The Woman at 106 – #Etheree, #DoubleEtheree


Lives at
Rides a ten-speed,
Listens to a mix
Of classic rock and soul.
Once you get past the bricks
Guarding her house and her ego,
You’ll see to whom my heart is transfixed
But God says I must admire from afar.

Joined no
Stupid cliques
Back in high school
Where girls had no dicks.
I’d swim the river Styx
And challenge Pluto for her,
But I can’t cross the crucifix
As He stares me down and tattle-tells
To my boss, to my mom, to politics.

This was written for Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday #136, a photoprompt. I don’t really know where this came from, but I just looked at that peaceful little housefront and tried to imagine who lived there. The bicycle drew my attention. With “women’s bikes’ relatively rare out there, I tried to cultivate this image of a person trying really hard to seem feminine. As a North Carolinian, I’ve had close exposure to extremely transphobic laws and situations, and I guess that inspired this poem.

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Kelly and Sandrias

old couple walking while holding hands

“I’m sorry,” Kelly told her beloved, “But I can’t help you plow.” She cupped a wrinkled hand over his elven ears. Her old face failed to match his youthful skin.

Sandrias shook his head. “I didn’t mean for you to.”

“Will you still remember me when you finally get old?”

“Of course.” He held her hand. “I’m jealous of humans. You experience life so fast, then move on to the next life together.”

“You could have fallen in love with an elf,” Kelly offered.

“I could have – but I’ve loved every stage of our lives together, including this one.”


This was written for this week’s Carrot Ranch Prompt, growing old.  I play a buttload of D&D, and one of the concepts that intrigues me is half-elves, because I don’t see how an elf’s maturity would be timed well enough with a human’s maturation. I personally think elf-human love would be difficult to achieve, but you know, whatever.

Photo by Noelle Otto on

The Damp Flat at the Bottom of the Steps


I was only joking,
But he didn’t think so.
I said I’d stop poking,
But he knew I won’t.

The day was bright, clear,
Not rainy like I’d expect
When someone held so dear
Marches away, up the steps.

Where will he go now?
He’s left my damp flat
Because of a dumb row.
Perhaps he’ll turn ’round?

I want to give him chase,
But I’d accomplish naught.
His memory I’ll just erase.
If I can.  If I may.


This was written for the Crimson’s Creative Challenge prompt #16 as part of my series of posts to spotlight some newer prompts that deserve more love.  Crimson’s prompts are weekly photo prompts, and I’ve seen that Crimson is highly active around the WP world.  Totally give this blog a follow and give this prompt a try!

Our Lizard Overlords: A Sonnet

artistic blossom bright clouds

Nary a day may pass that I don’t weep,
Considering your scaly hide beneath
Some guy’s soft flesh used as your body sheath.
So before I pray and lay down to sleep,
I consider how your anger must seeth
As foul human cattle turn Earth to heath.
I’ll turn off my computer with a beep
And stop spreading lies about your intent.
The lizard man in human flesh is kind,
A good reptilian father to his
Underling livestock filled with malcontent.
Accept your lot and I’m certain you’ll find
Falling in love with master is your fate.


This petrarchan love sonnet was written for the weekly Terrible Poetry Contest sponsored by the inimitable Chelsea Ann Owens.  This week, we were inspired to write a love sonnet.  I don’t believe in lizard overlords nor many conspiracies such as this, but I find them funny and suitably distasteful.  7-11 was a part time job.  

Secrets – #Senryu

heart shaped red neon signage

My heart beats so fast
What ignites this keen craving?
Your hidden secrets?

Let me uncover
The essence of your power
And relish in it.

By gaining your trust,
I become vulnerable,
Naked, and open.

My heart beats so fast.
What ignites this keen craving?
My spilled secrets?


I wrote this scandalous thing for the Valentine’s-Day ready Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday #123. The synonym words are in bold.  This is four senryu, and I’m not sure the repetition at the end is really allowed, but I thought it gave exactly the feeling I wanted it to. 

Photo by Designecologist on