Blue (an acrostic poem)

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Being depressed on a day where light rains down from a robin’s egg sky

Leaves her wanting to curse up and down for feeling blah on such a perfect day

Ultimately, she goes to her safe space, puts on some B.B. King, and curls up in a ball

Enveloped in her azure blanket, she lets loose her own rain

Sharp (an acrostic poem)

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Slicing through all the bull that was in his way

He cut to the heart of the matter with his acerbic wit

All the while looking damn good doing it

Reaching for a his negroni he took a satisfyingly bitter sip

Punctuating a perfect performance

Pastry (an acrostic poem)

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Perfect doughnuts penetrated my persnickety consciousness

All demanding my devotion to their deliciousness

So I complied, completely cashing out with my confections

Taking titillating bite after bite to toast my triumph

Realize that these rare respites from my diet restrictions

Yields too many yummy yeast infused carbs for my blood sugar

The Whole Package (a short story)

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Darryl handed Patricia a rectangularish box wrapped in the reddest foil that she had ever seen.  “Go ahead and open it.  This one’s from me.”  He was practically vibrating from excitement.

This was the first Christmas they had been together, so the idea of going to his parent’s house for the holiday seemed a bit much.  She preferred to keep things at arm’s length for longer, sort of to feel things out before getting too attached.  Still, he seemed so sweet on the idea that she decided to give in.

Patricia took the offering and tried to muster up a smile.  This container hurt her engineering soul.  She had gone to college for years studying the best way to package products.  She had won numerous awards for her ability to design the stuff that everything is put into.  She made it to be not only functional, but beautiful.  It was something she took immense pride in.

And yet the gift her boyfriend had given her was in a sorry state.  The top and one of the sides were bulging, ruining the angular pleasing aesthetic most boxes had.  He had undersized the box by at least two, two and a half centimeters on the long side.  Not only that, but she could feel that the cardboard selected was too thin for the amount of weight the poor reinforced paper had been asked to hold.  It practically buckled as she placed it on her lap.

Yeah, this wasn’t going well.  He probably had gone overboard, picking out something expensive to impress her.  People put too much emphasis on what was inside the box.  She knew what mattered was the thought that went into the product as a whole.  That’s why packaging was her passion.

Well, there was only one way to get this over with. 

Patricia deftly pealed back the cellophane tape.  She folded it upon itself and placed it on the side table next to her.  She could tell that Darryl wanted her to hurry up, but she wanted to honor the materials others carelessly discarded.  That is why she preferred to use bags to hold gifts.  They had a life, post present, with the probability of many regiftings in their future.  

If they had a future together she would have to train him better.

She unfolded the wrapping paper cocoon and laid it on top of the tape.  There was crafting supplies in its future if she could pawn it off on Darryl’s niece as long as Darryl’s sister didn’t notice till that crew was in the car on the ride home.  She would think of a way to entice the ten-year-old that origami roses were just a few folds away.

She contemplated the box.  Yes, that poor box was at death’s door.  There would be no upcycling this, at least without major reconstructive surgery.  Alas, you couldn’t save them all.

She looked into Darryl’s eager eyes as she opened the box.  He nodded, almost exploding with emotion.  She looked at what had been entombed just moments ago.  Inside there was a vast swath of Kelly green.  He at least had picked her favorite color.  She lifted the object out and shook loose sleaves.  She stared at a sweater unlike anything she had seen before.  There were occasional oblong holes, a few loops of yarn that didn’t attach to anything, and the left sleave was about a half inch longer than the right.  It was not what she had been expecting for sure.

She looked back at Darryl.

“I knitted it myself.  You said you always were getting cold at the apartment.  I thought it might be cool if I designed a package for you.”  He put air quotes around the word package.  “I love listening to you talk about that stuff, so you inspired me to do this.  You should have seen the three previous attempts.”

She took a closer look at the sweater and noticed how the stiches did get better the farther along they went.  He was really starting to get the hang of it by the end.  How much time did he put into this?  How many nights had he worked on this while they were on the phone?   He had sounded slightly distracted, but she put it up to him being annoyingly male.  Now she thought she knew why.  She stared at what was inside the package with a new appreciation for what was inside. 

 “Look, I know it’s not that good, but I ran out of time and…”

She collapsed the sweater to her chest as she interrupted him.  “It’s perfect.”  And in that moment, she knew he was a keeper.

Teeth (an acrostic poem)

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The gap in his grin was very off putting

Even though everything else was perfect

Eleanor tried to ignore it, to be happy, no thrilled, with all the rest

That proved futile since she kept finding herself focusing on it

His smile seemed to accentuate the piece of spinach stuck there

Grace (an acrostic poem)

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Give yourself a little space today

Realize that you are not perfect

And that no one in their right mind should expect that from you

Care for yourself and give yourself a huge mental hug

Everything might not be okay, but you can still grant yourself a little…

Beast (an acrostic poem)

Boy, he was so beautifully handsome that it almost hurt her eyes

Everything about his appearance was just so perfect

And all he wanted was to be with her, forever.  A dream come true

So when he showed his darker side it caught her by surprise.  The nightmares began

They only ended when the monster sunk his claws into her mind and her will died

 

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Rejected (an acrostic poem)

Rarely was Perry at a loss for words

Everything came easy to him, sometimes too easy

Jumping from relationship to relationship, never overplaying his hand

Eventually he was going to make a mistake

Clarice was the one that got away

That’s what attracted him to her, that she pushed him away

Embarrassing him by pointing out he was not the perfect one for her

Damned if she was right, but it still hurt

 

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