Pillow (an acrostic poem)

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Plowing and sowing the world of sleep

It was hard work, but he was a farmer to his soul

Little furrows stretched to the horizon containing the roots of fertile dreams and scream-inducing nightmares

Lying there, waiting to be harvested

Once he was ready and picked them, Morbius would pay him handsomely for this crop

Wait till the slumbering humans were served these delectables!

Smoke (an acrostic poem)

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So many wires going here and there

More than what is needed right now, but you want to be ready for the future

Oh I know it can get confusing, but that’s okay

Keep track of everything right up here in my big old brain

Except I forgot and now the smoke alarm is going off. Damn!

*a semi-fictitious tale. There was no smoke in my case. lol

Nervous (an acrostic poem)

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Never sang in front of more than a couple dozen people before

Evert could feel his legs try to quiver with just the mere thought of the packed concert hall

Ready and waiting for him to come on stage and open his mouth to let those songs free

Vivian smiled warmly as she straitened his collar.  “You’ve got this.”

Oh, he got something all right.  Got to go to the bathroom that is.

Under the harsh bathroom light, he looked himself in the eye and thought..

So what was it going to be?  That’s when he threw up.

Meal (an acrostic poem)

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Making food always made him feel both happy and sad.

Every morsel that left his kitchen was a love note to those who ordered it.

A loving response was an empty plate that came back, ready to be cleaned for a new missive.

Leaving food on the plate meant rejection and left him wondering what went wrong.

Crush (an acrostic poem)

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Can’t take my eyes off you, you gorgeous thing

Really girlfriend, I want to consume you whole

Until you are all gobbled up.  Yummy, yummy, yummy!

So get ready to have my tongue touch every single part of you, you…

Hot hot hot fudge sundae!

Ready (an acrostic poem)

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Relaxing against the wall, he watched his classmates convulse on the dance floor

Everything that night had been disastrous.  First, his date ditched him

And she decided to slow dance with the person who used to be his best friend

Drinking his punch, he wondered what could possibly happen next, but then he laughed

Yes, he knew what was going to happen next.  His master plan was working perfectly.

Prototype (an acrostic poem)

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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?

New Year (an acrostic poem)

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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

Scrap (an acrostic poem)

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So many pieces of his soul littered the landscape of his life

Cluttering memories with strong emotions

Reaching down he picked up a shard, careful not to crush it

A bit of a smile flashed across his face

Perhaps it was just the cocoon that he needed to emerge beautiful and ready to fly