Slice (an acrostic poem)

She held the knife in two hands like a samurai sword.

Looking at the watermelon, her sworn enemy, she bowed her head.

It was going to be a battle to the death, but she didn’t feel like dying tonight!

Cutting deftly, the watermelon never had a chance and soon it was bleeding chunks on her counter.

Extremely happy with herself, she popped a piece in her mouth and spit out the seeds.

Clogged (an acrostic poem)

Image: foxsanantonio.com/resources/media/8e111b18-b5e9-4e8d-8c9f-124aca2edb3e-large1x1_DumpHouse.jpg

Clutter rampaged across his mental landscape

Leaving a mess of chaos that scrambled his thoughts

Old ideas mixed with current observations and new connections

Giving him no chance to respond to her questions

Grimacing all he could do was shrug his shoulders

Everything he wanted to say tried to come out at the same time, allowing nothing to escape his lips

Distraught, he knew that job opportunity was lost

Siege (an acrostic poem)

Image: worldhistory.org/img/c/p/1200×627/2286.jpg

She felt under attack during her interview

It seemed that every person wanted to tear her apart, break her

Every time she had five minutes to herself, she almost broke down and cried

Getting this chance was her way to something so much better, but was the battle worth it

Examining her casualties, she decided no. 

Prototype (an acrostic poem)

Image: mcl.bz/hubfs/Blog%20images/Post-Images/Engineering%20Drawing%20875×450.png

Putting together yet another try was one of the most satisfying things he did

Reaching down he snapped in the last fitting and took a breath, ready to see if it worked

Of course, building all these iterations was also one of the worst things he could do

They reminded him of the numerous failures he didn’t plan for, that he was a bad engineer

Only he knew there was almost zero chance that the first one would work out of the box

That was the stuff of myths, legends, and dumb luck

Yearning to know if this was the one, he flipped the on switch

Prepared for sparks to fly and flames to claim one more attempt

Except this time it didn’t burn.  It still didn’t work, but that was still progress?

Dice (an acrostic poem)

Image: liveabout.com/thmb/oD2sGAnKtdZnxx5p0ivTIziC7UI=/2242×2242/smart/filters:no_upscale()/GettyImages-93453966-59684e1d3df78c57f49b0c91.jpg

Determined to let chance decide not only my fate but everyone’s

I rolled the five of them, hoping for the best, but needing a perfect result

Couldn’t look as they spun to a stop

Everyone gasped.  I peeked at the result before screaming triumphantly.  The dragon was dead!

Radiate (an acrostic poem)

Image: upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/5c/Sun-in-the-sky.jpg

Revealing light streams over the landscape

Abstract shapes resolve into the finite

Dictating reality to manifest yet again

It warmed her heart every time it happened

As the sun slowly eased itself above the threshold of the horizon

The green flash announcing its next jaunt across the sky

Exciting her eyes with the potential of a new chance, a new day

Replace (an acrostic poem)

Image: blog.ev.uk/hubfs/Broken%20mirrors%20blog_2.jpg

Realizing there are times when you are broken inside

Everything just rattles around and you feel the stabbing of the sharp pieces

Putting that back together would be difficult if not impossible

Leaving what would be left is an incomplete you

As some of the parts would be lost or the edges rounded to leave gaps

Covered with tape and superglue.  Looking in the mirror you don’t recognize your own soul

Embrace a new chance, a new hope, a new you and let the rubble be recycled

Handle (an acrostic poem)

Image: i.pinimg.com/736x/a1/d0/2e/a1d02ecf43948df5e1a16a984e95a38b.jpg

Holding onto her with both hands, not wanting to ever let her go

And yet there she was, spinning away from me, somehow slipping from my grasp

Now I tried to catch her, I tried so hard

Didn’t stand a chance, though

Life slowed down as she fell to the pavement and shattered

Ever since then, I put my cellphone in a case with a…

Brain (an acrostic poem)

Image: cdn.britannica.com/q:60/16/170816-050-0FB450D3/Brain-illustration.jpg

Beating up her heart with blows of pure logic

Reality was there was no chance this was really love

Almost certainly it was just hormones and nothing more

It was a waste of time, and her resources were better used studying

Not that she could think of anything but the taste of his lips…

New Year (an acrostic poem)

pexels-photo-3401897.jpeg

Now everyone was counting the seconds

Excited about a new beginning, a new something

What changes were possible

Yet he sat on the couch and sipped his champagne calmly

Every day was his chance to begin anew, to try to right his wrongs

And that allowed him to find peace with himself every night as he went to sleep

Ready to celebrate a new chance, a new resolution, every day.  That was worth celebrating