Pesto Amore

Tomato-Basil Pesto Pasta

Sun-dried tomato / basil pesto pasta

Sun-dried they wait
tomatoes to be snipped
into the bath to soak
balsamic and water
one part to one part

Basil leaves
in the morning snipped
on a paper towel blanket
for the day left to rest

Olive oil a splash
Pinot Noir a dash
olives green finely chopped
Kalamata treated the same

Into the food prep
with brine a touch
garlic clove roasted
into a paste whipped

Meanwhile pasta cooks
vegetables simmer
two sets of hands ablur
heady aroma allure

Cuisine-sex-love
yes to all of the above

Weather the Storm — a villanelle

Weather the storm no matter how you are tossed
Beat by striving the tempest-churned sea
Save your soul no matter the cost

Stay at the tiller or all is lost
Defeat despair till sunshine you see
Weather the storm no matter how you are tossed

Dismay not though the waves accost
Man your post faithfully until set free
Save your soul no matter the cost

Determine that this rough piece shall be crossed
Dispel all doubts that this will be
Weather the storm no matter how you are tossed

Keep at it no matter how your efforts exhaust
Renew with shouts and songs of glee
Save your soul no matter the cost

Beat the storm whether tropic hot or with frost
Persist, persist!  The tempest soon shall flee
Weather the storm no matter how you are tossed
Save your soul no matter the cost

Join the poetic bunch at dVerse Poets Pub tonight, where the challenge is the form known as the Villanelle.

 

Can Ye Not Discern?

PA Towns

How many there are who gaze
toward the sky but do not see,
or, more, those who wear blinders
to the sunset or the dawn.  They hide
their eyes from the face of the sky!

More oblivious than the Pharisees,
clueless as the High Council, seeking
what stands before them, asking
for what they are unable to read.

Gentlemen and ladies we stand
butt deep in prophets who wag
their tongues before us, declaiming
in chorus strident their fruited ignorance.

We seek a sign!  We seek a sign!
our hearts unanswerably beat out.
But what shall we ultimately be given,
but the whale’s tale, or a crap-load of bunkum?

When seekers from politicians seek
answers that of that kindred are kept
then huge lumps of lucre will pass
from hand to hand, and we shall know…

no better off are we.

 

Tonight at dVerse Poets Pub, Mish is serving up drinks and this prompt: “Today I’d like you to choose a sign as a visual prompt. Let it speak to you metaphorically or as an allegory. Let it take you to a deeper place or even a comical place. Your sign does not need to have words, as symbols have stories and voices too. The choice is yours.”

A Pinch of Pepper

Beatles2

 

Cryptic concept.

(Beach Boys bring Pets)

Sing-along singles.
Surreptitious signals.
Fifty years, hippies still seeking.

(Blue Moodies make many)

Starkey sticks it.
McCartney makes it.
Lennon envisions it.
Harrison Vishu’s it.

(Dark Side does one better)

Twenty… Fifty…

Paul still asking the essential question.

It’s Quadrille night at dVerse Poets Pub.  In honor of the 50th anniversary of “It was twenty years ago today…” we are being asked to include the word “pepper” (as in Sgt. Pepper) somewhere in our poem.  Join us and enjoy!

 

 

a question of pronouns

her dog would growl and chew my shoe
I don’t know why I’m good with pets
she never bit me her tail always wagged
I stopped seeing her her interest flagged

I don’t know why I’m good with pets
I stopped seeing her her interest flagged
you never know when it’s bound to end
we broke it off clean she’s not even a friend

I stopped seeing her her interest flagged
we broke it off clean she’s not even a friend
dogs read people well cats are a breeze
the trouble with cats is they share their fleas

you never know when it’s bound to end
she never bit me her tail always wagged
I don’t know why I’m good with pets
her dog would growl and chew my shoe

So what do great poets do when they are strapped for inspiration?  I don’t know; that’s why I’m asking.  What I did today was create a form (okay, a disclaimer: this may have already been a form that I just happened to re-create unwittingly… but it seemed like I was creating it, so until I hear otherwise….).  I call it the “B3elle.”  I called it that because we were in Bikes, Beans and Bordeaux, a local eatery (hence B3) and I added the “elle,” because, hey! it sounds poet-icky.  The rhyme scheme is ABC(1)C  BCD(1)D  CDEE  D(1)C(1)BA.  This is my first attempt at the form.

Tonight is Open Link night at dVerse Poets Pub; a fine opportunity to test drive the B3elle!

The Ballad of Eraser and Pablum

Erasure Head

Eraser Head Donnegan

Pablum McGurk

Pablum McGurk

Eraser Head Donnegan and Pablum McGurk
Wasted no time but went quickly to work
Quickly arrested and quicker set free
the two set out on a robbery and murder spree
Eraser handled the rub-outs Pablum the wheel
though a terrible driver she made tires squeal
They robbed local banks and a retirement home
and farmers and fishers, across the land they did roam.
The coppers got wise, glommed onto them in a snap
they planned a huge dragnet and then baited the trap.
“Don’t let’s go,” Pablum McGurk decried,
But Eraser was the head, and the two of them died.

Pablum got herself in a terrible mix
and she and Eraser got themselves… rubbed out.

Okay, it seemed like a simple, unassuming prompt.  Lillian, behind the bar at dVerse Poets Pub pointed us to a rogue’s gallery and double dog dared us to write a poetic response to an image.  I picked two… and that’s when things went kaflooey.