dieter’s goggles

Tags

, ,

When I see the word “local” my eyes play a trick
and don’t read it like most others do
“nearby, immediate, close” doesn’t stick
instead the word splits right in two
my cyclical dieter’s brain sees “Lo – Cal”
the restricted, starving gal’s dream,
a carrot? some tuna! diet soda, your pal –
(Amid fantasies decked in ice cream)
deprivation’s the cure for your problem immense,
thunderous thighs, bubble butt, double chin –
the promise of lost pounds a great recompense
for the incessant search to be thin

by Melissa Kro.

Old habits die hard.

via Daily Prompt: Local

Advertisements

the relief of being imperfect

Tags

, , , ,

It’s been a long time since I wrote something. All of my spare (non-working) hours have been devoted to end-of-the-school-year activities and fixing-up-the-house projects. I made a promise to myself to write consistently. I feel failure and guilt in not meeting my goals. I miss the brain wracking effort of making a word prompt fit the angles of a poem. This is my life; facing up to inconsistency and relaunching the effort. Today’s word is relieved.

the relief of being imperfect

Apparently I am
the keeper
of that personality type,
when on a good day
may reach
a perfect specimen of
dignity
diligence
duty, a
tidy package
of existence.
Of course, this cannot
last – cut
the tether, please!
& upon sharp release
relieved of perfection
the deluge takes purchase,
rush to equilibrium or
(on a bad day)
one face first,
loose
fallible
stumble
earthward

by Melissa Kro.

via Daily Prompt: Relieved

some bubbles are meant to be punctured

Tags

,

everything I see
is tainted, a
painful squint across
the gossamer web of
fear, laced with doubt and
forget-me-nots.
this life
is not for the weak,
each of us fighting
demons
trapped within
foggy membranes of
our own impenetrable
construct.
everything I see
is tainted, and
I know this
believe this
each waking morn
I feel this,
gasping
dawn’s cool air;
the clutch
for something sharp
a singular thought –
blade/scissors/fingernail
anything to puncture,
rend the walls
see the truth

via Daily Prompt: Puncture

marital construction

Tags

We are building a deck,
greenish wooden planks
cut into angles, joined
by curlicued steel.
Over there are
stringers, posts, boards
split to uniform
length x width and
we bind them with
a merciless tempo, our
squealing screw gun
hammer kicking cacophony
rings clear
and true. This is
a puzzle,
sticks metal sweat
lashed with profanity
and laughter,
a job well done, yes
a job well done.

by Melissa Kro.

via Daily Prompt: Uniform

growing up

Tags

, ,

when you were born
the world fell away
incredible joy
clutching fear,
cloying
desperate
beautiful.
now, you are older
there are cruelties, a
monstrously tiny
maze of traps,
enticing taut
glitter toothed jaws
lying in wait
and you
must navigate this,
trace
your own
winding path.
influence is
a fading gem;
our gift, our curse
lies in words,
pride and wisdom
cloying
desperate
hopeful.

by Melissa Kro.

via Daily Prompt: Trace

astronomy as a business plan

Tags

When he opens his mouth
I see stars,
and not beautiful celestial bodies,
dazzlingly hot and mysterious
and real –
but star-forms on the ceiling
of a tempestuous boy’s room,
cheap glow-in-the-dark plastic
softly luminescent,
daring you blink, there
a twinkle! a reprieve
from daylight’s burdens.
This boy dreams
not of telescopes and the
milky way, instead
he concocts
a plan to gild them
dazzling! rich! gold!
and auction to
the highest bidder.

by Melissa Kro.

via Daily Prompt: Reprieve

adrift

Tags

when one considers the word
adrift,
what comes to mind?
a raft lost on open waters
undulating and salt-sick,
the gentle unmooring of
a lonely soul,
searching for scraps of
hope – a compass needle,
a tattered map,
whispered voices
begging for nightfall,
thank polaris!
we shout, assuming above all
that anyone presumed lost
begs to be found

by Melissa Kro.

via Daily Prompt: Adrift

imposter syndrome

Tags

, ,

my thoughts are lies.
there, i said it –
confidence is
but a farce,
that honest calm expected
of my age and gender
supplanted by
twitchy-skinned
anxiety.
i can’t believe
my CV, although earned
(and lived) and
the word deserve is
blood on my lip. what
to do?
walking within these
doubtful bones
and brains
a human,
whole
to those outside
but faulty parts to
me. my thoughts are lies,
i know but do not
believe.

by Melissa Kro.

via Daily Prompt: Farce

who really likes meetings?

Tags

, ,

last week, last year
or yesterday, this thing
we call work and all of
the related paraphernalia
is invariably subject to meetings,
those often hellish groupings
of similarly focused folks
(some more passionate ’bout The Cause
than others)
where some talk
and fewer listen
about synergistic paradigms
closing loops through
leveraged collaboration
of core competencies
the only result being
assurance of future meetings
ad nauseam,
in perpetuity

by Melissa Kro.

via Daily Prompt: Collaboration