Housewives don’t need househusbands around.
They want earners. Someone with balls.

They aren’t interested in eternity. Or next fall.
They’re worried about this afternoon’s trip to the market.

The sting of it all. The constant subtracting.
The buffer that has all but disappeared.

Nibbling the cantaloupe flesh all the way to the rind.
Steeping the tea bags for a second time.

It was just supposed to be a transition period.
But it has lasted months, nearly a year.

It’s not like she’s ignorant of unity.
But she spurns him. He can keep his drawers on.

This has been too much for worse, and not for better.
She’s not sure her fidelity can withstand this economy.

/ / /

This poem was written in response to Wordle 64 at The Sunday Whirl. I also incorporated buffer, transition, and unity from Three Word Wednesday.

I’m about to leave California for two weeks to visit Ohio and Baltimore. I’m uncertain how much I’ll be online. I will have my laptop with me and my iPhone, but I make no promises about posting while I’m on vacation. I’ll be writing, of course, but may not be posting until I return. I hope all you wonderful people are having a good summer. Thanks for visiting my blog; I truly appreciate it.



The fog does not come
on little cat-feet here.

It flows down
the leeward side.

The foothills are lenient,
letting the fog rise,

summit, and then descend.
They do not struggle

with each other,
nor is it a dance.

If there is resistance,
it is natural.

No human word
does it justice.

/ / /

This poem was written in response to the prompt from Three Word Wednesday using fog, lenient, and struggle.

The Sky

Fog clings to foothills
unwilling to descend
into the valley

Wisps of fog
I’m taken with how
they disappear

The fog murmurs
before it’s invisible
listen to it

/ / /

These haiku/senyru were written in response to an idea about looking at the sky. I incorporated words from Three Word Wednesday: cling, murmur, and taken. They are also an unintentional response to the water, water everywhere prompt from Poetic Bloomings.

The Couple

he comes home late
and all he can do is complain
about the damp laundry

she thinks
but the clothes are clean
can’t you see that

she holds her anger in
and he is incensed

she wants to avoid conflict
he wants to fight

he is tired
and feels trapped
in her domesticity

she is tired
of his errant ways
his car the symbol of that

and the skid marks
he leaves on her soul

she’s not sure
how much more
she can endure

/ / /

This poem was written using the theme of endure from One Single Impression incorporating damp, incensed, and skid from Three Word Wednesday. It is also a response to the cocktail of words prompt from We Write Poems.

I also offer it as my acceptance of the Perfect Poet Award for week 46 from Promising Poets’ Poetry Cafe. I nominate Henry Clemmons, who blogs at The UnderSide of Green.


it’s difficult sometimes
to know if what I do
is aligned with my priorities

life is erratic
like it’s charting a course for me
that doesn’t seem guided
by fate or design

I look for omens
signs to show me
that I’m doing the right things

even the occasional bad omen would be okay
something to fight against
an obstacle giving me
a short-term goal to focus on
something to measure myself by

but the fact is I don’t believe in omens
signs from above or below
what’s here and now
in the middle matters

teaching young people
writing poems
making my small portion
of this erratic life
brighter and more beautiful

at least I think so
that’s the question I started with
isn’t it?

but then I look
at my boys
and see what is reflected
in their luminous eyes

and everything seems
true and good
what I know
and what I do
the things that are me
appear congruent

and I wonder
why I question myself at all

I should take that
as a good omen

/ / /

This poem was written for the cocktail of words prompt at We Write Poems. I used the priorities prompt from Poetic Asides and erratic, luminous, and omen from Three Word Wednesday.

A special “Thank you” to the great people at We Write Poems for using my prompt idea this past week. I enjoy writing to their prompts and being a part of their community. I am looking forward to seeing what others have written.

The Young Hero

The young Hero was foolish
to act with such relish
in his own power.

He did not stop to think
of mercy because his mind
was set on justice.

It was the old Villain,
in his death, who taught
him his foolish ways.

He whispered to the Hero
as he died: I would
have granted you mercy.

/ / /

This poem was written in response to a prompt at Three Word Wednesday: foolish, mercy, relish.

Making Vegan Burgers

Getting the water just the right
temperature for the cool
dorsum and the warmer palm,
then the liquid soap,
antibacterial or not, to cleanse.

Feeling calmer now, measuring
out the ingredients into the curve
of the bowl, no anticipation,
just action, kneading the gluten
with clean hands and a clear mind.

Forming the burger patties,
ready for the spring grill,
I notice that my anger
has melted away, and I have made
food for my family with love.

/ / /

This poem was written in response to a prompt from Three Word Wednesday: cleanse, knead, and melt.

This is the third of four poems I wrote over the last week for Three Word Wednesday. Number four will be along tomorrow, and then I’ll be taking a short break. My school year ends on Friday, May 27. I have to finish grading papers and I haven’t even started on report cards yet. Once my summer vacation starts, I will be much more active here, and I promise to get caught up reading and commenting on your poems.

Today also happens to be my younger son’s seventh birthday. (Happy birthday, Aidan!) He likes my vegan burgers, and he likes helping me in the kitchen to make them.

Tonic Town

i wanted to surrender
to love of grace
but she made it so hard

she would thin her gin
her evening meal
every day except sunday
she didn’t eat at all
on sundays
which is how
she stayed so thin

god, she was beautiful

empty calories
for an empty heart
that i wanted to fill

my better self wanted
to fill it with love
my baser self just wanted
to fill it
with a need for me

and she smelled so fine
that i was rarely thin
when i was near her
i would say her scent
was intoxicating
but that would give
the wrong impression

i joked that she had
surrendered to grace
the baser grace
that was a mirror of me
but it wasn’t funny

a jigger of this
a jigger of that
then the jitters set in

i wanted to surrender
to grace
but i didn’t

she had already
surrendered herself
to something greater
than me

i’m sorry, grace
that i couldn’t save you
from your surrender

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the Take the driver’s seat! prompt at We Write Poems:

First consider what prompt would be an interesting and challenging prompt for you, including then what you think would be good for the group. Then 1) write a brief paragraph describing the poem prompt itself, and 2) go ahead and write your own poem to that prompt.

For my poem, I used surrender as the theme from Sunday Scribblings, and grace, thin, and jitter from Three Word Wednesday.

So, here’s my prompt:

One, select a prompt from a site like Poetic Asides, Writer’s Island, Sunday Scribblings, or One Single Impression. This will be the topic or theme of your poem. Two, select some words from a site like Three Word Wednesday or a wordling whirl of Sundays. Now, consider your theme/topic and your words. See if those words will help you explore or expand on your theme, or see if your topic opens up, leading down unexpected avenues, as you play with those words. Trust your poetic intuition and imagination. You could choose prompts that you haven’t previously responded to, or revisit ones you’ve already done, or find a prompt that previously stumped you, and see if this take on it will help you get a poem written.

Public School Teachers

We brandish respect
and knowledge
for we are mighty inside.

We forbid no one.
All are welcome
to enter and learn.

We manage this daily
with little compensation
and little complaint.

I challenge you to do the same.

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to a prompt at Three Word Wednesday: brandish, forbid, and manage.

Paula suggested that this poem might work for the Poetic Asides prompt to write a telling it like it is poem. I agree. Thanks, Paula.