pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: seventeen syllables

Blustery (Hygge)

Photo by Vlad Zhuravlev on Pexels.com

blustery out there
but warm in here with my love
welcoming blizzards

(c) Marie Elena Good, 2022

Feel the warmth (Hygge)

Photo by Thirdman on Pexels.com

Trust sweater season
to have warm conversation
and hot chocolate.

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

A Misguided Poem

Photo by Los Muertos Crew on Pexels.com

WD November Chapbook Challenge, Day 3.  Write a misguided poem

A Misguided Poem

When this poem saw
its writer, it counted on
seventeen syllab

-les

© Marie Elena Good 2022

Untitled

Photo by molochkomolochko on Pexels.com

WD November Chapbook Challenge, Day 2. Write a sweet poem.


I prefer my sweets
to whisper, not scream. Infer.
Teach my buds to taste.

© Marie Elena Good 2022

“Asking for a friend.”

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

WD November Chapbook Challenge. Day 1.  Write a beginning poem, or an ending poem

“Asking for a friend”

Dear fellow persons,
When did handwritten letters
become an art form?

Birthday greetings change
from carefully picked cards, to
instant facebook posts?

Did spelling our words
become an imposition
on us?  idk.

When did we mutate
from people people, to mere
convenience junkies?

Have we managed to
make effortlessness a god
of our own doing?

A god that will bring
us to our knees when we see
it filched our intents

made us its robots
robbed us of our humanness
made us drop our

love.

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

PONDERINGS

Photo credit: Keith R. Good

Smacks of death, say some.
But I smell Mom’s pies. Hear Dad’s
marching band pre-games.

Feel crisp air against
my sometimes still-a-bit-tanned-
from-summertime skin.

Marvel at the sky’s
puffy white and charcoal clouds
in deep blue setting.

Relish the jewel-tones
gradually gracing trees,
begging wonderment.

Enjoy leaves crunching
beneath the tires of my bike,
or cute-boot-dressed feet.

Experience leaves
raked in a pile over my
head, then jumping in.

Savor the taste of
a hardy stew with biscuits,
or bowl of chili.

Memories bring smiles,
like the Robbins Avenue
Pizza (a rare treat),

enjoyed on our porch
after walking home from a
nighttime football game.

Smacks of death, say some.
But my senses are filled with
what I’ve fallen for.

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

LIFE

Photo by Keith R. Good

Sometimes we don’t see
past the beauty in focus.
Sometimes life holds life.


#seventeenintwentytwo

MILK DELIVERY

Uncle Ray delivering milk for Warren Sanitary Dairy 1954

Back in the days of house-to-house milk delivery, Uncle Ray had the greatest technology:  a horse-driven, refrigerated milk cart. The horse knew what she was doing.  She would take Uncle Ray to the first home on the route.  He would grab enough ice-cold milk from the cart for the next several homes.  She would walk the cart to the spot where he would need to grab more milk, and wait there for him. Then along came even newer and greater technology:  refrigerated delivery trucks.  Unfortunately, Uncle Ray was not permitted to turn down the newer technology.  Not only did it make his job harder, but he lost a dear friend and coworker. 

Often new knowhow’s
know how is negligible
or nearly inept.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

Untitled 17 syllables (5/7/5)

Photo by monicore on Pexels.com

I’m an introvert.
I feel the need to exit
before I enter.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

UNTITLED 5/7/5

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“No more pennies,” we
were informed, and we could make
no cents of this change.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

(Hardly a poem, but it was fun to write!)