pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Life

WIST(eria )FUL

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Photo by Keith R. Good

 

Lord give me eyes
that note gentle lavenders
among desolate grays.

A Mile is Nothing

do not judge

Don’t judge anyone
Until you’ve walked in their shoes
As long as they have.

 

 

RECONNECT

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Photo by Keith R. Good

just once
catch first glint of dawn
chase rise and fall
of moon and sun and sigh

#seventeensyllablesfortwentyseventeen

 

THE DIME

Izzy

I know impish Izzy who swallowed a dime
But I don’t know why she swallowed the dime.
Perhaps I’ll rhyme.

I know impish Izzy who swallowed banana
that tasted so sweet and that came from Cabana.
She swallowed banana to push down the dime.
But I don’t know why she swallowed the dime.
Perhaps I’ll rhyme.

I know impish Izzy is waiting to poop.
And each time she does, Momma’s needing to “snoop.”
She swallowed banana that came from Cabana.
She swallowed banana to push down the dime
But I don’t know why she swallowed the dime.
Perhaps I’ll rhyme.

I know a sweet Momma who thinks this all stinks.
Whose sweet little Izzy is full of high jinx
And while she’s high jinxing, she’s waiting to poop
And each time she does, Momma’s needing to snoop.
She swallowed banana that came from Cabana.
She swallowed banana to push down the dime
But I don’t know why she swallowed the dime.
Perhaps I’ll rhyme.

I know impish Izzy, who gives us a run
For proverbial money. She’s playful, that one.
Her sweet little Momma just thinks this all stinks,
While Izzy is impish and full of high jinx
And while she’s high jinxing, she’s waiting to poop
And each time she does, Momma’s needing to snoop.
She swallowed banana that came from Cabana.
She swallowed banana to push down the dime
But I don’t know why she swallowed the dime.
Perhaps I’ll rhyme.

Our Izzy is loaded with life and fun sass.
And as for the dime? Well, this too shall pass.

(And you ALL knew THAT was coming! 😀 )

 

Inspired also, of course by:
I KNOW AN OLD LADY
by Rose Bonne and Alan Mills

HOW IT ENDED (fable)

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Photo by Keith R. Good

 

“We’re all doomed!” wailed baboon.
“Now, says who?” asked the shrew.
“It’s a lie!” declared fly.
“You buffoon!” slurred raccoon.

“Please, please, please!” pleaded bees,
“What baboon says is true!
We are dying in droves!
If we die, you will too!”

“But that’s not what MAN says,
and he’d KNOW,” shrieked the crow.
And the rest felt affirmed
While baboon’s head hung low.

“We rely on each bee,” whispered unnoticed flea.

With the flea’s voice unheard,
And the baboon, insulted
No common sense stirred,
And the poet’s voice halted.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

UNITED

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I wish all had disembarked.
Teach United
the meaning of its name.

 

#seventeensyllablesfortwentyseventeen
#aprilpad

PLAQUES

 

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“After the Rain” (Made with Love by Leeroy. Life-of-Pix free stock}

 

She writes her life in third person
Once removed.
In ink or lead or crayon.
Or spoon.
It’s strewn about while she

Remains unmoved.

Someone loved her once, she knows.
No. She knows.
She wrings her wrists
And twists her ring.
Can’t tell you what she ate
Or when.

Or who would ask such a thing.

She also knows this:
Each day is a season
Fused with strife,
Escaping her grasp,
Leaving her gasping

For life.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

LONGING

longing

I long for a world
Not riddled with sin
Where the earth is kind,
And the people therein.

(c) Marie Elena Good, 2009

POSSIBILITIES

creation-is-fluent

Creation is fluent
in the art of possibilities.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2009

UNWANTED (Sonnetina Tre for an unplanned child)

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A life that’s wanted is a life that’s life.
Unwanted life? Disposable tissue.
So at what point does life become a life?
Unplanned or planned – too often the issue.

The silent scream of babies ripped apart
Is deafening to me – I can’t be still
And not express what grieves my beating heart
While theirs are halted at another’s will.

What right have we to turn a woman’s womb
Into an unplanned baby’s living tomb?

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2016