A-Z sketches in verse: Not Noticing

A Wild Card on Disregard

I wonder, with all due respect,

How oft we overlook, neglect.

When troubles trump a dear one’s lot,

We shuffle by without a thought.

Why would we play a few cards shy

While offering just “Hi” and “Bye”?

We wonder: Do we care enough?

Perhaps it’s time we called our bluff.

Intent to help, extend a hand,

We simply do not understand.

Have we forgot just how it felt

To play the cards that we’ve been dealt?

“Be well,” we toss a cheery word,

Not knowing that it sounds absurd.

Despite intentions best begun,

We grab our schedules, turn and run.

And in the mirror, I’m amazed.

I know the ante must be raised.

God help me, when one’s chips are down,

To have a heart and stick around.

c2015 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Image/s:

Vintage/public domain artwork

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Crafty Lobbies

Crafty Lobbies

Beware of both sides of the lobby,

Where practiced may be much hobnobby.

Each end needs a pill

To swallow and swill,

Before someone forms a lynch mobby.

For crafty these lobbyers be.

They seek to knit issues for free.

Perhaps both have lost

At premium cost,

Despite a Supreme Court decree.

c2014 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Image/s:

Created by this user

With public domain / vintage clipart

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A Quick Quack … or a Sure Smack

A Quick Quack … or a Sure Smack

(posted for the A to Z Challenge)

  

Q is for Quack!

 

April 17^th is Daffy Duck’s birthday. 

The feisty feathered comic character first appeared on April 17, 1937, in “Porky’s Duck Hunt” from Looney Tunes.

A Quick Quack … or a Sure Smack

For pains in the neck I’ve a knack,

From migraine, fatigue and attack.

Prescriptions to fill

Don’t yet fit the bill

From every quackety-quack.

My brain I continue to wrack.

Perhaps there is something I lack.

From fitness to food

And hormones to mood,

Must I see another old whack?

Perhaps we could give him the smack?

Images:

Daffy Duck

and

Porky Pig's Duck Hunt

Copyright Expired

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In Situ

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In Situ

As I write this blog entry, a treasured family member is undergoing surgery, replacing his cirrhotic liver with a donor organ. A 30-year-old man died tragically, but his organs may bring new life and a fresh start to my relative and many others in need.

Isn’t this a spiritual metaphor?

Can any of us bring new life to ourselves? In fact, real life often comes from death, as we see so beautifully expressed in the rebirth of spring all around us. And in the spiritual realm, are we not saved through the ultimate sacrificial death of all?

Vicarious Value

Capricious though our actions be,

Destroying psyche thoughtlessly,

And poisoning ourselves with glee –

We need a bailout, clear to see.

A new-sprung fountain, freshly filled,

May resurrect the body killed,

To gather up the lives we’ve spilled –

We need a force fit to rebuild.

Tumultuous, we bury law;

We flirt with foibles, flap the jaw,

Pursuing still a last hurrah –

Oh, how we need an inner thaw.

When will we gaze beyond the haze

To spot the One who merits praise?

We wander daily in a daze

And disregard divine displays.

What wonder may our lives rebirth?

Desires mask our deepest dearth.

May mercy reach beyond mere mirth

To summon us to lasting worth.

c2010 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Posted for a variety of prompts:

Monday Poetry Train (poem/s)

One Single Impression (“vicarious”)

Saturday Scribes (“capricious,” “new-sprung,” “thaw,” “tumultuous” and “psyche”)

Simply Snickers (“first, force” and “fresh”)

Weekend Wordsmith (“yawn”) or (“gaze”)

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Sometimes No Growth Is a Good Thing

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Sometimes No Growth Is a Good Thing

Often we speak of growth in positive terms. Maturity and personal growth are admirable aims. Economic growth is promising. Personal growth is good.

However, when we look at medical testing, a growth may be a scary thing indeed, as I recently discovered firsthand.

Actually, the whole thing was in my head.

The Tumor Is a Rumor

A Limericked Descent with All Best Intent

Of late, I awaited report,

The medical test result sort.

A thirty-day wait

At cancer’s dark gate

Left me seeking much prayer support.

Concentrically prearranged zones

Affect radiology tones.

Oncology nods

To find me at odds,

Refusing to echo their groans.

At last, all the numbers returned.

Pass word to all those still concerned:

The doctors let slip,

‘Twas merely a blip.

“The tumor’s a rumor,” I learned.

And now I am over the moon;

As doctors are changing their tune.

I sense greater bliss

Than any first kiss,

May God call me home none too soon.

c2009 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Posted for a variety of prompts:

Easy Street Prompts (“concentrically prearranged)

Meme Express (Sunday Invitation to Simply Snickers)

One Single Impression (“descent”)

Simply Snickers (“plan,” “please” and “pose”)

Sunday Scribblings (“first kiss”)

Weekend Wordsmith (“moon”)

Image/s:

Public domain art

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