Tag: wordle

#stinewriting Blog Christine Bialczak poetry poems poetry Poetry to enjoy Sunday Writing Prompt The Sunday Whirl: Weekly Wordles wordle

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #548

Brenda Warren is our hostess for the Sunday Whirl. You can join in here

Our words are
sliver, breath, sent, plans, hours, minutes, chime, drive, write, light, crime, match

Plans

I hold my breath
As I write this song
Minutes pass
It’s not that long

I drive through cities
Where crime does live
Wondering who
The blame I give

A sliver moon
Is in the sky
The hours tick
Time passing by

I light a match
To check my plan
Who sent me here?
Who is that man?

The clock will chime
The night goes on
I must go home
The job is done

#stinewriting Blog Christine Bialczak poetry poems poetry Poetry to enjoy stinewriting Sunday Writing Prompt The Sunday Whirl: Weekly Wordles Weekend Writing wordle

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #547

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2022/04/03/wordle-547/

The Strong, Brave Cow

Like lines in the air
The cow jumped over the moon
With hooves like fingertips
Never landing too soon
He jumped through the void
Making patterns in air
Unconsciously knowing
A landing place with be there
A remote piece of space
A star up in the sky
Tracing the pattern
Of this cow, watch him fly
Then down to his spot
He safely will drop
‘Cause no one cooks up a place
Where that strong cow can’t stop.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

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Wordle #275

Yves is the host of this weeks wordle. Check it out here

word-art-55.png (757×660)
Stalemate
Playboy
Valentine’s Day
Roses
Helium
Thorns
Slender
Wrists
Fumble
Cinch
Woebegone
Nylon

Goodbye!

With nylon stockings upon slender legs

She fumbled for keys in her clutch

She was no Playboy on this Valentine’s Day

Even if she’s treated as such.

The helium globes rose high above her

Suspended by only a string

A thin and crinkled cinched up knot

But a thorn would soon pop that thing

And then her wrist no longer tied

A woebegone gift lost to the sky

A pawn he played in his cold game

A stalemate was this guy

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

#stinewriting Blog Christine Bialczak poetry poems poetry Poetry to enjoy stinewriting Weekly Writing Prompt wordle

Wordle #273

word-art-53.png (557×896)

Fists
Follow
Guest
Hire
Older
Man
Mittens
Smoke
Snowman
Crunch
Harden
Jump
Lift
Coals
Impediment
Drench
Coffee
Sit
Place
Wool

Today we have a double Wordle. Check this out at Mindlovemiserysmenagerie

The Fight

I balled up my fists, I was ready to fight
following him there through the dead of the night
I felt like a guest in a house made of cards
a man out for hire with my own body guard
He was older than me ’bout least year or two
he wore these old mittens that hid a tattoo
He smoked unfiltered camels lit with a match
a snowman would melt if the wind were to snatch
the match as it blew aglow burned with the fire
the glow in the air was something I’d admire
now crunching along on this harden black dirt
I jumped at a new sound as if I’d been hurt
I lifted my head, watched the man in my path
black coal colored eyes showing deep-seeded wrath
boots I was wearing an impediment now
I was drenched in sweat, from my feet to my brow
I could smell the coffee escape from my pours
if you’d been there as well it could’ve been yours
instead of running I decided to sit
on a place that seemed dry, my senses a-lit
He had pulled on a cap, twas handmade of wool
like a matador wears a cape for a bull
He suddenly smiled as he held out his hand
he helped me adjust and move up to a stand
We shook each hand as if we’d known we’d were friends
and that is how this little story now ends.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

#stinewriting Blog Christine Bialczak poetry poems poetry Poetry to enjoy stinewriting Sunday Writing Prompt The Sunday Whirl: Weekly Wordles Weekend Writing Weekly Writing Prompt wordle

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle 530

At the edge of the world
where a hive roars with life
the chatter is humming
the work seems like strife

the stars burn so brightly
a feline mews low
a candle flicks warmly
with a hazy, soft glow

It’s a sign of the times
a role destined to play
a curse of the future
where a secret might lay

And so it is here now
that we wander alone
Do we face what’s there waiting?
Should we fear the unknown? 

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

#stinewriting Blog Christine Bialczak poetry poems poetry Poetry to enjoy stinewriting Sunday Writing Prompt The Sunday Whirl: Weekly Wordles Weekend Writing Weekly Writing Prompt wordle

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #526

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2021/11/07/wordle-526/

Like a secret hid behind my eyes
I lie alone and wonder
How years go by without a clue
Like a blink or like a shudder

But glass holds in the things we feel
Words sit below the surface
We paint a scene of all our years
A meeting of minds amorphous

They sample foods and all fine wines
Those palatial and opulent
They lightly tap on clean taste buds
Bringing thoughts which are flamboyant

And then I go back to my shell
Where safety lies in wait
And let the time past fast and slow
Getting ready for my fate.

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

#stinewriting Blog Christine Bialczak poetry poems poetry Poetry to enjoy Sunday Writing Prompt The Sunday Whirl: Weekly Wordles Weekend Writing Weekly Writing Prompt wordle

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #523

Brenda Warren is our host for the Sunday Whirl. You can join in here

Finding Gold

Going to the beaches
With murder on my mind
A mission that I need to keep
I need to watch the time

The boat comes by and sees me
Its speedy and its sleek
Taking corners tightly
Never seeming weak

Taking up my weapon
No space for a mistake
In the air I feel a presence
Nothing found for heaven’s sake

Drawing up my  dragger
No fear left in my gut
Looking for the piece of gold
Well hidden and well put. 

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

#stinewriting Blog Christine Bialczak poetry poems poetry Poetry to enjoy stinewriting Sunday Writing Prompt The Sunday Whirl: Weekly Wordles Weekend Writing Weekly Writing Prompt wordle

The Sunday Whirl: 10/03/2021

The Concert

Feeling quite frozen and nearly lost in this space

reluctantly leaving the comforts of a known place

Peering around for solace away from the crowd

Pulling his hat down since the venue was loud

He thought it quite lame to sit here and wallow

cramming down popcorn barely able to swallow

He pulls out his ticket to check for the date

Thinking maybe the show was just running quite late

He used to be patient and quiet and kind

Never the type to avenge a brilliant mind

But sitting for this long amongst noises and such

Made him remember why he disliked people so much

So he gets out his walking stick, set by his seat

Asking the near neighbors to tuck in their feet

Moves right along the row reserved just for him

Deciding a concert was a foolhardy whim.

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

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#stinewriting Blog Christine Bialczak poetry love poems poetry Poetry to enjoy stinewriting Sunday Writing Prompt The Sunday Whirl: Weekly Wordles Weekend Writing Weekly Writing Prompt

The Sunday Whirl

One of my favorite writing challenges! Check it out here

Do For You

I feel a flutter in my chest
and feel the wind beneath my wings
like a bird upon its cage
feeling free and so it sings
Needing nothing now but love
like a hanger for a shirt
wanting to be hanging out
not laying in the dirt
but the cold can come and take it
and try to halt its song
like a blocked path in a garden
a tree root is that strong
To deny yourself the freedom
like a child from a womb
is to wish you had no lifeline
Only future filled with doom
so you finish what you’re doing
try to stay along your way
keep your vision very close
don’t let sadness make you stray
Be eager to find that someone
to share your love, your flow
and go just where your heart leads
don’t stop or let that go.

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

#stinewriting Blog Christine Bialczak poetry love poems poetry Poetry to enjoy stinewriting The Sunday Whirl: Weekly Wordles Weekend Writing Weekly Writing Prompt wordle

The Sunday Whirl

Click here to read about the challenge

Happy Again

I thought about the role I’d played

as an energy surged right by

like a gust of wind on a rainy day

trying to stay unequivocally dry

I thought I’d send a card to her

in the fashion of a formal note

a photo of me in the Sunday choir

with a mask and a scarf and a coat

The storm itself went rolling by

as my letter did fall to the floor

I put my hands upon the counter

And stared through the blinds on the door

When all of a sudden I saw the light

of someone just driving by

It was my love and to my surprise

We both laughed then started to cry

We hugged and talked and hugged some more

and couldn’t part hands at all

I told her that I loved her so, so much

and how happy I was for her call.

©2021 CBialczak Poetry