Decision-making often is quite daunting.
Uncertainty pervades my thoughts this morning.
Two worthy causes prove persistent—haunting
my fevered mind. The one will I be scorning,
for now, is housework. Rhymes, I will be penning.
Preferring words to cleansers is not sinning!
April 28, 2023
May 1, 2023, placed 8th in Brian Strands contest 1212
Categories:
cleansers, poetry, work,
Form: Rhyme
Ah, we ladies never have enough!
Foundations in all shades.
Forever~ in new forms.
Cleansers that promise us youth.
Softeners that hide wrinkles.
Lipsticks, a source of confusion.
Creamy, matte, or gloss?
For me, it is all delusion.
A rainbow of colors for my eyelids.
Is it really me I present?
Or a manufacturers's disguise.
4/21/2021
Categories:
cleansers, allusion, beauty,
Form: Free verse
Ann left her half-done villanelle
and rushed to answer her front door.
Her husband’s mama, Kay, barged in
and growled out snarky barbs galore!
“I’ve never seen such disarray.
Ann, when--for cleansers--have you shopped?
Have you washed clothes this century?
When were these nasty floors last mopped?
Look! Dishes piled up everywhere.
Dishwasher’s broken, I suppose?
Now TELL ME why you live this way!”
You might presume they came to blows.
Ann calmly said, “This house looks good.
You should have seen it Saturday
before I started cleaning up.”
Half-conscious on the floor Kay lay.
When she came to, she tried to speak.
Her mouth moved but no words came out.
Ann kindly walked her to the door,
so glad to say “good-bye,” no doubt.
Ann told her husband, “Hon, your mom
says our home is in disarray.”
“Our house looks fine to me,” he said.
"A silly thing for her to say!”
Date: November 18, 2019
Contest Title: Disarray
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Date: December 8, 2019
Contest title: Favourite Poem from November 2019
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Categories:
cleansers, home, women,
Form: Quatrain
I’m coming from a place where darkness and blues,
Echoes like shoes,
I’m coming from a understanding that the truth sometimes is like a pattern,
No tighter then suit and tied,
I invited you to cleansers and I remember that they kept,
My name in there database in high school and ten years plus when I did not believe,
In my self,
I’m coming from the era of church boy hymn in the pants and nice clean,
Shave and watch on handy,
Looking back on photos of flip o grams,
Boxers and briefs do match,
The drink or privilege coming down to who paying,
This is what I learn from listening to story far and near of women,
Even though some was few year older me they we tell me I’m not that most older you,
I was told to clean, press, and dry if that is a preference ,
And what I learned it’s a difference between the art and artistic some time I
Dress the way I feel,
But I must say,
When it comes to a couple and they are matching now that is singing the blues!
I’m coming from a place where darkness and blues
Echoes like shoes.
Categories:
cleansers, art, love,
Form: Dramatic Verse