Playing Favorites

 

PLAYING FAVORITES

Instant pots and next day deliveries. Bullet trains and watch phones. Alexa and Siri. Everyone is in a hurry for whatever it is they want. The pace of this rat race could have me on the road to the chiropractor to work out the kinks of stress. Instead, I take a deep breath of fresh air coming through my car’s windows and drive until there’s more grass than concrete…and exhale my troubles away.

four walls closing in
retreat to the countryside
turn the quiet up

2019-05-30
P. Wanken

Shared at Poetic Bloomings

* “Playing Favorites” prompt is to use a line from someone else’s poem (I used a song) as inspiration for a new poem. “Turn the Quiet Up” was taken from Eric Church’s song, “Smoke A Little Smoke.”

Jesus.

JESUS.

Author and
perfecter of faith.
He leads me
and guides me.
He knows how the story ends.
In Him will I trust.

2019-05-22
P. Wanken

Shared at Poetic Asides

Daydreams

DAYDREAMS

The countryside
where cattle, goats and donkeys roam,
the countryside
where family and friends abide…
a comfortable place to call home.
I long to plant roots in the loam
(of) the countryside.

2019-05-22
P. Wanken

Shared at Poetic Asides for Poetic Form: Rondelet.

Daisy

In dedication to a man I knew who was about to lose his wife to a terminal illness.

She loved daisies.

DAISY

She loves me.
She loves me not with
-out telling
me daily.
Whatever will I do with
-out my Daisy’s love?

2019-05-20
P. Wanken

Shared at Poetic Bloomings 

Stressed

Trying a new form – it involves a rhyme scheme that was a bit of a challenge. Initially, I wrote only one stanza. Then I decided to take it one step further, carrying the rhyme pattern into a second stanza. Had I left it at just the first stanza, it was a bit of a comedic poem. However, the second stanza brings some introspection…which I felt I needed today.

STRESSED

Chocolate. Slips past my lips to grip
my hips, and makes no haste to encase
my waist and thighs. Why!?
I cry (…as I ingest the rest.)

Stressed, I’m beaten by what I’ve eaten,
sweetened attempts to preempt feelings.
Not exempt from strife, my life
is rife with blessings, I’m guessing. (If only I look.)

2019-05-17
P. Wanken

Shared at Poetic Bloomings