Look What I Found!: Compilation 6/24/2022

I tried to write something for the prompts yesterday but nothing was coming to me, so I closed the computer lid and walked away. I came back today with a fresh set of hands and eyes and this is what I got!?

Plane – Image by KL Caley

Can you picture a person in the fresh open air
looking up at a plane and you follow their stare
It’s a plane on a stick and the stick in the ground
My head is now spinning around and around.
The essence of pleasure has been taken away
It takes one to know one, is what they all say
But whether indigenous or found far from here
My investigation is becoming quite clear
There’s a scroll at the base with a tiny rosette
I barely could take notice of words that were set
on the thin little paper rolled up with a bow
What it might say, I don’t really know.
My endeavor is over, my looking is done
This plane won’t fly far, it’s just there for fun
I envisage myself walking quickly away
But I might come to check this some other day.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Timid Man: Compilation 06/15/2022

To show off his accomplishment the awkward little man
Silenced by the opulence, a foreshadow of a plan,
burst into the sunroom to catch them by surprise
But the planned achievement earned was not his enterprise.
the mother of the baby worked to quieten her tot
while one teen sat sedated, another picked a shoelace knot
He noticed a quiet lady was swatting at some flies
Antagonist by nature or just nosey and all eyes?
He felt his plan diminish and realized in the end
That people don’t like others who are timid little men.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

A Letter A Week – K

Nope, Not Pam is the host of “A Letter A Week” and this week is K. https://nopenotpam.com/2022/06/12/a-letter-a-week-k/

Place – Krakow

Emotion – keen

Adjective – knockout

Verb – keep

My animal – Kiwi

In a land so far from me
a place called Krakow holds my roots
A knockout lady keen on men
Her lover wearing army boots
He keeps her safe and loves her much
Their world will surely shift
When Hitler comes to get them all
and Kiwi birds are silly gifts.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Anywhere: Compilation June 7, 2022

Amidst the cattails and the mud
the sorrow of their loss is grand
Raising up their hearts and minds
to show that guilt has no stand
An heirloom from the other day
like thoughts confined to one
The aftermath is worse to feel
Like burning bushes had been done
Remorse is present and will not be
replaceable as such
But put the kibosh on network rules
and see the change just as much.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Sun, Sand, Storms, and Celebrations: Summer Ekphrastic

This is the prompt at dVerse Poet’s Pub
For the prompt—choose one or more of the paintings below and write a poem inspired by what you see or feel.
Peder Severin Krøyer, Summer Evening at Skagen. The Artist’s Wife and Dog by the Shore


Ekphrastic: An ekphrastic poem is a vivid description of a scene or, more commonly, a work of art. Through the imaginative act of narrating and reflecting on the “action” of a painting or sculpture, the poet may amplify and expand its meaning. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ekphrasis

Moonlight glows upon the soft waves
as a gentle breeze blows
Still and quiet
Calm and peaceful
Light upon the ripples moving closer

©2022 CBialczak

What do you see # 135- May 23, 2021

Sadje is the host: https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2022/05/23/what-do-you-see-135-may-23-2021/

Beneath the bows of the old elm trees
a road lies barren, an unused pass
Where it leads is a mystery
Like drops of dew on a looking glass
Follow close and you might find
the answers that you seek
But stray away in the thicket’s patch
And life’s long journey will be weak.
forgive yourself for your mistakes
for those were meant to be made
Look ahead down the long dark path
and your sorrow starts to fade
Keep walking here and do not fear
what is lying there in wait
for only you control yourself
your choices made by fate

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Sick Fernando: Compilation May 21, 2022

Once an exemplar man, a tempest to the core
Fernando was a techno fan, loved pyro even more!
Shutting down his internet, pallor in his eyes
Going out today, he thought, wasn’t very wise
But shop ahead he did, and scanned his products well
Involving the shop manager by ringing a small bell
Feeling so unwell, the man he took the hint
For in a sickly moment, to the toilet he did sprint.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

#TankaTuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 274, 5/17/22 #Ekphrastic #PhotoPrompt

Join here

This challenge explores Ekphrastic poetry, inspired by visual art or photographs. David, from the Skeptic’s Kaddish, provided the photo for this month’s challenge.

Reach (a mirror nonet)

keep going until you feel complete
infinite possibilities
dreams turn to reality
endless places to go
imagine yourself
see beyond now
open eyes
open eyes
see beyond now
imagine yourself
endless places to go
dreams turn to reality
infinite possibilities
keep going until you feel complete
©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Keep Reaching (a tanka poem)

When you feel limits being reach
there are endless possibilities beyond
Remember to keep going for there is no stop
©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Dessert – May 9, 2022 Compilation

Sitting on a high back stool, shifting all my weight
I’m waiting for my custard pie, I spin to face the plate
My chair is too low to reach the food, looks iffy anyway
I leave my seat and bite my lip, regretting my long day.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

My Life – A compilation May 6, 2022

As a pedestrian here, alone on my way
home to my condo on this glorious day
I think to myself in my tirade of thoughts
all of my nots and all of my oughts
My old house was cobalt, a bright brilliant blue
splashed with a strange yellow-orangey hue
I’d comment some more on the relics inside
Since I honestly have nothing to hide
But to bore you to death is not what I think
So I’d rather you sit and relax with a drink
I used to think I was the center of earth
Entitlement was the sum of all of my worth
My apartment was grand but empty as hell
The rest of my tale, I might as well tell
I had no love life, apart from my cat
An old catty man-child, or something like that
My cooking was sparse, take out boxes abound
That sat on my table, since no one’s around
The laundry was dirty, except for the socks
No one wants dirty feet, or feet cut on the rocks
Of the path that leads here and to other homesteads
I could continue my tale, but will go home now instead.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry