Fan (an acrostic poem)

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Forcing air to get its behind moving in front of the spinning tines

As the blades cut up the parts that lollygagged behind

Nothing will ever be the same ever again

Bonus poem:

Focused obsessively on the one-way relationship she had with Him

Always finding out of the way moments to try to finally be with Him

Now that restraining order will be a problem, but it won’t stop her love of Him

Vessel (an acrostic poem)

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Image by my 14 year old daughter

Vehicle for fluids is raised for another toast

Enables waking dreams as you stumble being possessed

Sometimes you can host a multitude of different spirits simultaneously

Such as wine, beer, and hard liquors

Enough visitors that you reach your max occupancy limit, and you’re forced outside your body

Leaving you empty and full of yourself at the same time

Gravity (an acrostic poem)

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Given how much it meant to her, this failure left her soul feeling heavy

Reason told her this time wasn’t any different then the million times before

And she knew she should let go of that emotional weight

Vanity wouldn’t let that happen, though

It kept her rooted firmly on the ground

That pressure to beat Sisyphus by pushing up her metaphorical boulder

Yielded the same result.  She never left her personal black hole

Trail (an acrostic poem)

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The path through the trees split around one prominent trunk

Reaching that point, I paused and thought which side should I take

At a quick glance both seemed pretty well traveled

It left me a bit sad since I wanted to follow Frost’s advice

Leaving me but one choice.  I climbed the tree and my perspective was never the same again.

Change (an acrostic poem)

 

Can’t things just remain the same?

He shook his head reading the paper about another closure

As if being single wasn’t hard enough

Now where would he meet women?  He hated Tinder.

Going on Twitter just made his skin crawl

Even though this virus likely wouldn’t kill him, his love life was RIP.

 

Image: christenseninstitute.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/Change-image.jpg

Routine (an acrostic poem)

Reaching for her car keys, Delilah headed out the door

Outside she got into her car and pulled out of her driveway

Under the slate-gray sky she drove through traffic to get to work

There she punched the time clock and began her shift

In her breaks, she chatted with the same people and told the same jokes

Never did it dawn on her on her way home that she should do something different

Every day might have been the same, but that’s what she so loved about it

 

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