She'd gotten so behind in daily chores
That she had harvested a diff'rent reed
Than what was used for bedding. Khamenhors
Did what she could, then hurried off to feed
Her children. That night she and Amunhild
Slept on papyrus, at least until rain --
Most unexpected in this season -- filled
Their dwelling with floodwaters. Her quick brain
Took note of what the fibers from beneath
Their linens had become, first pressed quite flat
Then soaked, then sun-dried! She grabbed up a sheaf
Of fresh papyrus from the Nile's banks "That
Was not an accident. Look what we've found!
Its usefulness outweighs our loss all round!"
Thursday, March 31, 2016
She'd gotten so behind in daily chores
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
The seeds she'd planted simply wouldn't sprout,
And soon she noticed that the water's taste
Was foul straight from the tap. She asked about
And no one's garden seemed to flourish. Waste?
Pollution? Effluent? What was the cause?
No scientist could answer that; no test
Could tell just what had happened. All the laws
Protecting their environment -- the best
In any region -- all were working well.
Yet e'en the bees and butterflies had failed.
At last a chance remark -- "So this is hell" --
Revealed what had occurred. A demon, jailed
In ages ere the Flood, had broken free
And cursed the land and soil -- all it could see.
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Don't ask me how I've been. You'll never see
What I have seen, or feel what I have felt.
Just like I'll never know the guilt you free
And untouched souls profess. My hand was dealt.
'Twas I the creature took in all your stead,
'Twas I whose body suffered from its touch,
Whose mind was so polluted. Mine's the bed
Where... No, you cannot trick me. It's too much.
Stop thanking me. I didn't choose to spare
The rest of you. I'd gladly, if the chance
To change things came, throw you at it to bear
What I did. I'm no savior. At a glance,
I'd say... All right, then, fine. Come feel
The skin that I don't have left. It's all real.
Monday, March 28, 2016
Exploring was a trait passed with the genes
In Linus Benson's family. He, too,
Grew restless when in too-familiar scenes,
And so when he was grown, he aimed for blue
And boundless skies he'd conquer with a plane
Of his design. But on his maiden flight
Aboard the craft he'd named Untamed Elaine
(His mother), long before he came in sight
Of far Antarctica, he was pulled down
By forces quite unknown. Soon did he find
That he not alone. The island, crowned
By a volcano's dormant cone, did bind
His wild imagination, for the shape
Of his own mother, stone-carved, made him gape.
Sunday, March 27, 2016
"I need some bigger pecs. That model's fired.
And anyway, our skin tones just don't match."
"Dear Leader, but that brand new guy we hired
Can fix all that. He's really quite a catch.
What he can't do with software--" "No! We don't
Manipulate my image that way. Real
Or nothing," growled the president. "I won't
Have history say I am not The Deal."
The model, goosebumps raising on his skin
Bowed low and soon withdrew. "My god, he's big,"
Admired Dear Leader. "All right, drop him in.
But spray tan him some more, 'cause that's the gig.
My head upon his body. Chop him now.
I want to wear him out tonight. Don't bow."
Saturday, March 26, 2016
To seed a world with life is no small thing,
And rarely was it done with true intent.
This time, though, that strange faction, the Green Wing
Watched eagerly from far off as they sent
Those precious cells away to colonize
A planet of their choosing. How the wait
Did torture them! The generation's eyes
Who would behold their fruit would have a great
From then. But when the time came for to see
What had evolved, nought but hysteria
Resounded through the spheres, a vast "tee-hee!"
There's xenogenesis, when children's paths
Diverge from parents... But these just brought laughs!
Friday, March 25, 2016
At last she simply trudged into the dawn
That stained the sand and sage in orange and gold.
A painter might enjoy it. Alice, head
Afire, and feeling like she'd grown quite old
Just wandering this wasteland, soon could see
A weird mirage. A table in the dust
Was set for tea. Some figures, maybe three,
Bent over it, but with each passing gust
Of scorching wind, would rise and move along
Around it, on occasion trading blows.
Not far beyond them, Alice got a strong
Impression of a fin approaching. Those
Who reveled there ignored it as they poured
Sand from a pot into their cups, too bored.
Thursday, March 24, 2016
She'd been so sure all day, it was a prank,
The kid who'd told her, how could he have known?
They'd been in school all day, fish in a tank,
Their campus closed, their motions watched (She'd grown
Annoyed at this, and many months were left
'Til graduation set her free). But Chris
Insisted that the Wall was falling, kept
On whispering so in hallways. Wouldn't this
Be something they'd be summoned for to see
On TV in the library? But Sue
Was thinking of her time zone. Germany
Was many hours ahead. She learned 'twas true
When Tom and Garrick said so. Chris, that sneak
Kept secret how he'd learned it for a week!
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
The camping trip had started nice enough,
With tasty snacks, fresh-roasted from the fire,
But quickly things had gotten rather rough;
An unknown interloper'd tripped the wire
And his whole family, now on alert,
Were armed and anxious, ready for the kill!
They followed shoe-prints in the sandy dirt
And acted out some half-imagined drill
Of self-defense. As flames now flickered low
His children's tension nearly drove him mad.
He bade them all to calm down and to go
To sleep, but there was no rest to be had.
"Oh, Sasquatch, you had human sightings once.
They, too, need tales of crazy childhood stunts."
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
Do watch your step while on the castle grounds
Was good advice that Richard failed to heed.
His trespass there did not make any sounds,
And no one missed the things he took. A weed,
However, dusted pollen o'er his boots,
And that got on his hands when those came off,
And then he scratched his nose. No tiny shoots
Did sprout; 'twas all more subtle. With each cough
He gave up oxygen, soon ceased to breathe
At all. His pores grew large, for taking in
That other gas; his skin turned green; soon leaves
Replaced his hands, and roots his feet. Within,
His thoughts slowed down. Then soon all motion stopped.
Within a fortnight, Richard Tree was chopped.
Monday, March 21, 2016
"Oh, Robin, Robin," quoth Lance, "Decent try,
But none of us would fall for that. We know
Those islands are not Russian. You think I
Am pretty stupid, don't you?" "Oh, just go--"
"No, you were right to do it." "You admit --?"
"I've written a new case, all on my own
To beat you with." "You cocky little --" "It
Won't matter in the long run. I have grown
Because of you, and thank you." Robin threw
Her hands up, stalked into the classroom, met
Her partner's gaze and calmed a bit. She drew
A breath, and soon the battle lines were set.
Just thirty minutes later, all was sweet.
Her sneaky foe was bitter in defeat.
Sunday, March 20, 2016
Convenience was his at last! His hand
Curled 'round the new device (it fit just right
As had been advertised) and, as he'd planned,
Adapted without effort to his bright
And well-arranged surroundings. Just a touch
And windows dimmed, the coffee, measured out
Just as he liked, began to brew. So much
He'd never need to give a thought about!
He waved it towards the screen, and on it came,
And was already tuned to what he'd sure
Enjoy: 'twas just in time to see the game!
But wait! No sound? The manual had the cure.
He tuned it to his hearing aids. But lo:
All he could hear was sponsors' ads. Oh no!
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
The curtains seemed too long at first, as she
Replaced the rod and hung them. In a bunch
Along the baseboard, excess cloth would be
An eyesore. Just as she, though, had a hunch
On how to fix this, suddenly 'twas fine!
The fabric, so it seemed, had shortened -- no!
The windows had grown taller. No, a line
Of brand new drywall, actually, did grow
Before her eyes. The room was taller! And,
She realized, the footprint here had shrunk,
Conserving volume. She reached out a hand
To grab the former window treatment, drunk
With fear. When she replaced the shabby lace
The room was bare -- she'd gone without a trace!
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Yes, draw your curtains. No one needs to see
What happens next. I've kept my appetite
Blade-sharp; that's not too easy for a free
And feral creature such as I. This night
I'll taste your iron. You like your red meat,
I know that, for your meals I've watched, a fan,
These many weeks, from out here in the street.
You don't suspect that you're a hunted man,
Nor that you won't be missed. No one will know
You've been devoured. I'll pick you from my teeth,
And take your place. No difference will show
Once I've digested you. Here I come, chief.
"Oh, mister, can you help jump-start my car?
I'm so alone and scared, and home's so far!"
Monday, March 7, 2016
A week went by, another meet was on.
Alas, though, Lance's team had gone elsewhere.
But news had spread somewhat of his big con,
At least so far as case-theft. In despair,
She took some time between debates to load
Her cache with more faked evidence and things
He'd be a fool to say. "I'll squash that toad
One way or 'nother," she declared, "I'll fling
Him in the fire! I'll make him wish he'd not--"
Her partner interrupted. "Hey, we should
Be focusing on this meet. We have got
A season yet." "You're right. We'll get him good."
Another week then passed, and there he sat,
Ipad in hand and smug as any cat.
Sunday, March 6, 2016
At long last, Rowan got his PhD,
Regalia cost too much, though, to afford,
So he did not march. Ceremony'd be
Of no importance to his plans. "Record
It for me," he told Jon-boy, and began
His job hunt, now in earnest. Listings were
Quite hard to find, and secret. Our young man
Knew entry level was his lot. 'Twould spur
Him to achieve! At his first interview
His hopes were dashed. "I'm sorry, Doctor Frank,
But we need more experience to do
This job." "But it's just mopping aisles! I --" Blank.
"My meth lab needs a janitor," said Jon.
"We can't pay, but I'm sure they'd take you on."
Saturday, March 5, 2016
The fine print on his air license was clear:
'Twas based upon consumption, not on time.
But Pepper thought he'd paid up for a year,
And kept on filibustering. The climb
In readings on his meter grew quite steep
When he protested policy on who
Could marry on the station. In his sleep
He missed the cut-off, woke up, lips turned blue
And screamed, thus wasting oxygen. No one
Seemed much concerned. His bluster had not made
Him popular. "Shoot him into the sun,"
A wag suggested, but his corpse was laid
At last in a symbolic heap of stuff
Like what he'd spewed life-long. 'Twas ripe enough...
Friday, March 4, 2016
It hadn't been the best year for their sport,
But nothing keeps a fisher off the ice
While it is solid. This week, the report
On same said that conditions would be nice,
And one tagged fish still swam free in the lake.
So Mikel and his sister packed their gear
And ventured forth, thereby to shortly take
Their place in legend -- for this was the year
The ice troll took up residence beneath
The surface of those waters. When it took
Their bait, it took them, too, into the deep.
It used poor Inge's head to bait its hook,
And now it is a fisher, yea, of men.
How shall we make those waters safe again?
Thursday, March 3, 2016
The best horseshoes in all the counties came,
From Milo's forge, as ev'rybody knew.
Indeed, as years went by, his given name
Fell to disuse. They called him Smith, for true.
So when the Normans first invaded, those
Who would repel them flocked to Milo. "Make
Of these, fine swords!" They held before his nose
Plowshares and other scraps. Much of it wouldn't take
An edge that could cut butter, but he thought
The better of so disappointing lords
Such as were crowding him. Then Milo got
A fine idea. He had some metal, wrapped in cords
That he'd been saving. He would take their trash,
But use his treasure, be done in a flash!
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
She should have left, but now she was confused.
"Which way," asked Alice, pointing hard, "Is that?"
The rose of dawn was in the sky. "I used
To call that west. Today, though," Like a cat
The creature twitched its whiskers. "I shall call
It... south!" "But that makes no sense. You can't just
Reset your compass like that! Not at all!"
The skunk-thing blinked and belched. "Oh well, you must
Decide yourself. It's boring, though, to keep
On calling things the same thing ev'ry day.
Well, off with you. And mind you, it gets steep
Off south, there." "Thanks, I think I'll find my way
Without your mad 'directions.'" "That's just fine.
Just watch out east; don't fall into that mine!"
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
At greatest cost, and travels far and wide,
And hardships past the telling, Kafye held
Within his grasp the true elixir. "Guide
Him well," intoned the master, who had dwelled
Alone these long millennia, as he drank.
A look of bliss o'ertook that ancient face
Ere it was dust. Then Kafye, who ne'er shrank
From rudeness, crowed his vict'ry. Of our race
Alone would he ne'er feel the touch of death,
Or age. And he had drunk of this while young,
Unlike the one he'd robbed. A ragged breath
Escaped him then, a cry of pain now wrung
From searing lips. Eternal agony,
Alone, now was his lot. So must out be.