Photos for January Stones and April PAD 2012 property of M J Dills (exception 1/16)

Saturday, April 30, 2016

April 30, 2016 - For today’s prompt, write a dead end poem.

I heard on the radio that railroad crossing bars
are stuck in the down position in SODO
where there’s a baseball game tonight and
Big Bertha is drilling a tunnel under Seattle,
moving the earth and shaking the land
causing the viaduct to be closed,
the whole purpose to make commuting easier
but right now everywhere you turn it’s a dead end.
Drivers give each other the one finger salute
and the sun shines on those who have no idea
where they put their sunglasses seven months ago.

Thank you for reading....

Friday, April 29, 2016

April 29, 2016 - For today’s prompt, write a haphazard poem.

a children’s’ story

down the rabbit hole
teacups rattle and teapots talk
heads are rolling and
minor disputes have turned into wars with
marching, shouting, slaughtering soldiers.
little girls, offered wine, eat
mushrooms and tablets
of questionable origin.
cats, mind you, excuse behavior with
“we’re all mad here”
AND it’s well known the best people usually are.
rabbits run, they truly RUN.
impossible things happen to the
curiouser and curiouser.
lazy, lascivious larvae smoke unknown substances.
and Disney has no problem with any of this


Thanks for reading

Thursday, April 28, 2016

April 28, 2016 - For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Important (blank)"


When I speak of My House
My Street
My Neighbors
My Children
My Cat, My Dog, or the Birds in My Yard
I am commenting as a thief.
Innocently so, and yet….
These things are, none of them,
For a short time I might embrace them, admire them, chase them, hug them,
Clean them, shun them, break them, mend them.
All these things are simply on loan
For my use, while I’m here;
And when I leave
I am expected to leave them in good condition,
Unharmed, repaired, cleaned up, left in their proper place.
The Mother allows us to borrow, make use of her things and
Treat her with respect and love.
She gives; we are to give back.
We have learned to kill and maim and sunder and sully.
We have tarnished, defiled, raped and stolen.
We are beggars, not choosers.
She will charge us with interest we cannot remit.
We are the stealing borrowers; borrowing thieves.

Thanks for reading.......

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

April 27, 2016 - For today’s prompt, write a take off poem.

My daddy raised some hell in
until he was a wise guy at the age of
and decided to take off
for parts unknown
and rode rails,
picked watermelon for pennies
and played his harmonica for company.
It was 1919.
People were lonely everywhere.

Daddy was deathly afraid of snakes and
all things that moved across
the face of the earth
without feet.
This would include
which scared him more than

He came back to Montana as a young man
And chased smoke for a living;
a dangerous pastime
that brought him to familiarity of deep fear
and profound courage.
Mother Nature, out of control.

My daddy was a humble man in many ways
but he could stand up to a fight
with little compunction
and was always on the side of
the underdog,
the Cinderella team,
the downtrodden.

a place named for mountains ,
known for a vast sky;
where my daddy’s heart yearned
and his mind imagined.

My daddy was a Capricorn,
an earth sign,
as am I, a Virgo and
my mother, a Taurus.
These are feet that sense
the dense physical world.
Like Montana.

Thank you for reading.....

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

April 26, 2016 - Write a love poem.............


I want to share this with you.
This time from far away and long ago.
How brilliant to remember
To remember the little things
The feel of my shoulder leaning into yours
The song we heard that morning at breakfast after we made the bed
Peering at each other over the continent of sheets and pillows. 

Thank you, my friends, for reading......

Monday, April 25, 2016

April 25, 2016 - For today’s prompt, write an exercise poem. The poem could be about a specific exercise, or it could just incorporate exercising into the poem

It was an accident he said
Clearly unintended
It started out as just a game
But that’s not how it ended.

A summer morning, on a day,
That should have been for fun
Was turned completely upside down
When Billy found a gun.

The closet was a perfect hiding place
Nate didn’t make a sound
Breathing barely, standing still
He doubted he’d be found.

It turned out to be Nancy’s fault
Coming in from walking
She thought it odd with kids at home
There was no noise or talking.

She crept in on catlike feet
And snuck around a corner.
There was no one in this game
Assigned to yell or warn her.

There are two views presented here
That cause dividing fights;
One is the man who claims
He’s just exercising his rights;

The other side has a loss
Of no comparing sorrow,
To have a son or daughter
Who won’t wake up tomorrow.

Thanks for reading.

Sunday, April 24, 2016

April 24, 2016 - For today’s prompt, write a poem in which something is lost and then regained.


I opened the door without knocking;
There you were
sewing buttons on your own shirt.
You sat on the bed with a small woven basket full of colorful spools
and worked the needle back and forth through the tiny holes like a Mighty Tailor.
You barely looked up.
I keenly stared at your shoulders, chest, belly with a small line of hair growing up your middle; you, as brown as a coconut, a scar running from your clavicle downwards aiming at your heart… like an arrow, pointing out to me the vital part of your anatomy.
The shirt was yellow, laid across your knees, and the buttons were bone, ancient, stolen from other garments over the decades.
I’ll never forget the contrast of yellow cotton on brown flesh; your indifference to my presence and my awareness of yours; the throbbing in my veins.
If I told you I loved you, I would lose you completely. I needed to keep you, just as you were. How could I have known that then?

Thanks for reading...... 

Saturday, April 23, 2016

April 23, 2016 Write a poem that mentions shoes

Lost Shoes
One night we drove up river for pozole.
Pedro had been drinking all day
But we let him come if he’d not make a fool of himself.
He’d lost his shoes, they were expensive flip-flops and
He kept bringing it up and the girl; I can no longer remember her name,
Told him to “shut up about the damn shoes…” she must have said that twenty-five times.
The cicadas were like sirens; they were so loud you had to pause sometimes to let them settle down a little so you could talk.
We got to the pozole place and they were just about to close but they said to come in anyway.
Rain started to fall in big diamond drops and pretty soon it was coming down in sheets. Sheets of rain; I’d heard of that before.
We ate the pozole and went outside where it was so dark, the only light from the little jungle café, and you couldn’t see one foot go down in front of the other. I held my hands out to catch my balance.  
Puddles turned into streams around our ankles and Pedro laughed at us when we said we were afraid our shoes would float away in the black nothing. 

Thank you for reading.....

Friday, April 22, 2016

April 22, 2016 For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Star (blank)"



Sluggish odor of sulfur floats over the street
Engines rev and horns honk…those arriving on the
Daily lives interrupted by
Unseen circumstances

Ángel’s legs are turned in too many directions
Later they will be laid
In white satin

Keens and guttural womanish sounds, not unlike those heard at
Recorded pipe organ and
A number spoken out-loud

This Taurus child has flown
Way too early for a boy to go home

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Thank you for reading.......

Thursday, April 21, 2016

April 21, 2016 Poem In a Pocket Day ----For today’s prompt, write a poem that responds (or somehow communicates) with another poem.

Tonight I Can Not Write
(Tonight I Can Write by Pablo Neruda)

Tonight I cannot write what I need to say to you. The words won’t come.

I cannot tell you how the sound of the wind clattering in the palms shivers my heart. I cannot recall being with you in the sand, under the moon, by the sea.

Tonight and tomorrow I cannot write nor can I sing the love songs we sang together secretly – so only we could hear.

Tonight I cannot write how your hands wrapped around my soul and your fingers tapped the code of my heart. It is dark now. My heart is dark.

I do not miss you, nor do I yearn for you. I never think of you. My mind is clear. Open.

Tonight I cannot write and plead with you in my quiet way to forget me. Forget me. As I have forgotten you.

The music drifts down my street and the notes are the same that never rouse my memory of things that no longer matter.

Tonight I cannot write that your face to me is a clear and empty sphere. I do not see you. Nor do I dream of you.

I have forgotten you. Your eyes. Your voice, your touch. I no longer remember you.

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

April 20, 2016 - For today’s prompt, write a poem of what goes unsaid.

  I Would Have You Again 

I walked away.
You think I never looked back?
I did.
I watched the Caller ID
I almost picked up many times.
There were so many things I wanted to ask…
But I knew the chances of getting truth out of your mouth was as
likely as
unpaid debts to the collection agencies of our youth
getting paid.
We burned each other
and left scars that make modern day tattoos look like
a redheaded boy’s freckles.
Your jagged smile wakes me at night from solid sleep…
I would have you
I would definitely have you

Thank you for reading...............

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

April 19, 2016 - Write a cool poem

Today's prompt was a challenge; all I could think of was Cool Hand Luke.
Paul Newman followed me around all morning and erasing the image of the movie's crucifixion pose was impossible.
Luke Jackson was a tough guy and we never are let on to why he turned into a petty criminal, went to jail and in the end, was senselessly killed. 
We all start out good. Some of us end up well. 

vicarious living through heroes,
good guys,
bad guys.  
tough guys;

“Stop feeding off me,” Luke said.

meth is not cool
junk is not cool

no means no
means no
means NO

people kill people
guns are not chill
use your head

feed your head

“What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate.”

Thanks for reading....

Monday, April 18, 2016

April 18, 2016 --- Write a poem about an office

Today's prompt was a tough one for me and I ended up doing an Acrostic poem, which is a bit lame. I apologize. 

On Monday, employees drag their
Feet and can’t wait til Tuesday just so it won’t be Monday
Forever; or so it seems. Wednesday
Is hump day and the week is
Cut in half, and Thursday gets a pass into Friday when
Everybody gets to rest for two days and do it all over again. 


Thanks for reading........... 

Sunday, April 17, 2016

Saturday, April 16, 2016

April 16, 2016 "For today’s prompt, write a poem about (or at) a food establishment."

The Taco Stand by Farmacia Guadalajara

open late afternoon
with guarantee of
taco stand
next to brightly lit
pharmacy comes to life
with scented smoke and
the sounds of knives
onions cilantro radishes more onions.
one gringo patiently stands
in line, listens intently to orders given
in a foreign tongue, trying to make
sure he gets what others are having.
juicy meat and trimmings on the
half shell
so to speak .
lean over slightly to
grab a bite
red sauce
green sauce
and some sweet white
to wash it down.
por favor.

Gracias por leer......

Friday, April 15, 2016

April 15, 2016 - Today's prompt is to write a poem using at least 4 of these 8 words: flat, ring, lavish, vessel, paper, blacklist, gaudy, tooth


On the blacklist of life
Fight tooth and nail to climb into a flat vessel
Not one life ring. No paper, just the shirt on his back
The baby in her arms, the mark on the soul
Wishing not for lavish, gaudy lifestyles
Just life
Blacklisted from living

Thanks for reading

Thursday, April 14, 2016

April 14, 2016 The prompt is to Write a Time-Out Poem

 Image result for yoga

(Every Tuesday and Thursday, I go to a yoga class at the Y for one hour. This is my time. No phone. No contact. I am alone in a sea of people who are also alone; we are doing ourselves. We are doing nothing else.)

My Yoga


I am  
Rooted and reaching, my leaves growing to East, to West

I shift from being a Child to a Warrior in the course of one hour
Soft to inflexible
Cradled to keen


Learning how to breathe again,
Resting, as I have not rested in the past
Resting now, as I cannot rest in any place other than here



I cross my hands over my heart and thank her for beating
I thank her for being strong and giving me a day
After day
After day

Thanks for reading

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

April 13, 2016 - Last_______ - Fill in the Blank

Last Trip

It was the last ski trip of the year
Less like snow and more like ice 
but longer daylight
We took sips from the suede wine bladder your stepfather brought from Spain
Our spindly legs dangling from the lift chair, leaning from side to side
Singing oh way oh oh way oh
You kissed me with rotten berry lips, the wine was awful, I felt your hot tongue inside my mouth and bile rising from high in my throat, I would've died for you to know
I saw you again in the summer. I was off to school and you were working for your father and accruing solo hours in your brother’s Piper Cub. You said we should meet some night and hang out. I knew what you really wanted
You'd been dead for nearly a year before I knew about your plane going down, caught in wires from flying too low, doing tricks and showing off.  I remembered everything about you. I smelled English Leather. I heard your rough laugh. I felt your hand on my belt buckle. I missed you. I missed any chance with you

Thanks for reading......