| CARVIEW |
Most of these trippy mornings,
he wakes up with a word or phrase
repeating itself incessantly, usually
demanding and angry but sometimes
melodic, soothingly inside his head;
trippingly off his tonguetip;
almost always refusing to be denied.
Sometimes, smiling,
she calls him her Rainman.
——[||]——
dVerse Poets Pub
Quadrille Monday #240
~ TRIPPY ~
Esther Chilton challenges us to write a funny limerick every week. I’m not sure these are “funny” but I always have fun writing limericks, so I hope that counts. This week’s prompt: “Night”…
——[||]——
I know that I’ll just have to run
from daylight coming from the sun.
So bring on the night
or I’ll hafta take flight
and hide until the sunset’s done.
The night-time’s the thing that I love
(it fits like my hand fits a glove!)
I could sit here all night
on the porch swing and write
about starlight – my muse from above.
——[||]——
E.C.’s Limerick Challenge
01.26.26 – NIGHT
The pharmacist handed him opiates,
reminding him (again) to be careful.
The check-out clerk, just doing her job,
smiled and asked him, “Will that be all?”
He had his plan. “Yep. I’m good to go.”
——[||]——
Fandango’s One-Word Challenge
FOWC 01.25.26
~ CLERK ~
I’ve tried and tried, but
it’s almost impossible
to pick a favorite letter
out of the twenty-six I know.
I guess I like the ones
that sound like words
the best
like B (for ‘be’ or ‘bee’)
or C for ‘see’ or ‘sea’.
Gee, eye hope yew R
with me on this
(I know it’s not e-z).
Uh-oh my time is up.
I’d invite U for T, but
I gotta pee, so…
—[||]—
Sammi Cox Weekender
01.24.26 – Prompt #452
~ “LETTER” / 72 Words ~
There’s that time of day
—that one time of day—
I hate to love hating:
Even when it comes early
or arrives late, unannounced,
like I always know it will.
I don’t know why I hate it.
It’s just another clocktick, but
it never goes by quick enough
and never (ever!) arrives too soon
for me to wish it gone again
so I can wait, craving its return
tomorrow
——[||]——
Poets & Storytellers United
Friday Writing #211
~Night and Day~
He can’t
(his ego can’t)
accept that thing she said
before she went away alone.
(Alone!)
He knows
it’s true; it is. It’s true, but still
she didn’t have to leave
or say that thing
she said.
——[||]——
Ronovanwrites
Cinquain #36 / 01.23.26
~EGO~
Like The Great Fandango, I’m flashing back (a decade!!) this Friday, too. “Disappearance” was originally published in January 2016 at the Front Porch Review, and you can read the original HERE.
——[||]——
While you are away, I go out
into the sunless morning.
The door that closes behind me
closes forever. The house is an echo
and the silent windows reflect
only the vacant, untended garden.
I have nowhere to go
but I get into the car and drive.
All the signs are stop signs.
People in the village stop, stare
as I pass, seeing only half of me.
——[||]——
Fandango’s Flashback Friday
01.23.2026
(Seriously revised for this week’s Tuesday Poetics Challenge at the dVerse Poets Pub…)
The scientists are wrong about snowflakes:
All snowflakes are identical white demons,
invading the territory in overwhelming numbers,
driving up the driveway plowing bill,
forcing unwary motorists off the highways,
burying gardens, pulling down powerlines,
and demoralizing the population by
blanketing the satellite receptors.
They enlist the children, entice them
to build snowforts and snowmen;
seduce the poets and songwriters
into singing their ill-deserved praise;
hypnotize the elderly, wiping away
any surrender to current aging,
replacing it with recollections
of ice skates and sledding,
tobogganing down Hospital Hill.
Their annual invasion, more
intense some years than others,
is nonetheless always successful.
But even their most welcoming
allies, lovers of the ever-whitening
landscapes and hymnlike carols,
sooner or later change their tune,
find themselves wandering around
the Farmers’ Market vacant lots
wondering how much longer
before the tomatoes finally return.
——[||]——
dVerse Poets Pub
Tuesday Poetics 01.20.26
~ New Year Snow ~
One option for today’s Tanka Tuesday‘s tribute to Marianne Moore is to make up our own syllabic pattern and run with it. So… 5/2/5
“Is this your first time,”
she asks.
… “No, it’s not,” I say.
“It sure seems like it.”
… “I know;
… I’m out of practice.”
“Sorry to hear that;
Let’s just…”
… “No, no, no. Let’s not.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
… “I’m sure.”
“Okie-dokie. But…”
…“Stop. No ‘But’ required;
… and please,
… PLEEEZE stop saying that.”
“Please stop saying what?”
… “Okie…..”
“Sorry. My 1st time.”
… “Yeah, yeah. I doubt it.”
“You’re right;
It’s my go-to thing.
… “Wanna try again?”
“No, thanks.”
… “I didn’t think so.”
——[||]——
Tanka Tuesday Poetry
Challenge #48 – 01/20/26
~ PATTERNLY ~
scrambled, not fried