Adult “W.O.M.” Poems

Each month this blog will feature a word of the month to stimulate a poem. Anyone who wishes to share a poem is invited to participate. The point is to enjoy the challenge of writing a poem inspired by a single word. It doesn’t matter if this is your first poem or five hundredth. It’s all done for the fun and exercise of writing.

Cutoff for posting the current Word of the Month poem is the last day of the month.

On the first day of each month, a new word will be posted to challenge your imagination for that month.

Please post your poems on this page, so everyone can find the poems easily. 

Thank you and have fun!

David

PS: The word for May is NOW.

26 comments on “Adult “W.O.M.” Poems

  1. Now’s the Time!

    I find that when I putz around
    and do not write down words,
    days slip by with lightning speed
    fly faster than the birds!

    So on this first day, I’ll compose
    now’s the perfect time!
    I’ll take a break from other chores
    and share my monthly rhyme!

  2. This reasly happened:

    This is why there was no poem yesterday
    And is, alas, absolutely true

    Now

    I slept all night,
    a day, again,
    another night
    and finally then
    sat up, said “WOW!
    It’s time to rise,
    and get the sleep
    out of my eyes.”
    I had no fever,
    Then or now,
    I was not nauseous.
    (Just a cow.)
    I had no fever,
    Covid, flu.
    I’m vaccinated through
    and through.
    Just plain exhausted.
    Written out.

    My dear hubby
    did not shout
    but smoothed the cover,
    whispered “See you
    on the other..
    side.”
    And now with eyes
    Full opened wide
    I arise.
    And write a poem
    (I hope with POW!”)
    And I am sending
    It out NOW.

  3. Just For Now

    Just for now
    I’ll close my eyes,
    Reclaim a moment,
    Then realize,
    So much to do,
    So little time,
    Taking time out,
    Almost a crime.
    So busy, busy,
    No time for me,
    Just rush around,
    No end I see.
    Lots of pleasure,
    But, also pain,
    Now I wish for,
    Some ‘me’ time again.

    Toni Newell 2nd May, 2021.

  4. PICNIC IN EARLY SPRING

    Tablecloth on wooden table
    Sandwiches unwrapped,
    Now
    Sunny skies turn gray,
    Storm clouds gather,
    Now
    Thunder rumbles,
    Nearer, nearer,
    Now
    CRACK! BOOM!
    Now
    Run for cover,
    NOW!

    Jane Heitman Healy c2021

  5. Every now and then, on nature walks, step quickens,
    unmindfully startling a-moment-in-the-making
    leaving one w i s t f u l

    THE SCENE NOT SEEN

    A rise of wings―rushes her ears,
    flustered flock s c a t t e r s
    leaving puddle-bath
    ripple-fresh
    empty.

    Crestfallen,
    she imagines . . .
    splishing and splashing, preening and puffing, scolding and cheeping . . .

    Now,
    s o f t
    l y
    s h e
    t r e a d s―
    e v
    e r
    l i g h t
    l y

    h u s h e d
    f e e t―
    l i k e
    f e a t h
    e r s

    Cory Corrado (21/05/04) ©

  6. Bittersweet
    By Linda Boyden ©2017, 2021

    This boy,
    this dear one
    you burped and diapered,
    is now almost a man.

    You sit back
    and sneak glances
    at the lanky teen
    smelling of sweat
    and farm soil
    as he drives your car.

    Drives my car?

    You can’t believe
    he’s gone
    from brrrumming
    Matchbox cars
    over the patterns
    in the living room rug,
    crashing, colliding
    with extraordinary sound effects
    only to collapse into laughter
    at his own wild fantasies.

    From there,
    From that sweet childhood,
    he has gone to driving you
    around the twists of streets,
    or the straight shot of the interstate.

    You study him, amazed at
    how he respects speed limits,
    how well he maneuvers
    in and out of lanes,
    stunned by how he’s weaving
    in and out of your life.

  7. Truly tugs at the heartstrings, Linda. Made me think of my once-little-ones, too. The wheel of life keeps on turning slowly yet quickly (paradoxically at the same time) right before our incredulous eyes. Love the images: ‘around the twists of streets’ and ‘weaving in and out of your life’.

  8. Standing on the sidelines, front row seat, as a dear friend feels powerless to reach out . . .

    FALL OUT

    twin houses
    detached
    side by side
    neighbors
    distant unspeaking
    lives separate
    two siblings
    estranged
    dad and mom many years gone
    sisters—sadly―
    still strangers

    Is it time

    N ow,
    O wn falling out―
    W illing hearts open

    and
    once again
    s t a n d
    side by side―
    as
    s i s t e r s ?

    Cory Corrado (2021) ©

  9. Feed me now the monster said.
    The monster inside my head.
    I replied I better wait, it’s not time.
    The monster laughed i don’t care.
    Get out of bed it’s time because if you don’t the pain I hold back, I promise I’ll share.
    I’ll wait I replied. The monster just said you’ll give in your too weak to let it ride.
    He was sadly correct, my legs ached my arms twitched my back hurt too much, I couldn’t stand erect.
    Alright, alright I said to the monster laughing inside my head. I’ll get a pill and feed you although it’s not quite time.
    He said you won’t be sorry.
    Sure enough the pill took effect. Everything settled down but in my mind I always worry.
    Am I an addict am I hooked. I just know I’m old and many things hurt without the relief the pills provide. So I guess I’m ok I’ll just let things ride.
    This story repeats about every four hours. Most times I make the monster wait. Even though he always wins I give in. That’s the part I hate.
    The suffering is real it’s not a joke. The monster is real he’s not one to poke. The media talks about addiction the docs write scripts I’m sure with conviction. It’s just so hard to not feed the monster his share he just laughs he doesn’t care. You’re the one who abused your body so long ago. Man up he’d say the sins of the past you’ll pay for today.

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