On a blank page

A rengay I did with David from The Skeptic’s Kaddish

Verse 1 – CSL
I sit and ponder
the many mysteries
that lay on a blank page

Verse 2 – DB
marks surface over the flame
inkless signs begin to glow

Verse 3 – CSL
burned offerings
of a tired soul
smudged salutations & fictions

Verse 4 – DB
embers write the sky
heat awakens blackened wood
flood recedes to earth

Verse 5 – CSL
rainbows and butterflies leave
welcoming a beginning

Verse 6 – DB
cursor blinks in wait
one poet inspires the next
a rengay begins

Happy

The pursuit of Happyness lays in Happy Accidents
Tripped up memories
Stumbling on happiness like a drunk at the party
The Happy Prince, the curious clown,
More happy than not,
By choice, if not circumstance

Happiness is a choice
Choosing you over me
You are my happiness
With every smile
We are Happy together

Let me find happiness in the joy of another
Be it friend or lover
My happy is yours
The gift of a frown turned upside down
Are all the Happy Days I need

This is or a dVerse prompt – “For today’s Poetics, we will try to make this Tuesday a happy Tuesday. I am sharing titles of some books. You can incorporate one or as many as you like in your poem.

1.The pursuit of Happyness by Chris Gardener

  1. Happy Accidents: A memoir by Jane Lynch
  2. The ministry of utmost happiness by Arundhati Roy
  3. Stumbling on happiness by Daniel Todd Gilbert
  4. The Happy Prince by Oscar Wilde
  5. The art of happiness by the Dalai Lama
  6. More happy than not by Adam Silvera
  7. Happiness is a choice by Neil Kaufman

If the above titles don’t inspire you, you can simply write us a happy poem. The idea is to smile as you write and put a smile on the face of the person reading your poem.” I hope you enjoy and smile. 😊

Open Petals

Image by Pexels from Pixabay
Petals of a flower open to capture the dew of a misty morning / sweet perfume lingers over pretty color dresses / enticing  and enchanting drawn like the bee / I wander through a garden of open petals / need I choose one to pick to be mine 

This is from a dVerse prompt: “Write a quadrille (a poem of EXACTLY 44 words, not including the title) AND include the word “petals” or a form of the word within the body of the poem. A synonym for petals does not fulfill the prompt. It must be the word, or a form of the word.” Hope you enjoy!

Black corded whip

Strong, leather, precision tipped
Held in a hand in complete control
Tame my inner whims
Strike from me my soul

Under your guided hand
I become what I need to be
Released with each crack and sting
Me true self is set free

Petulant yet reluctant
I bend not the knee but waist
Bent over clothes free
I simply wait

“Count aloud.” A simple command
Comfortably said before
Crack and sting. One
Crack. Two. Sting. Three

Tears and clarity
The calm of an empty mind
Yours to shape
Mine to obey

Black corded whip
My simple salvation
Take me away
From every situation

Cover of Fornication's Fire on a background of flame

Fornication’s Fire

Burning passion, hot action, Fornication’s Fire. 30 erotic poems about the fires of love making, sex … fornicating. Modern poems take you on a journey that is sensual, sexual and burning. Read Fornication’s Fire on Amazon and KU. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09PMHYRP5

Shiny Metal Circle

Given in love
Taken as devotion
A symbol
I am his and his alone
This metal collar
Photo by Lance Reis on Unsplash

The cover of The Sex Cycle Collection. All four covers in a collage.

Buy The Sex Cycle Collection

The Sex Cycle Collection a collection of 4 books: The Sex Cycle, Seduced by Seduction, Fires of Fornication & After All is Said. Read over 150 poems that explore the spectrum of sex, desire & relationships. Four books of erotic poetry collected in one book.

Available in ebook, paperback and hardcopy! https://books2read.com/u/4jPV12

White Color Motif

A polar bear in a snowstorm. Drawn by me
The easy thing to do would be to use red. I’ve done it before. Hot and fiery. The color of blood, bleeding on the page. Red in its many hues pink as a blush or the dark burgundy of spilled wine.

But no. How about blue? Such a poet’s color. Blues beat down from the avenue, weaving their melancholy melody over the street. Looking down from the sky, reflections of an ocean on teardrops from the atmosphere. Blue bells, blue balls, blue suede shoes dancing to a slow song alone.

But no. None of those will do. I need something new.

So white. White sounds right. Ooops, that might not sound too right. Colored in controversy especially in today’s light. White is all the colors, tightly contained in a single line, a point on the spectrum, of the visible and invisible, light, matter and energy, wave, say hello, oh I see you, white light. Bright is white. The color of my flashlight on my phone, flash bulb, say hello to the selfie, oh but that ain’t white. Still bright though … right?

White is a winter’s day, with a polar bear, with the snow blowing, eyes closed so the black pupils can’t be seen, ruining our blank paper masterpiece. White is the beginning of every written story ever told. In the beginning was not the word but the blank page. Oh God does spoken word performances, didn’t you know? Only writes on stone tablets. In lists of ten. No wonder He only works six days of the week.

White is absence. Pigment gone, albino trace without the pink eyes. White lilies don't tan in the sun. Frosted tips of grass, but just the tip. The cause of the crunch under your feet. Bleached tissue, no longer brown, now suitable for wiping tears or blowing your nose.

White I might write as the color tonight. A flight of fancy, lightbulb bright. White no longer is my screen or my page as it seems; that white is no longer a beginning but the end after the period.

This is for a dVerse prompt: poetry with a colour motif:

  • take one or more literal colours (not a fancy colour name)
  • repeat the colour word(s) throughout the poem (e.g. refrain; anaphora, epistrophe)
  • use colour synonyms
  • employ colour with its specific meaning to the poem’s theme
  • let your colour motif(s) also become symbolic

I obviously chose white. I hope you enjoy the poem! 😊


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Monet’s Boat On A River

Claude Monet, The Studio Boat, 1876, Oil on canvas
Stiff lines and harsh brush strokes
The impression of a summer’s day
Green for trees upswept by the breeze
Along the river blue and white
Reflections in the water show bare branches
Winter's chill beneath the surface
Behind the green of a summer day

Alone on a boat
Sits a man in a coat
Hat on his head
With doors open

Does he see the summer trees above
Or the winter branches reflected below
Or are his eyes instead focused inside
Reflecting

This is a poem for the dVerse prompt:
So, for my prompt today you have two options.

You may write an ekphrastic poem inspired by Claude Monet’s “The Studio Boat.” Your poem does not need to include anything about reflecting or reflections, but it can. AND/OR

You may write a poem on reflection, whatever that means to you—self-reflection, reflection on time’s passing, a reflection in a pool of water, etc.

I chose to do a bit of both. Hope you enjoy! 😊

Hip, Hop & Bounce

NYC in 1983. Unnamed photographer. Not 5th and 51st.

New York City. 1983. The city that never sleeps, though she may spit on your lapel if you piss her off. The air was thick and humid in the summer, the yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes was either the pollution or a bum reliving himself, either way you woke up wanting to wash your mouth out before your morning coffee.

This was my city, my mistress. She sucked every ounce of strength from my bones and every cent from my wallet. One day she was gonna pay me back. Little did I know. I was going to get paid back, in spades. 

The corner of 5th and 51st street, down the block some kids were breakdancing on a flat cardboard box, up the street some hustler was taking money from a tourist, on the corner, I was creating poetic lyrics.


This is for a dVerse prompt: To write a contribution you will have to incorporate the given line into a piece of prose of no longer than 144 words (including the given line but excluding the title). You may punctuate and divide the line as you want, but you cannot insert any words into the line. The line: ‘The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes’ from “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Elliot.

Hope you enjoy!


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It’s not much

Photo by Soroush Karimi on Unsplash

He wasn’t much

Neither was he little

Rather he was just there

Being as such

Their bond was brittle

Neither seemed to really care

Much ado about nothing

An apt description

Of a tepid love affair

But it was something

Not conniption

Nor care


This was for a dVerse prompt: Pen us a smallish poem of just 44 words, including some semblance of the word MUCH. Hope you enjoy!

Embers

mage by Pexels from Pixabay
Once there was a fire
Slowly the flames die cooling
Now embers remain


Open
Hearts, doors, your legs
Burning. Longing. Desire
Then doors, hearts, your legs, close. Fire dies
Embers

This was for a BattleBorn – Twitter: https://x.com/The_PoetryArena; Bluesky – https://bsky.app/profile/thepoetryarena.bsky.social prompt. Use the word Ember in a poem. Hope you enjoy!


A pot of stew with the title A Taste of Stew written over it.

A Taste of Stew

Want to know what kind of poetry I write? Find out in the palm of your hands.

A collection of poems from seductive and spicy to thoughtful and observant. Poems from the AuthorStew blog and from across the Internet are gathered in this collection. There’s something just for you. Get a taste of AuthorStew’s poetry!