Untitled (lost and found prompt)
Disoriented.
Unable to find herself
until a loved one
sat in her stillness,
not looking her in the eye
until requested
by a subtle sigh
that was released to set free
her burning to be.
© Marie Elena Good 2024
pictured words
a simple pairing of pictures and poetry
September 1, 2024
August 28, 2024
SOUNDS LIKE ESL IS HARD!
Let’s take a trip down language lane.
Prepare yourself to tax your brain.
So: bike, and fyke, and seiche, and psych
aren’t spelled the same, but sound alike.
We’ve feign and vein and Maine, main, mane,
champagne, campaign … it’s all insane.
There’s there and they’re, and also their
and stare and stair, and ne’re, and prayer.
Too, to, and two, and you and ewe
and through and threw, and loo and lieu.
Let’s see … there’s sea, grand prix, esprit,
and Leigh, and Bea and bee and be.
And though there’s Leigh, there’s also weigh
(which sounds like way, whey, pray, and prey).
Clime, climb, time, thyme and Anaheim
I’m here to say all rhyme with rhyme.
Cent sounds like scent, assent, ascent,
descent, dissent, rent, rente, and meant.
Now cell and sell and bell and belle
all rhyme as well, as you can tell,
Like here and hear and deer and dear
and peer and pier and tier and tear,
Except when tear sounds just like pear
and wear like ware and ware like where.
We have these rules we break (not brake).
Like why rhyme stake, steak, and opaque??
It makes my head and stomach ache.
And I’d accept all this, except
it makes me feel vocab inept.
© Marie Elena Good 2024
August 25, 2024
ON MY CALENDAR
On My Calendar
Mondays
On Mondays we enjoy a meal
with family, and it’s ideal –
even when the food ain’t great
that sits there smirking on our plate.
The love we share is the appeal.
Tuesdays
Tuesday mornings I’m content
immersed in weekly blessed event
of breakfast with each granddaughter.
Our one-on-one constructs a cotter,
bonding hearts in time well spent.
Thursdays
My school-year Thursdays are the chance
to teach my heart the steps to dance
with women I would not have known,
and through whose cultures I have grown.
Their love is huge. My life, enhanced.
Fridays
Each final Friday, there’s a date
for cousin’s lunch, and I can’t wait.
We’ll keep it up year after year,
won’t let whatever interfere.
It keeps us bonded, and that’s great!
Saturdays
Any college football day
tends to chase my blues away.
(Except for a specific blue:
that one with maize that passes through.)
Love my scarlet and my gray!
Sundays
Sunday mornings spent in church
singing, praising, heartfelt search
through all the evidence of God
who we can know, and see, and laud.
(Sometimes Keith’s out catching perch. 😉)
Days unnamed, not unembraced,
leave ample time to just be graced
with quiet time
to read or rhyme,
or stuff that’s hard, but must be faced.
© Marie Elena Good 2024
I spent more time on these little pieces than it looks like. They need polishing, but at least the gist is there. 😉
July 21, 2024
PREFERENCES
Spring Blooms photo credit Keith R. Good
Preferences
I prefer water
falling, or babbling in brooks,
to crashing on shore.
I prefer my sun
filtered through dense forest pines.
The air I breathe, chilled.
I prefer trees dressed
in fall leaf, winter white, and
spring pastel blossom.
I prefer my sweets
whisper, never scream. Infer.
Teach my buds to taste.
I prefer poems
short. Simple. Unpretentious.
Teeming with meaning.
I prefer poem
to novel. Rain song to rap.
Bird song for play list.
I prefer my eyes
open to seeing the good.
Closed to finding fault.
I prefer voices
softly smoothing sharp judgements
and callous replies.
I prefer humble
to haughty. Natural to
embellished. Modest.
I prefer cozy
to large. Simple to stately.
Relaxed, and restful.
I prefer colors
sparsely vibrant, interspersed
in tranquil setting.
I prefer dancing
leaf shadows on my walls to
swanky wallpaper.
I prefer shadows
(sometimes) to that which casts them.
(Art of creation)
I prefer my love’s
letters on small sticky notes
to grand sky writing.
I prefer my home
and my husband to any
-where, and anyone.
I prefer bridges
to walls. Pathways to highways.
Left ajar to locked.
I prefer the truth
even when you think I won’t.
Even when it hurts.
I prefer Jesus,
gentle and lowly. King. Christ.
Forgiver of sins.
I prefer my God’s
still small voice that compels me
to be still, myself.
(c) Marie Elena Good, 2024
I wrote three of these seventeens previously
June 26, 2024
UNCLE
UNCLE
I think I’ll cry uncle this time.
I’m not in the mood to make rhyme.
My feet are disjointed,
Iamb disappointed.
My meter’s demanding a dime.
My quatrain’s off track
What would it entail
To get it pulled back
So it won’t derail?
I’m a poor poet
can’t afford the syntax –
All my verse is free
I’m just in the mood
To sit here and brood.
An unassuming voice eerily orbits the tranquil moon: “Uncle.”
© Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
A limerick, followed by a quatrain, followed by the 5/7/5 of haiku, followed by a rhyming couplet, and ending with a monoku. Phew!
June 23, 2024
THE VIEW FROM HER EYES
My stunningly beautiful daughter. Photo by Steve Gertz
She sees through eyes that close,
that nobody knows how to fix.
And politics says there aren’t
enough of her to fund a cure.
At one time, she was functionally blind;
mostly confined to her bed and
stuck inside her unwell head.
And though she tries,
it’s hard to be strong
when you long for the life
you once viewed as fate,
but now fear is too late.
She has multiple diagnoses.
Some fell away. Some chose to stay.
They, the predator. She, the prey.
© Marie Elena Good, 2024
#mentalillness
#schizoaffective
#multiplepersonalitydisorder
#lymedisease
#anaplasmosis
#blepharospasm
#meigesyndrome
June 19, 2024
Nursery Rhymes with Built-in Crimes
1.
There once was a hideous thug
With an ugly and ominous mug
He’d threateningly prey
On sweet girls’ curds and whey
Then just sit there obnoxiously smug.
2.
Who’d rock their poor baby to sleep
From height that’s forebodingly steep
While singing a song
That’s in every way wrong
And just causes the baby to weep.
3.
There once was a farmer’s wife
Who wielded a carving knife
In nursery rhyme tales?
Oh, please spare the de-tails
Of blind mice who must run for their life!
(c) Marie Elena Good, 2013
June 9, 2024
Share the light.
“A candle loses nothing by lighting another.” ~ James Keller
Is there anyone who hasn’t heard
Or anyone who’s not been stirred
By this glowing, truthful quote
That light remains, as flame’s transferred.
Might sharing light extinguish shame?
Bring honor to another’s name?
In my mind, it is good to note
That light is light. It’s all the same.
I cannot lose myself, it’s true,
By giving of myself to you.
The sharing is the antidote.
Let’s give, and watch the light accrue.
When sharing kindness, goodness, light,
We witness charity ignite.
This sentiment that Keller wrote
Shines hope into a troubled night.
© Marie Elena Good 2024
June 9, 2024
CANDLE SCANDAL
Candle Scandal
Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.
Get my drift? Though it’s really
none of my beeswax.
They have a short fuse.
They think they’re enlightened. Sure.
We know they’re wicked.
© Marie Elena Good 2024
When my husband said candles are wicked, I knew I had to run with it. 😉
June 2, 2024
CAUSTIC CREDO
Entertaining thoughts
of lynching trial jurors?
More insurrection?
Trump and his trial
likened to my sweet Jesus?
Never! By no means!
© Marie Elena Good 2024
pictured words 