That-to-that; hither then thither…
Here I am with my special child
exuberantly racing as one
around love’s bonding moments
driving pencils, propelled by hope
zooming upward, sliding downward
toward flight destination~~~
Dot-to-dot… one-two-three…
Here we are as mentor-student
bursting midst glee for correct lines
checking that connections make sense
against erasures for crooked marks
midst claps and high-five gestures
since milestone is reached freely
conquering spastic strains~~~
Up-and-down… down-and-up…
Here is our masterpiece together
after mirth-filled dot-to-dot pursuit!
Surpassing number-identification
my son exercises coloring skill
revealing artistic creation
of mom propelling son
along swing delight---
Then in sign language
he praises* God
and thanks me
with sweet hug.
*Psalm 150:6 Let every thing that hath breath praise the LORD. Praise ye the LORD.
December 16, 2022
2nd place, "Dot to Dot" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Kim Rodrigues; judged on 12/22/2022.
Categories:
erasures, appreciation, blessing, child, christian,
Form: Free verse
Eractive verses
dissolve in
circumvented
waves of
irreal words
& surreal swords
(mill for the grist)
Versating ellisions
mutate in
discombobulated
wordclouds of
maloverted lords
& diverted hordes
Egestive extremism
emerges from
specious endgames
& epic sadism
Mismusing holists
grope for hope
within mischievous holes
& eternal sloth
Blobified circumstances
cavort with
aversive erasures
ensuring elusive endings
& erosive circumbobulation
(grist for the thrill)
Categories:
erasures, dark, humorous, nonsense, surreal,
Form: Free verse
The blast of a cast aghast with fuss on a blunderbuss
Flew and grew a crew who rued chances and stances to discuss
Differences in conciliation conferences that coerced cooperation
Amplified by the serenity and dignity delegates drew from desperation.
The blast of a cast aghast with fuss on a boss bus
Flew and grew a crew who chimed chances and stances to fight fuss
Concealed in deals and peals of laughter undaunted daughters dismissed
When matrimony matrons measured erasures of kisses missed.
The blast of a cast aghast with bling on strings
Flew and brewed a concoction whose cadence retrieved riveted rings
When hearts in reward ramparts opted for votes and pots of conciliation
Empowered to drown doubts among strategy scouts who touted reconciliation.
The blast of a cast aghast with rum on conundrum drums
Flew and brewed a libation that lifted spirits among tankard tantrums
Tempered among embers in September to remember responsibilities
Assumed under sums and plums plucked, packed and tucked among domestic duties.
Categories:
erasures, poems,
Form: Free verse
You find old poems in the attic
in a box with the Remington Rand
you wrote them on in the Sixties
before computers were born.
They were published then in little
magazines like Bitterroot, the one
put out by Menke Katz, who loved
poetry by anyone from anywhere
who gave everything to write it.
What to do now with these poems
still breathing on paper but
scarred by erasures, smudges
and yellowed by time.
You could send them out
to a website where they might
appear until the site disappears
for reasons that take over
the editor's life.
Or you could put them back in
the box with the Remington Rand
and use a Sharpie to write
a note on the box that says
"Don’t throw this box out.
A heart ticks in here.”
Donal Mahoney
Categories:
erasures, poetry,
Form: Blank verse
Not sure when all of this started
Maybe the day sanity departed
But now I find that I like to chew
On anything the color of blue
The transition was rather simple
Erasures from colored pencils
Of course you know the color I choose
Do I need to keep reminding you
And who in their right mind would not pack lunch
Without the world of Crayola in a colorful box
They even give the crayons fancy names
Although all the shades of blue taste the same
And for a chew with a bite without the bark
I always do blue from the Play-Doh jar
To be fair other colors I've tried
But haven't I told you it's the blue that I like
Don't dare get me wrong there is normal I find
Why I'm a softy for good a blueberry pie
Then there's blue Pixie sticks
And blue Kool-Aid mix
Blue frozen pops
Blue chewy gum drops
Blue Gatorade
Blue frosted cupcakes
Who ever knew
There was so much color blue
And I know what you think
Call it a hunch
But the Permanent Marker
I needed only try once
Like I said
I'm not sure when all of this started
Maybe the day sanity departed...
Categories:
erasures, blue, funny, humor,
Form: Free verse
Wrinkles in time produce erasures of mind
Loving you with only the faint residue of who I am
Like a hard drive wiped clean
But the user’s sweat still clings to the keyboard
The interface had to wait to be reformed
My inner face smiles when it sees our connect was reborn
The metaphor is fitting
But the brain is more
Than an information system
Waiting to be accessed
We’re not technology and plastic
Imagine this- you and I
Soul mates of a kind
What is a mate but a friend
Is that a crime to believe
In another place and time
We shared an intimate exchange
Is that strange that you were mine?
Oh to turn a phrase
The words like sugar on a cane
They thrust on the the page
And make love to the mind that retains
The heat from my flame
I’ll say it again
Imagine this- you and I
Soul mates of a kind
What is a mate but a friend
Is that a crime?
To believe in another place and time
We shared an intimate exchange that was sublime
If you enjoyed this you can visit: https://traviswolfkill.wordpress.com/
Categories:
erasures, friendship,
Form: Free verse
It's goodbye to mad Frankie Fraser
The East Ends gangster appraiser
So loyal to the Kray's
To his very last day
One the Sixties ultimate erasures
.
Categories:
erasures, angst, bereavement, dark, death,
Form: Limerick
Butterfly soars
O’er charred, black, Forest floor
…Life returns once more…
Categories:
erasures, butterfly, fire, growth, nature,
Form: Haiku
Shavings of eraser skin clot her eyelashes
And she’s afraid to blink
Because she doesn’t want the flakes to drop in her eyes
It all hung above her head like a thunderstorm
The ridicule
The bruises beneath her rind
The water stains on her cheeks
And on her pillowcase
The goodbye letter engraved in interim graphite
On a leaf of flimsy notebook paper
The words so crestfallen
So true
So meaningless to the world
That it took her pencil and flipped it on its end
And scraped her pallid heart away from the page
And showered her with the erasures
And then overlapped the ghost with ‘LOSER!’
And now she has the cure against her vein
And she could swim away from the storm in a red rivulet
But the shards of eraser still have her too afraid to blink
Categories:
erasures, depression, fear,
Form: Free verse
Somehow they must think;
He’s impervious to pain;
Like some sort of superman;
One might dare to surmise;
But he’s not who they think he is;
And so then becomes;
A tough serving to swallow;
Served by some people whose hearts now are hallow
They came and they went but never could know;
That they’d carry him with them where ever they go;
They took many rounds but never could win;
And they’ll always be wondering where he has been.
And erasures they came;
As if systematic;
And his answers the same;
It’s all problematic.
Categories:
erasures, life
Form: Rhyme