The River’s Crusade

Standard

Carnassial claws plunder the rushing water
The mighty river quivers, reluctant to release its treasure
Roars as the fowl bandit rips riches from its depths
Waves slap the feathered beast with intense fury
Fresh tears fall, overflowing its swollen banks
Defeated, the river ceases its coursing

Creative Bloomings Prompt #143: Personification

Found Poem “in Our Dreams We Read

Standard

Click link to purchase book and support Literacy councils in Alabama and Birmingham.

A found poem from prologue of “In Our Dreams We Read” by Bruce K. Berger

Illiteracy smacked me

Sent me sprawling

Reading was never optional

My mother was a schoolteacher

My father devoured newspapers

–And western novels

I gathered for nightly bedtime stories

Trekked each week to the library

Stories fed my imagination

Fueled my dreams

 

Literacy isn’t a gift given to all

Bob couldn’t read

What don’t you understand?

“The whole damn thing, he said.”

“I can only read in my dreams.”

 

Illiteracy isn’t sexy

It doesn’t wear suggestive clothing

Sometimes they pretend

They are proud

So they just keep on keeping on

It is not an unsolvable problem

People who can read

Help others to read

Why finer thing can someone do

Than influence the life of another?

Wing It

Standard

a parody poem for Creative Bloomings

This always happens when my favorite song’s on

I want to belt it out, want to sing along

But I don’t know the words, the lyric’s all wrong

So wing it, just wing it

Make up a melody, hum to the beat

If you can’t remember, then just tap your feet

When your favorite tune plays, fake it and repeat

Just wing it

Go on act like a fool

Just wing it, wing it, wing it

Open up your mouth and sing it

Whistle the Dixie, play your hand like a drum

It doesn’t matter, the volume’s turned up

Just wing it, wing it, just wing it, wing it, ooh!

 Next time the music’s on and your brain is on hold

Turn the speakers up, and go for gold

Follow this advice, it’ fool proof I’m told

So wing it

Just wing it, wing it, wing it, ooh!

The Write Life

Standard

The stress of not knowing of constantly going
To check an email, a blog, that submission thingamajob!
The stress takes its toll; it constantly shows
In the wrinkles and lines; that crease between my eyes
When will it end; the rejection
Not for me—good luck—it has merit but
It’s not a good fit—the next agent may like it—enough!
To make me scream, pull out my hair, phone a friend
Take a chance, do a dance in the rain naked and then
Grab paper and pen, sit at my desk or under a tree
You see, it’s the write life for me!