails on, splendor alight

Put small thoughts to bed 

Die away

Away players from the stage 

Flee into the night

Avaunt ye

Ye must needs clear the mind's way

For a brave new troupe

Bold new thoughts

Thoughts, rise up like birds, reach heights

As the sun rises

Lift, curtain

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

Heh. I played tag with the last word of each quinzain. For the instructions on how to write your own quinzain, visit Stephanie at this site.

Earth Colors--Couplets

It's Earth Day. And while I know global warming is a crock of steaming manure, I do still appreciate the world God has given us. So I'll honor His gift with a poem:

Indigo is for the sky just before the dawn

Pink is for the yummy flesh of salmon, bass, and prawn

Red is for poinsettia, hibiscus, poppy, rose

Green is for the grass I wish I watered with a hose

Orange is for traffic cones bordering brown holes

Brown is for the fur of deer and muskrats, mink, and moles

Yellow makes me happy, with sunflow'rs bright with gold

Blue is for the rolling waves I ride when I go surfin' bold.

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

If you would like to know more about couplets or Earth Day poems, visit this site. And remember, pick up your trash.

Poem in Your Pocket Day!

It's Poem in Your Pocket Day today, amidst National Poetry Day. I think I'll write several poems of different types in honor of the day.

Here's a haiku:

CHEERIO GUZZLER
He noses the ground
My dog loves those cheerios
Search well, little dog

Here's an ABAB Poem:

 

PACK ATTACK

I'm going to Ireland

So freaked, I can't wait

I'm already packed

I've saved the date

I've brought many things

To trade with  the natives

Scout patches and clothes

I'm being creative

I've crammed my suitcase

And sometimes I wonder

If, with all that junk,

I'm making a blunder

At the end of the day

Will people just chuckle

When my giant suitcase

Won't zip up or buckle?

This is a Free Verse Poem I wrote for those women out there who keep lonely, silent vigil:

BRIDGES

She lies in her bed at night

Next to a stranger

Who lives in her husband's skin,

Remembering what once was

And now is not. 

She wants him back--

The long ago him

Whose eyes lit up

When she came near

Who longed to cuddle on the couch

And go places together

Who spoke of dreams 

And planned with her,

Him, the father of her children,

Her knight in rusty armor.

She wants to reach out

To tell him why

They are so far apart

But there is no bridge.

He has gently walled off

His end

With computer keys

And push button kisses, 

Kind (or unkind) refusals,

And perhaps thoughts

Of another woman
Separate, always separate,

Just 1 and 1 with

No plus sign in the middle.

And there is no time

For deep conversations now.

Those they have, only seem to end

In vitriole

And spite. 

She's the Eternal wrong, now.

The less than.

When did that happen?

"So talk," he thunders.

What can she say to that?

His ears are closed.

His heart is dusty.

He is absent,

Grown distant and icy.

She used to batter at the wall

With bleeding fists

Praying with all her might

That God would 

Make a chink in the stone.

But that doesn't mean

There will be someone on the other side 

Of the wall

To listen.

She stands silent vigil

Alone

Because she will not cut the rope 

Or burn the bridge

Or leave the wall.

"Then make me a stone," she says.

A stone in his wall or a stone on his bridge.

"Make me a stone."

For stones last.

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

For more information on Poem in Your Pocket Day, try this site. And keep your favorite poem in your pocket for a lovely day!

Happiness--Grammar Poem

Today I'm doing a Grammar Poem for National Poetry Month.

HAPPINESS

Fleeting and elusive

Everyone searches for that precious commodity

Like trying to grasp the golden ring on the Merry-go-round

If only they realized it's littered along the trail in tiny, perfect moments

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy
 If you would like to find out how to write a Grammar Poem, visit this site.