Dear Bonne Maman (French for grandmother)

How is shopping in the afterlife?
out of this world and divine?
Your thrift store finds
still scent the hope chest

wish I still had the leopard pants
You gave me when I was 9, not only are they
the latest style, they’d fit!

Not every sale is worth it but every sale is worth checking out!

Met some ladies in your last retirement home
thrift store shopping in each others rooms
Dressed in their Sunday best, pearls and bright lipstick

Shop till you drop fabulously!

Think of you often in the clunky, golden Cleopatra
necklace, colored chunky beads and weekly flyers

Thank you for the scintillating tips and bits
passed on from grandmother to granddaughter

they say we are a lot alike.  I share your shopping savvy with the great grand children, I’ll let you know when they listen

p.s. I ride my bike to the sales instead of a car (smaller footprint-generational thing)

Love your second hand thrift deal monger granddaughter

This is related to today’s prompt but is not from the voice of my grandmother. Working on that! It was a poem that I wrote a while ago, did a bit of editing. Going to try it in a different approach. Like the promt


The story goes on and on and on

Why is the world round?
Why are people mean?
Why do boys like their toys
Why does he love me?
Why doesn’t she like me?
why isn’t technology friendly?
Why are children starving?

Why do I have to wake up early?

I am a tree.  Animals pee on me.  Bugs crawl over me.
Birds poop on me.  Humans chop me down.
I have no choice.

Why is the crazy lady talking to the tree?
Can the tree hear?
Should I phone 911?
Should I ask her if she needs help?
Should I do something?
Does she need meds?
Can you do anything?

I am a rock……

(this is from today’s NaPoWriMo prompt.  I really like to try writing outside my style.  It is like a free class! We were to have every line a question except for the last line.  I guess this is a two poems, part of a long saga?)


The earliest happiness dates from 220 million years ago.  Happiness is one of the oldest reptile groups and a more ancient group that lizards, snakes or crocodiles.  Presently, happiness is highly endangered.

You cannot wear happiness.  Crocodile, snake and lizard boots, shoes and belts belong to crocodiles, snakes and lizards.

It is okay to throw snakes and ladders. If it is your game and you pick up the pieces.

Crocodile tears are a form of endangered happiness, get the crocodile out of the tear.  The crocodile will be happy in natural habitat and your tears will be truly yours.

 Happiness has been around for millions of years.  Check out your family tree.  You will find seeds of happiness.  Plant.

Happiness may not grow.  Do not despair. Try again, and again and again.  The next generation is counting on you.

(I forgot to post this yesterday. It is from yesterday’s prompt. I appreciate the prompts. They make me work in a different way, and truly play with words. I also have not been daily poetry writing due to preparing for job interview)

Charms for a journey to the other side

cardboard cat litter strewn housey
hairy fluff pillow and chewed catnip mousey
heating pad, automatic heater and treats
even just in dreams, hope we will meet
come back, little fairy cat and be mine
patiently waiting forever- yours all the time
This is dedicated to my Pepper cat who left on her journey
a few weeks ago, miss you sweetfurball.  This is the 3rd day
in NaPoWriMo-permission to write raw, badly and fabulously

Babbaaaaa Yaaga !

I called, placing a chin hair at her chicken feet
she game as glass shattered my morning porridge
protecting the pot of beans
I said, Baba you cant kill all my babies!
take the porridge.  take it!
leave me dinner
bloody white porridge splatters ate my watch
throwing myself on my bike (baba, it’s just like a modern day broom
she answered from a car screeching my bones
Okay so you’d rather drive.  I sped
faster and faster as she screamed sirens
up and down, whirling around until I
entered late.  No one questioned a crazy
hag snarling crookedly
Baba, I whispered go now, but tonight
Can we dance by the light of the moon? Bring
skulls and bones, I’ll bring my compost.
The door slammed
I got a coffee
and smoothed out my crone hairs.

This is from day 2 prompt for NaPoWriMo. Permission to write fast, raw, and unfinished

You can’t have it all, but there is this

“There is the voice you can still summon at will, like your mother’s.
It will always whisper, you can’t have it all, but there is this…. ” Barbara Ras

the curved silence nestles in the back cortex
shy breath whispers notes throughout
as you take little itty bitty steps
with your thread and needle sewing
your patchwork quilt.  Slap the slimy tentacles
when they get too close, they are allowed to
coo and caw but no eating!  When you get lost
the threads will show you the way back to the place you started.
As your earth-doll shuffles the smiling Buddha
smiles bigger silences.  Even letting the cat out is
a breath off fresh air.  She is shy, remember her she
may be all you have.  The quilt is a cover.


NaPoWriMo poem in progress.