Love your poem, Robert!

laurie k.

Should I?

should I quell my desires
hot passion, burning
within like a volcano
about to erupt
on the brink
of deception
depreciation
rejection
haunting my
swirling mind
as I cross the
threshold
of what used to be

laurie k.

Should I Grow Old


I watch myself grow weaker everyday
my body decay...

My mind fragile
my body no longer
agile...

I know not how much longer
until the end
my body no longer can
fend...

I watch as I sink
deeper into old age
should I grow old
do no place me in
a cage...

SHOULD I GO OR
SHOULD I STAY

You say the word

Heal or kill me

I stand at the door
That separates
Life with you
And life without you

You say love forever
Or you say goodbye

#

MOTHERCRUTCH

You crutched me out,
always leaning—
your weight
too heavy
for me to support.
You broke me.

Even a crutch
needs a splint,
an ace bandage,
to hold the splinters
together,
but a whole body cast?

My barky skin
is itching
under
the white plaster,
half-alive
but mummified.

Break me out!
Cut it off!
Take the stick
of my life
and plant it
in the ground.

So that my roots
will go down
and my branches
go up
and flower
like Aaron’s rod:

finally something beautiful
in the desert.

Jane Beal
sanctuarypoet.net

Should you -

should you want to take this, this knife, to cut
me open to break us apart to take from me this
this, this, cord? - his heavy sigh sinks my heart.
Startles the back of my neck. my eyes burn in
their bone frames. I'm not sure which world I live in.

A little shrug might make the sale, you hope.
Should you push, keep pushing until w-wwords
fly out? Lover instead of partner, friend instead
of lover, acquaintance instead of friend, sinking more.
Shame is immediate. My mouth betrays me. Should I
say something to try, as a balm, to smooth it over?

Nothing. Open the package, the cord is cut, the
rough brown paper, no, the careful, no the – the
Someone in the other room coughs and suddenly
a crying child bursts into the world: concrete, here!
with lungs and a heart and a tiny mind. Not mine,
not his, but you should be someone else's to care for.

Should Forever Come, I’ll Remember Morning

I awake as light spills in
hear water splash the basin
and imagine your attention
to your face, lathering and shaving

I curl around my pillows
draw yours closer, listen
as your wing-tip shoes brush
the plush beige rug

Morning sleepy head, you say
and bend to give a kiss
as I rush a smile into your wide embrace
press my palm into your
yellow tie, downy touch.

Ready for your morning meeting
yet
you’re not moving toward the door...

Later
after you are gone
I know that should I have a million days
ten million nights, I will forever
feel that yellow silk

SHOULD I HAVE ANOTHER CUP OF COFFEE?

It’s Sunday. Why not indulge
in something, anything that is not
required?

We are breathless
from work, parenthood,
the rings of cell phones,
the little pings that announce email.

Why not ignore all other
shoulds in favor of an answer
to the question of indulgence?

Perhaps I should add a little rum
to that coffee, a little cream,
sit instead of exercise, allow
myself time with you.

You should have another cup
of coffee. With me. We should
take our places on the couch,
allow the steam from the hot
liquid in our cups to curl
around us.

We should gaze
at each other,
sink into our own heat.

Should We Go Home For Now


This morning’s light
crept softly through our window
from a soft grey sky.
Zahra woke and played quietly
in the room she shares
with Dora the Explorer,
most of the extra space
claimed by this pretend friend’s
castles and belongings,
pinks and pastels
washing the sharp edges
somewhat from her life.
She is singing now,
still thinking there will be
a new baby in the house.
The parents wait in hospital,
where they have been told
not to hope for happy outcomes,
but Zahra has been spared
such hard news for now.
Today the doctor comes
and they will form a plan,
and we will then decide
to stay here for a while
and be what help we can,
or head for home and wait,
do what must be done back there,
worry from a distance,
and when the end of time
arrives for all of this,
to bring our love back here.

Should Rain Begin to Fall

The canoe kept us
apart
each on our own
hard metal bench,
closer to each other
than we had been
in months.

We rode
finally
in the same direction,
paddling
first on one side,
then the other.

In the calming moments
when rocks were not
running up
to test us,
we found places
to lay our paddles down
and glide
in the quietness.

Both of us
checking
the sky for clouds.

Should I Forget

Should I forget what spring smells like,
I can look passed the morning dew
to a budding tree or beginning blooms.
The springtime smells like new.

Should I forget what summer smells like,
I’ll remember the summertime norm
of flip-flops, shorts and blazing sun.
The summer smells like warm.

Should I forget what autumn smells like,
I can look at the trees exchange
their leaves of green for yellow and red.
The autumn smells like change.

Should I forget what winter smells like,
I can watch as the season takes hold.
A pond turns to ice, the rain turns to snow.
The winter smells like cold.

Should I forget what loves smells like
an easy answer is due.
For everything you are to me,
the smell of love is you.

oh, Patricia, I am transported to that water...and to that emotional place...I enjoy your work, overall, and this might be my favorite

Should Tomorrow Come

Preparing to die,
there’s no remedy for death.
Peace always awaits.

Lovely poem, Patricia!

Thanks for your kind compliments! My mantra this school year is: calm waters. Think I've had enough rough rides for awhile. Your support is MUCH appreciated. I think I'm in a good place now. I am using water as my theme for this Chapbook Challenge.

Should I walk away?

The road that You have mapped for me
Has passed through much adversity
The path was steep, a rocky climb
With clouds above me all the time
I am not sure my faith survived
Or at the end I have arrived
I fear that You have asked too much
Not longer feel that I’m in touch
I fear this test might sever me
And lost and drifting I will be
Perhaps it’s time to walk away
Before I speak and You betray
But You are woven through my heart
I doubt if we can ever part
Instead I’ll grasp the outstretched hand
I’ll walk the path that You have planned
I’ll sing a song, a melody
That You are walking now with me

Should there be a Reason?

The plot demands it by tradition but
in life it is not always apparent.
In the paper yesterday there was a young boy
found stuffed into a waste pipe
his trousers missing and one shoe
left some distance away
the laces still tied.
I think about that shoe
as my murderer carves off the face
of his latest victim and
pulls out the teeth with a pipe-wrench.
Why was the boy killed?
the police and I wonder and the answer
comes in rusted steep and a pair
of dental grips in my hand:

Because he knew the killer.

~Should I Kiss You?~

Should I... Shall I... Would I... Will I...

Kiss you?

If your lips met mine, would it be sublime

If I kissed you?

Would I close my eyes, with a languid smile

When I kissed you?

Would I be in your heart, never to part

After I kissed you?

Should I... Shall I... Would I... Will I...?

*Kiss!*

---

Sorry for typo:do no place me in
a cage...

Line should read 'do not place me in a cage...'

Rachel, you are scary good...not that ther's anything wrong with that

‘Should’ should be banished from the language

Of all the words that blight the soul,
build prisons of our own making,
‘should’ offends the most.

That one word,
swung like a bludgeon,
forces us into patterns
someone else deems right.

We meekly lay down
our gifts, our dreams.
Abandon them to that voice in our heads,
a voice that whispers

like mother,
maybe teacher
or pastor or friend.

The voice does not come from above,
oh no. It comes
from the state of convenience.

You know ‘should’.
She often travels
with ‘ought’.

SHOULD...

A declarative
quite imperative!
A comparative
to "if only...".
(I should have thanked her!)

An interrogative
that can be derogative
when being negative
about the homely?
(Should I be seen with her?)

Its derivative
is a prescriptive
when being descriptive
of the lonely.
(I should stop by to visit her.)

W
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Patricia - "Should rain..." is beautiful!

Should I?

Should I question,
Or take it on faith?

Our sun,
By any other name,
Will give rise to light.

Children will,
Grow up,
In various stages of delight.

Cats will keep having kittens,
Cold winters will always need mittens.

Should I question,
Or take it on faith?

Seasons usher in a changing tide,
Turtles and crabs will always hide.

First time parents will always glow,
Theirs is a brand new feeling to know.

Should I question,
Or take it on faith?

If I sit and question why?
Do I risk looking God right in the eye?

As if to challenge a Higher Authority,
To say boldy, "Ok, show me!"

Show me why there can be,
Such a horrendous storm,
Wiping out people beyond the norm?

Show me the purpose,
Why for some children,
There is neglect and misuse.
Why must some feel lthe depth of abuse?

Show me the meaning,
Of harming a pet?
Should I take that on faith?
I can't yet.

How can one learn,
To deeply accept,
A universe with secrets,
Still tightly kept?

Maybe trusting,
In a faith we cannot see,
Is the opening,
To just let it be.

If there is action,
That can be done.
To lift off the circumstances,
Of even just one.

Then questioning why?
Might just be the answer.
And faith that there is,
A True Cosmic Dancer.

should fortune favor poetry

should my fingers spread
magnetic syllables on metal
cookie sheets and make
half-baked haiku for you
or wrap lines of random
generation around
the clinging crumbs and
punctuate them into code
<strong>"poems"</strong>
my digits sent to be read

“Should”

Should hear you, I thought I knew
The person I so love
Trusting and believing him.

Now doubt and fear, blowing through
Cloud my broken heart
Astonishment, suffocates

I feel snuffed out, crushed, a whim
Weigh closely, your source
You’re everything, all I want.

It’s my friends, I should not trust?
Whispering, move on,
Be smart, you must not look back.

I’m so torn inside,
Want to believe your story,
Alone, I must decide

To rule with my head
Instead of my heart, how do
Lovers manage that?

Needing guarantee
Can you look me in the eye?
We “Should” survive?

Should I not

wake tomorrow
beside you in our marriage bed

know this: you’re the rays passing
through thinned clouds, the rain

streaking down my windshield,
the fallen leaves I press in books.

You’re the pumpkin head perched
on my heart’s scarecrow, the green

flannel shirt I sleep in, my veins’
ruddy strum. You’re January

in my mind’s pinup calendar.
February through December, too.

Should I not wake tomorrow, know this:
my car barrels down all roads toward you.

the first line is supposed to be indented (dropped line) but it lost the formatting...

SHOULD YOU

find a single paw-print
as big as your palm, pressed
into damp soil – retracted
claws? – should you scan the trees
on either side the trail, quicken
your step – not run as a deer would –
clutch the tip of fear
in your fist like a weapon,
count your paces from this
place, as if the cougar
should be here?

Morning All, I have been writing but not posting so far. Doing Nanowrimo this month as well, but here is my offering for today.

Should Stars Fall from the Heavens

Should stars fall scattered in the night
Leaking from the gourd of the Big Dipper
Sweet fiery flowers singing with star song
Colouring the sky with their joy
Will they come to earth and
Live among us as angels and faeries
Perhaps some will choose immolation
Rather than sacrifice the freedom of the skies
Should stars fall from the heavens
Will it signify the beginning of the end
A harbinger of Winter Solstice 2012
As the fear mongers would have us believe
Should the stars fall from the Heavens
In a shower of silver and blue light
That sizzles with streaks of yellow, red and green
Will the beauty be too much to bear
And poets will go sorrowing into the wildness
Of our hearts searching for words to capture the glory
Should stars fall from the Heavens.

autumn in desert

If you should call
I'd tell you
the dog is limping
the fruit is fat
on the citrus trees
the grass is green
the palo verde trees
are shedding needles
winter hummingbirds
suck sugar water
from my feeder, and
I'm enjoying the pool
in the reverse summer
of Palm Springs, lying
on my back, crying stars,
pretending
I don't
miss you

Should He Happen to not Show Up

It's the beginning
of November —Indian
summer feels like the real
thing and she's on a train
that's pulling into
Union Station, Washington
DC and for a second
she wishes that he'll not
be there, in his truck,
waiting for her. She wants
to ride the Metro
like she used to do
when she was in
college.

Her aunt
showed her how
to read the rail
maps. The Red Line
went all the way to where
her uncle and aunt stayed.
From campus, she'd walk
to Shaw, Green-Line-it
to Gallery Place, switch to the
Red Line and ride, listening
out for "Fort Totten,"
the stop before the stop
to get off.

And should he happen
to not show up to meet her
at the train station because
he's running late, she'll call
to say she's okay, that it's warm
out and she knows her way
from here.

Another great prompt! This one made me dig deep
Debra, I like Should I Grow Old!

Should I Go In

I’ve seen no one who looks like me enter the class. Mostly young women. Tight black pants. Personal rolled up mats. Clear faces. One man. Athletic fit white T-shirt with the OM symbol on the front. Crocs. 5 people. Then 7 more. I can’t even pick out who might be the instructor. Pacing, I move between the water fountain and the door to read the group exercise schedule. Memorized. Lunch Time Yoga. Hate to use the word ironic. So overused. Does it fit here to cover my guilt that I don’t want to be the fat one in yoga class? I would be the one dreaming of milkshakes and cheeseburgers while everyone else is probably comfortable lying on the floor thinking about wheat grass and tempeh. Did I really imagine that doing yoga videos at home would prepare me for this? For moving my body in a room full of taut flesh.

Should She Give Up?
By: Meena Rose

She sat down one day,
Contemplating;
Whether she should return her lease on life,
Whether she should just give up.

She was tired;
She was spent.

She felt the baby move;
Her child;
The product of a rape.

The morning-after pill did not work;
Abortion she would have none of;
Despite her foster mother’s insistence.

Her answer then had been
No!
For she herself was
The product of a rape.

As she got busy growing the baby;
Life got hard all of its own.
Homework piled up;
Friends shunned her;
People condemned her;
Yet another pregnant teen.

She was weary;
She was leery.

Back to this moment;
Back to this here and now;
She wondered again
Should she just give up.

As her thoughts grew dark;
Baby started kicking again;
Urging her not to give up.

“Please, Mama, you
Carried me so far.
Please let me live.

Don’t give up, Mama!”
Baby reached out
telepathically.

That seemed to do it;
She decided to live
Another day.

These daily prompts are such a wonderful way to to bring the brain to paper. I am truly out of my league, surrounded as I am by so many wonderful poets. Thank you all for letting me share your space. I can only grow from the experience.

Thank you Jessie Carty..
I liked your take on going to the gym...

Should You Forget

to drink the wine, I will remind you.
Its warm taste curls around my tongue
and I imagine cats
lounging before a crackling fire
or old books, spines stiff,
waiting to be opened once again
while you, dressed in wizards’ robes,
bring the glass slowly to your lips,
stir the banked fires of our love.

DAY 8--Should ...

There have been many shoulds.

Looking back

Find myself wondering if I

Woulda

Coulda

Shoulda

Decided to make a change

A long time ago.

Patricia

"Should have listened more"

You spoke
My ears recognized the sound
My mind folded away into itself
"I love you.....
....be here.....
....fix this....."
I knew what you were going to say
why waste energy processing the words
over again
"...the last chance...
...responsibilities....
...should....."
Words are just letters
jumbled into combinations
hurtful
hopeful
handy
jagged little remarks
"....someone else.....
.....take care of.....
....packing....
...Tuesday..."
Mind-repelling words slip off my consciousness
I sneak further into my inner realms

Words are poignantly plotted by lips
gently curved
in anger
Her heady scent envelops me
its heat sinks into my mind
"....its over....
....you don't care...
.....why?....."
Again, the words
mazes of letters
a siege on my brain.
Fingers grope for the remote
the escape switch
".....fine.....
.....do what you want...."
.....................................

Only gaping, pulsing silence remains
Empty strewn rooms
A tar and feathered awakening
My mind aching at such
an uninvited return to reality
What's going on?
Why?
What? What's that?
From murky depths drifts upward the magic 8 ball wisdom
"You should have listened"

Day 8 – Should

You know I’m of a mind
That this word ‘should’
ought to be stricken
from the English language
It’s a big word
Conjuring up school teachers
In too tight hair and glasses
Wagging a finger

Like you shouldn’t smoke
or you shouldn’t take chances
Or maybe you shouldn’t fall in love
with that guy or girl
Or maybe shouldn’t we get married?

When I think of all the times
that word has come up
and it’s usually not in a good way
I feel like we need a replacement

What if we replaced the word with
something else
Like I don’t know,
What would be a good word?

Can’t, couldn’t, mustn’t
Maybe not or will not
Or…..

So then it would be
I can’t smoke
Or I won’t take chances
I couldn’t fall in love
And we won’t get married

But then again
Who listens to me?

Like I said, should’s a big word

SHOULD I SHOULD OR SHOULD I SHOULDN’T

I’m at a loss to know.
Should I stay, or should I go.

Should I say what’s on my mind
Or bide my tongue and my time?

Should I leap forward, or go back?
Turn tail and run, or attack?

All this indecision makes my head spin.
Maybe someday I’ll decide which mode I’m in.

I SHOULD HAVE KNOW BETTER

I wish I didn't know now,
what I didn't know then,
I'd be a happier lout.

I'd have the naive innocence,
and such youthful exuberance
to figure life all out.

I'm locked into decisions
that preclude what I'd want
to make me one happy dude.

I've had my job for twenty years
and though it pays the bills,
it doesn't give me joy as it is viewed.

I'm driving a family minivan
instead of a sporty roadster,
I'll keep the family, just improve my ride.

I've won at lost at love enough
to know my way around it
without the jumbled feelings inside.

My first marriage would have been
right for the right reasons,
and not the struggle lasting 20 seasons.

If I knew then what I know now
I wouldn't want to go there,
and I'm sure I'll have a few good reasons.

But here I'm stuck,
and here I'll stay
although I should have known.

I'll deal with the life I have
and not the one long ago,
and forget about the chances I have blown.

"Should Time Desire"

She would pause
when you smile
and the minutes tick
in place
as she caresses your face
with breezes until
she is tired and moves
on to the night.

You Wonder About Things You Really Should Know

Is happiness a regulation
To be part of the congregation?
She asked
My dear, you are not in church

You’ve been crying
Are you hurt?
That is a matter of perception
I suppose
I wasn’t aware that my old wound stills shows
Itself

Oh, darlin’ walk a while with me
You’ve got so much you want to talk about


I live for my dream
She said
and a pocket full of gold
He laughed

My dream of Love, peace, and happiness
Happiness, he replied
That destination is under investigation
Happiness is not over the hills
And far away
It is everywhere you choose
You wonder about things you really should know


Let the sun beat down upon my face
And stars fill my dream
She said
All will be revealed?
Well, can I take you to a show?

The world is spinning faster
It most certainly is
Does it hurt to hear them lying, was this the only world you had?


I thought I was a spiritual person
Speaking my truth
You are not in church, my dear
I should be over tears this far along
Dead people don’t cry, Darlin'
You wonder about things
You really should know

This from the pov of my main character after she visited Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado.


Should I Consider this a Romance?

Should I consider this a romance
with the first kiss a cosmic fluke
and the second the kind he’d plant
on his sister or grandmother?

When he held my hand was
it because he liked me or because
he was afraid I’d fall on my fanny
while crossing the rocky stream?

When he smiled and said, “What
beautiful scenery!” did that remark
include me, like I imagined, or can
I not compete with cactus and sand?

Is this a romance? I’m trying to
examine the signs like trails in
the desert. Am I guessing a kangaroo
when it’s really a kangaroo rat?

I have no rights to him. But he has
claimed my heart as surely as that
ground squirrel snatched the crumb
that fell from my bologna sandwich.

Should I get in?

If you stopped
And I got in
Could we travel?
Never to look
Back again?
To leave this
Life, which we
Have now been
Stuck in?
Could you close
This chapter?
To begin another?
Leave and not
Ever look back?
Never say it
Was I who
Took you away!
From the familiar
Comfort zone
We built together!
Would you love
Me, as I do you?
Could you see
Where the life
Is now, never
To be true.
If you stopped
Should I get in?

“Shoulds”

Why “shoulds” create many stressors,
Dichotomous thinking, black or white

Faulty thoughts, expectations pressure
Try pursuing your lifetime dream

Enjoy the search for inner peace
Skim off the fatty cream, light

Milk minus its caloric weight
Praise days end restful slumber

“Shoulds” should be few in number
They’re truly controlling your gait

Ninacarole
11/08/09

I thought I had done this, but apparently something didn't take

should love
___drop from up above
(like apples) unexpected
and unaskedfor (as a puppy)
open up your heart
(like flowers), open
without will but its season
love will come or not
no matter love’s like money
(unanticipated) open up
and grasp it (freely)
should love
drop.

Compensation

Should have, would have, could have
if only . . ..
Excuses proliferate, guilt is a mountain.
Expectations real or imagined,
always leave me feeling
I've come up short.

Trying to please family, friends
colleague and strangers;
banner days when I please only myself.

But I’m learning.

Should I Buy the Extended Warranty?

Should I buy the extended warranty
or will my purchase break
the minute that the time runs out?
Is nixing a mistake?

The salesman told me that he thought
that I should pay for it
because you never know when your
appliance just might quit.

I don’t know if it’s worth my dough –
the cost seems rather high.
So...I said I’d take a chance
and hope this thing won’t up and die.

Should I Taste This Fugu?

Should I taste this fugu?
I know it’s not risk-free.
Should I try some puffer fish?
Is it safe for me?

Or would this famous delicacy
bring on my demise?
Oh, the heck with tetradotoxin –
I’d like mine with some fries.

CAN'T BUY ME LOVE
(So Should I Rent Me Some?)

Love comes at a cost,
there's a price that we pay
for the affection we crave,
and the words that we say.
Priceless as it seems,
love isn't always a prize.
Look in the eyes with a broken heart,
you'll see the anguish that love imparts,
It isn't a product to buy or sell,
it is given away as far as I can tell.
If payment were taken, it wouldn't be cash,
heartfelt concern, caring, compassion,
friendship incarnate and unconditional,
is the compensation given, most traditional.
Love can be spoken in words most revealing
but hearts can be broken sometimes concealing
the real value, love's precious worth,
the most undervalued commodity on earth.

Robert, funny you should mention "theme" I'm writing a novel and was about to drop out, but then I thought "hey, I can do poems in the theme and then it will be fun." So here's a new set.


Anew
The break was sharp
But not surprising
I woke with the pain
Years ago
A sucker punch
To the gut
A billboard in
My brain
Don’t do it!
My heart knew
My gut knew
But I closed my
Eyes and my mind
Now here I am
Starting anew
Alone



Something
She reminds me
Of the Beatles’ song
Something
In the way
She moves
The fabric of
Her suit
Tight in the
Right places
Her lips full
And tinted to
Match her
Outfit
Her smile warm
Her spirit strong
I want to possess
Her
But she defies
Possession


Maybe There Is
Maybe there is
Love and
Passion
The kind I
Dream about
Maybe he will
Be that knight
I secretly desire
His amber eyes
His pirate smile
Sending jolts
Of energy
Dancing through
Me
Or maybe its
Illusion
And lust
Hormone driven
Insanity
Of
Maybe not


Growing Attraction
His scent
Starch and cotton
When my face
Is pressed into his
Chest
Solid, safe
His warmth
Warms me
The glow in
His eyes tells me
The strength
Of this attraction
But not if he
Will stay


Blanket Bingo
My sister says
Have fun
Who cares?
She was always
One to be
Free
Maybe it’s my
Time to play
To tangle in
The blankets
Just because
It feels
Fantastic

Should I go?

Should I leave the bread
on the kitchen counter
before I go?
The Latvian rye bread,
sweet and sour
with caraway seeds,
the bread you love the best.
My father used to bake it
when I was a child.
Perhaps some fresh
unsalted butter to spread
on a slice or two.
And some wine,
the very best I have,
richly red, to remind you
of my kisses.
Should I leave at all?

Should I?

Should I buy this antique lamp
Even though it doesn’t work?
Should I buy that caned chair
With the seat torn on the side?
Or the green brocade drapes
With only the tie backs missing?
Or the book of Keats’ poems
Yellowed and brittle with age?

These are dilemmas I face
When I go to estate sales,
Tempted by vintage bargains
Yet knowing they are marred
With defects often beyond repair.
Sometimes I fall prey to desire
And add items to the collection
Of worthless items in my attic.
Usually reason wins out and I’m
Saved from being foolish.

November Poetry Challenge Day 8, “Should…..”

Shoulda, woulda, coulda

She sat in the lawn chair, late afternoon sun
Backlighting wisps of her hair, and behind her,
On the other side of the road where we parked,
Tail-gating before the football game we would soon
Attend with more than ninety thousand others,
I could see little fruit bats zig-zagging out for the night
From the “bat house,” their man-made home
Along Lake Alice at the University of Florida.
I thought: we should have done this more often,
We should have taken the day, driven up here
Or wherever a day could take us, and spent time
Together doing things that no one in particular
Liked best but all of us could enjoy together,
When for a few hours nothing would pull us away
From each other, nothing could be more important
Than sitting together, grilling a few burgers,
Splitting a bottle of good red wine, even
Allowing her at seventeen one chilly beer,
And giving us all a few quiet moments
That would stockpile a memory.

Lyn Sedwick

Should I care that Johnny’s self-destructive
as a grenade that removes its own pin?
When Tunny gets careless and has to live
with the fallout of his mistake, the sin’s
not just his, and it’s a pity. And give

Will a break for following his vision.
Bummer about the shrapnel wound, Purple
Heart consolation for being a pawn.
But for Johnny, my sympathies are dulled
by a North American perspective:

the individual with no scruples,
resistance or luck is an idiot.
I forget that U.S. culture makes fools
and soldiers of us all. TV effect
makes one shoot rifles; one shoot heroin;

one shoot his wad--and himself in the foot.
It’s not so bad, the way Johnny came out.


DA

SHOULD A MAN

cut down the forest for its wood
and delve the earth for coal and ore,
all to stoke the forge to form more iron into axes,
shovels, drills and saws
to cut more forest, dig more coal?

Or should he, like that Scottish duke,
plant his barren hillsides with larch and fir?
See how his Highland home
is a cathedral of clustered columns
roofed by vaulted boughs.

[based on Elihu Burritt’s A Walk from London to John O’Groats, 1864]

I chose a Fib today.


"Should I give up?"

It
won
today
yet again
Procrastination
five thousand thirteen to eighteen.

Marcia McLees Bogaert

Should I Hibernate This Year
(The Bear, The Ground Squirrel and The Hedgehog)

Should I sing myself to sleep
each night so I no longer weep,
over dreams of warm sunshine
and red ripe berries to eat and keep.

Should I dance the acorn picking jig
collecting so many nuts, I’m really not a pig,
just storing up for long winter nights
when my belly doesn’t feel so big.

Should I write you a little ode
about the sweet garden down the road,
so many slugs and snails to eat
I could curl up in a ball and explode.

Sweet dreams gentle friends,
I will see you again when winter ends.

Should I remember

Should I remember
anything of this day,
it will be the bald eagle
on bare branch
framed against
the Sunday afternoon sky

He watched me
watching him,
nearly motionless,
incongruous
in his largeness

Stayed during
my afternoon nap
(perhaps he had one too),
screeched as I roused,
just before he flew

I searched each limb
from every pane
of my own aerie

Left with only
this poem
as proof

Should Have Bottled it

The woman in the beginning
of the Holmes family tree
are all hard in the face and soft
in the hair -- Alberta, Luebertha,
Ruby-Lee -- all of them
could have easily passed
for men if it hadn't been
for their hair— river-long and flowing
over shoulders, spilling
into middle of backs. Evil women,
prettier in the face, tried to
take scissors to their hair
'cause they knew
that hair was magic
no matter how much man
was in their faces. No matter how wide
their feet or heavy their hands,
that hair howled
"woman!"
The women closer to me
on the family tree say
they should have bottled whatever it was
they washed their hair in
'cause that had to have been
no ordinary shampoo— had to be
part holy-water, part tar,
part voodoo.

“Should I Write This Poem About Kierkegaard…”

or continue petting Alice the cat
on this lazy afternoon
in November?

My tomorrow seems
so far away
and I cannot move
from my spot on the carpet.

Alice keeps lolling
all 20 pounds of her gray fur
and undulating
like some horizontal
purring
belly dancer.

It’s so quiet in here
when I look into her
squinting green eyes
I can hear her:

“Keep scratching me.”

Soon
my daughter lets in the dogs
and Alice scrambles to her refuge
under the bed.

Our moment is
gone.

Now, I’ll go
write that poem.

Should…. ? © Rich Atwater Nov 8,2009

Should you do it, or not?
Should you try to become?
Should you even get up today?
Should you just act dumb?

Should you ever think it possible?
Should you ever even try?
Should you go ahead, or just turn back?
Should you ever cry?

Should you possibly laugh?
Should you shout it out?
Should you never talk back?
Should you maybe pout?

Should you make a decision?
Should you go back to bed?
Should you jump in the air?
Should you stand on your head?

Should you walk another mile?
Should you just sit down?
Should you wish on a star?
Should you go downtown?

Should you now get married?
Should you fall in love?
Should you go to war?
Should you be a peaceful dove?

Should you have eight kids?
Should you try to dance?
Should you move away?
Should you take a stance?

Should you help a brother?
Should you be so kind?
Should you believe the truth?
Should you expand your mind?

Should you …….....fill in the blank?
Should you, or should you not?
YOU should live a life?
Shouldn’t you? Why not?

Haïr

Should I...
silken?
Soften?
Hot oil
often?

Should I...
highlight
lowlights
or give
last rites?

Should I...
cream rinse?
Shampoo?
Leave in?
Sluice through?

Should I...
curl, twist,
cut, blow,
perm, wave,
frost, glow?

Should I...
go blonde?
Brown? Red?
I've got
bed head!

My hair's so
frizzed and flat!
Think I’ll just
wear a hat.

Should I really allow this one out on its own?

Should you ever be awake at the dead of night
as the bats flitter 'neath the pale moonlight
and should you decide to take a walk
please take care for around you evil stalks.

Curses have abounded to populate the dark
with walking corpses in which life once sparked
dressed in tattered clothing old and stained
zombie bodies with evil empty brains.

Vampires congregate in groups of more than thirty
distaining zombies and getting shirty
perfumed, coiffed and dressed in haute couture
while zombies smell like heaps of old manure.

Then there are the ghosts and witches and lycanthropes
freaks mutated by nasty isotopes
please take note they're everywhere you look
perfect subjects for your newest YA book.

Don't waste a moment in getting it written down
while out wandering round your midnight town
There's remorseless hunger to assuage
so get it slapped down quickly on the page.

Your work may be panned by the cruel and uncouth
but you'll have the satisfaction of having writ the truth.


Oh I can't apologise enough for this one. It really really stinks.

One more and I'll be caught up. Whew.

Should Have Brought a Digital

No need to ration pictures anymore;
film is now a fetish. Not even hipsters
check to see how good the light is, care
about the composition. Photos plastered
now on Facebook, Twitter, soon as they are
taken--blurred, arms out of frame, heads cut thru--
there's no cost for a bad photo anymore,
no reward for a good one. That's not true.
There's no fear anymore, no worry that
this moment will not justify the one
that might be missed because you ran out
of film. Take them all. Snap like a madman.
Be itchy on the trigger. Bring some spare
memory. Charge the battery. Dare.

The Shoulds

Should I rake leaves or
take my dog for a walk?
Should I organize the kitchen
or write a poem?
Should I grocery shop
or read a book?
The choice between what I
should do and what I want
to do is often difficult.
And whatever choice I make
feels half good and half bad.
I wish there were more
hours in the day, especially
to take my dog for a walk.

Should I miss this moment

plug ears with deafening music,
form lips in tired complaint,
let eyes see only nuisance
in this November chore,
raking endless leaves
while the wind swirls
beyond my grasp?

Or should I lean in,
let the rake do my talking,
listen as unused muscle
strains with life?
Powerful strokes chant strength
I didn’t know I had.

Breeze shimmers the grass.
Lengthening light softens gaze,
spotlights my hand on the rake,
the rake on the leaves,
the leaves on the ground,
the ground below my feet.

Birds chatter. Leaves scatter.
The towering cottonwood
shakes maracas of autumn.
I can, I can, sings the rake,
rustle loose the long-neglected,
unveil the fertile soil.
I rake and rake.

The Shoulds

Should I rake leaves or
take my dog for a walk?
Should I organize the kitchen
or write a poem?
Should I grocery shop
or read a book?
The choice between what I
should do and what I want
to do is often difficult.
And whatever choice I make
feels half good and half bad.
I wish there were more
hours in the day, especially
to take my dog for a walk.

The Journey: Day Eight: Should (blank)


Should Trouble Be Borrowed

or asked for, stay out—
don’t look, but keep an eye on.

Should trouble follow,
give enough for two
or none is needed.

Should trouble be bought
or invited, double toil today,
and let tomorrow fend for itself.

Should dance

He offered his hand
naked of intention
unmarked by afterthought
lines of clear conscious
with only one desire
to take hold
for a moment
moving grace along
a song playing softly
whispering chords of
forgiveness for time
not of yesteryear
but years to go
knowing life passes
quicker than one
dance.

Should I Say Something If …

Food is stuck between your teeth?
Hair is sticking out your ear?
Toilet tissue peaks beneath
Your stiletto heal, my dear?
You’ve had one too many drinks?
I just don’t remember you?
That new haircut really stinks?
You could use a mint or two?

If the roles were in reverse,
I’d want you to clue me in.
Per my silly little verse,
Let the honesty begin!

Or not.

Should tomorrow never come

Tomorrow holds no promise
nor written guarantee
embrace each precious moment
set your spirit free

Count your Blessings daily
be thankful you're alive
give of yourself completely
spread those wings 'n fly

Leave behind warm heart prints
by what you say and do
hug a child, a grown-up
'fore the day is through

Hang onto Faith with passion
let nothing change your mind
trust yourself with confidence
when troubles bring you down

Stop 'n smell the roses
hear of Nature's song
help the weak, downhearted
remember to stay strong

Pave a road of friendship
be not ashamed to cry
share a smile, bring laughter
in darkness, be the light

Always use good judgment
but, never be the judge
try to find forgiveness
as worthless is a grudge

Should tomorrow start without you
will there be regrets?
or do you know for certain
you've always done your best?

Respect your kin 'n elders
and keep an open mind
listen, have compassion
remember to be kind

Tell someone you love them
'fore time slips away
tomorrow waits for no one
the time is now, today

Know that hearts are fragile
when your words just skip along
be considerate and gentle
speak with careful tongue

When your chair is empty
and you're no longer here
will you leave sweet mem'ries
to those who held you dear?

These are the things I'd whisper
'n plant inside your head
all because 'I love you'
and care about you friend


November 8th, 2009

(prompt- fill in the blank and use as title..."Should _________"


(c) Rose Marie Streeter

Should

Candlelight was my first vanity. The velocity
slow enough to hide stains on the tablecloth.
But you saw, all those flaws, God I loved you
for not pointing out the obvious, appreciating
the gesture in the spirit it was made. Should
you find another woman who valued you more
I would not be surprised, I would be awed.

Could it stop
Just for a day?
Let the girl
Laugh a little,
Feel the sun
On her face,
Dance.
Couldn’t the world
Give here a break
All the while
Spinning its routine,
But just without the hurt.
She should be able
To close her eyes,
Feel the gentle breeze,
Smile.
Just one day of
Quiet
Should do the girl
Good.

Should Me, Should Me Not

I
should
I guess
probably
but then maybe not
why do I always have trouble
making up my mind
I don’t know
tell me
should
I?

SHOULD YOU TURN BACK
(Eurydice)

then we are both lost, my love

for you dragged me out of the pits of hell and
they are cold places indeed where the only fires
live under the bowl of a bent spoon
china white expiring into a breathless meaningless vapor
and jesus it is a wonderful feeling, my love
plunging the river styx into my arm
asphodel choking through the passages of my mind

the king and queen of the narcotic dead
theyre a tricky pair and they know how to keep
their serfs in line
youve come to save me, my love

throw away that tarnished silverware and
stretch all my tourniquets till they snap
let me follow your voice because its the only thing
thats real amidst the shadows of the dumpsters
the ringing in my ears the rattling in my skull
i poisoned myself and pulled you down with me, my love
but if you have the fortitude to climb back to the light
then i will find it through you

but should you turn back to breathe that soporific fog
again then we will be bloodspattered and beautiful
comatose bathroom stall lovers who dont even
know each others names
seizing and clawing for human contact in the dark

christ im holding my breath, my love
one foot in front of the other im following and following
and theres no more way to lose

Great work, all. These especially stood out to me:
Jane Penland Hoover (from title to end)
J. Hugh McDonald (I’ve been following your story with heavy heart. “…washing the sharp edges somewhat from her life.” This line says so much.
Patricia, as always, but I agree this is possibly one of your best.

Susan Schoeffield (becoming a “must read” for me)
Melanie Kerr (beautiful statement of faith)
Rachel Green (oh my!)
Patricia Wellingham-Jones (bravo!)
Willy (so clever!)
Marie-Elizabeth Mali (one of my favorites)
Ruth Nolan (well done)
Meena Rose (excellent, my friend)
Daniel Ari (always good for shooting from the hip)
Michelle H. (so endearing!)
Michelle McKewen (So unique and imaginative)
RJ Clarken (you know I love your humor!)
Walt (most precious commodity on earth,indeed.)
Theresa (nice!)

Should I complain about these codes,
Or wait until my head explodes?
Six, seven, nine, ten …
Cross my fingers; try again. ;)

should the wind,
were it to blow,
hard and fast,
carry away
all you fear.

should the rain,
be called out
of a clear
blue sky
to wash
it all
away.

should the stars
align and be
read like a
dime store
novel just
to spare
you pain.

for you know,
the wind can
blow in too.

.
Should not

we use this cursed word
this declaration of judgment
to batter those we love

and hate

into sharing the crap
we have dragged
from our own childhoods.
.

Never Speak of Should

There are no `shoulds’
is what he said,
in group, years ago,
if you should have
then you would have.

He tried to teach
the art of moving forward
with your life, not to allow
regrets to fill your mind
hour after hour, day after
day, because it was a waste
of time and energy and after
all, you could not undo the past.

Choices: Day 8: Should I?


Should I

have eaten the Hershey’s miniature lying on the side table—
milk chocolate temptation, never mine, fully
aware of whose it was?

After Sunday church, in our meet and greet, she offers
a plastic sack of assorted candies, a
bite of sweetness, adds to the love shared
via hugs and smiles and tender words.

Last Wednesday, at church early to set up
evening music, I move the table, see the tiny
rectangle, brown wrapped, silver lettered.

A breath later, the chocolate, uncovered, bare,
melts in my mouth. Week after week,
I worship next to the man I spent all my
adulthood with. He now lives with another,
shares her table, her bed.

Alone in the sanctuary, I
savor stolen sweet, swallow bitter,
and wonder.

SHOULD

Should the test come back positive,
I'd like to think I'd be brave.
No weeping, no gnashing of teeth.

I'd like to be one of those feisty heroines
who'd toss her hair and
shout challenges into the dark,
fighting to the last.

That is how
the story should end.

Should I fall?

I clung tightly to the branch, my grip weakening by the day.
Once a strong, silent green
now a vibrant, crisp orange
quickly fading.


With each wisp of the breeze my resolve weakens.
To hang on meant
to live even if only
living dead.

Yet a voice in the wind kept whispering that there was more.
To let go, to die to myself
would mean life
more abundantly.

My remains would nourish generations to come.
A life not wasted
but invested in others
eternally.

A brilliant freedom pulsed within me as I soared through the air. Isn't this what leaves were made for?

Should I stay upon this planet
Or should I leave it all behind
To seek the light and pains relief
Or rise once more to meet the day

I do not know the answer
Could I tell you if I did
Some questions are just like that
And this one only you can say

I see you in your coma
Mind asleep, and spirit full awake
Don’t ask me how I hear you
Just know I can and do

I know the pain you’ve been through
I know the beauty of that light
I think that I would go there
But I’m glad it’s not my choice

Some things are best for later
Savored wine at ending of the day
Is their daylight in your window
Or does moonlight fill the sky

Should you stay upon this planet
Or should you leave it all behind
Choose you now the answer
And be at peace my friend

Should We Happen to Meet Upon a Winter’s Eve

Should we happen to meet upon a Winter’s eve,
remember I am a changed old man.
Where once bitterness was worn on my sleeve,
now sits kindness along its span.

Should we happen to meet on some darkened street,
remember I am a changed soft soul.
Yuletide spirits now are now welcome and sweet
my heart restored and whole.

Should we happen to meet when moon is full and huge,
remember I am a changed old grim.
You need not fear from old Ebenezer Scrooge,
just ask my friend Tiny Tim.

If I should live
(Rupert Brooke's soldier comes home from the war)

If I should live, what will you think of me
if there’s no corner of a foreign field
that is for ever England? Will there be
a place for one to whom has been revealed
the pity and the horror of a war
where children bleed their lives into the dust
and women weep? Or will you just ignore
a man who can’t pretend that war is just?

Romantic heroes dead and in their grave
are very fine – less grand the amputee,
the man who ducks when any car backfires,
the man with nightmares even in the day,
the battle scars no one can ever see
in minds forever hung up on barbed wire.

Jenny Doughty

Thank you, Marie Elena. I appreciate your encouragement!!

Should Cats Be Changed


Should cats be changed
into women, they would be lovely,
their tails curled close, their eyes opaque.

They would lounge in sunlight,
breathing softly, coats glowing golden,
gray and amber, snowy, black as coal.

In the night they would leap, landing softly
on sleeping men. They would nestle close,
their purrs insinuating into dreams.

SHOULD

Should should should
I would if I could
But I can’t

Did you know that should
Is six-eighths of the word shoulder
Shoulds are more often than not
Things we do when otherwise
We have no choice
If nobody did their shoulds
Then phone calls might never end
Dinner might never get made
Babysitters wouldn’t get to go home
Work might never get finished
Your mother might never hear from you
Thank you cards never written
Christmas shopping done
And yet
Some good shoulds might be
Celebrating with champagne
Getting together now, rather than later
Being nice to myself
And posting this now.

Should have loved you sooner

Should the sun grow cold
And the stars grow old
And the moon so boldly fall
Should the human race
Lose the human race
And turn its face from it all
Should the season’s end
Be upon us then
My love will wend its way
Through the frozen sky
And the empty night
To you and there I’ll stay.

Should the day be still
Then I’ll drink my fill
Of the moon distilled in wine;
Should the night be long
Then I’ll sing your song
And your strong arms will entwine
Round about my waist
Then my tongue will taste
Of your love that waits for me;
I will find my way
To your heart that day
To you and there I’ll stay.

Should the sun grow cold
And the stars grow old
Then I’ll boldly call your name;
Will you come to me
Be the sun to me
For I’ll hunger for you then?
And the sun will die
And the stars and I
If you lie so far from me
But I’ll find my way
To your heart some day
To you and there I’ll stay.

Should She

She regrets so much
in her short life
all the things she should have done.

She’s learning now
life doesn’t conform
she has detours to throw her off course.

She learns and corrects
gets back on track
just makes the best of her journey.

Should I delete?

Should I delete another poem?
I’ve written of my love.
The love that burns within my soul
and can’t be shown or known

I wish I could delete the love
that fuels all these words
that jumble up my life and keeps
me wanting and confused

But my heart has no delete button
and would I push it if I could
I doubt it as I know the feelings
Would still linger and fuel a poem

To Marie Elena

Your humor is marvelous.
Your praise is first rate!
You show through example,
One shouldn't have too many words
On their plate.

Should I head to bed?

Should I head to bed.
No! Instead,

Let's see what everyone had to say,
Play catch up with their 8th day!

There were Animals/Aging
Taylor G., Michelle H., Katherine H., Susan P./ Debra E.
Onto Birth, we saw Amanda B.

With Caring and Compassion, Daniel A. was there,
On the topic of Courage, we saw Debbie Ohi and Melanie Kerr.
Brittany focused on Conversations,
Whereas RJ Clarkson did a simple Choice.
On Couples, it was Patricia H. and Kathleen C.M. giving their voice.

Decisions was a hot one.
With Salvatore, Meena R., Sally J., Ellenelizabeth, Teresa C. and Mary K.
Will had some Doubt,
There were some Desires Laura had to say.
Depth was covered by Joseph Barker, and Death by Rachel Green,
They had alot to say . . . see what I mean?

Earth was covered nicely by Taylor Graham,
Then we heard about Food from Elizabeth Krikman.
Family Life and Freedom were topics for Walt W. amd Sondie Williams too.
They brought us right to it, like a good poet will do.

Giving went to Patricia Frolander, Kumarian S. and Patti W.
That must be what they all do.

Hindsight to what's right was in Lyn Sedwick and Walt W's domain.
Their insight for us all is a true felt gain.

A focus on Health and Humor went to RJ Clarkson and Jesse C.
Whereas Higher Understanding went to Patty Sherry.
A heart felt poem went to Rose Marie Streeter.
Melissa McEwen, RJ Clarkson wrote about Hair,
And it couldn't have been sweeter!

Innocence was echoed in J. Hugh McDonald's piece.
Independence was written about by Melissa Missy McEwen with ease.
Buddha wrote about being In the Moment.
Whereas Insight into others was written by Sara V.

A Kiss was described by LM T. Richardson,
Learning by Judy R.
A Lovers poem by Jane Penland Hoover was a mover,
And Life Processes by Daniel P.
Love was expounded on by Susan S., Barbara Y. (Y not), Marie Elizabeth Mali and Sheila D.
As well as Walt W. and Maril Crabtree.

Moving along was mentioned by Sara M and Angela with appeal.
Whereas Mothers as a topic was covered by Jane Beal.
Night fright was done by Banana the Poet,
And boy, did she show it!

Picture This was done by Brian Spears,
Tim Snodgrass wrote of Peace.
Easing many fears.
That piece.
Questioning was done by LM T. Richardson and Jeanne.
Relationship and Romance was covered nicely by Carole K., Ruth N. and Maureen B.

Shoulda's had the most by far.
Patricia McGoldrick, Patricia WJ, Renee G., Carole K, Jane E. Richard M. A. and Susan B.
Seasons heard from Susan S., Marie Elizabeth Mali and Amanda Fall.
Who wrote of falling leaves and all.
Stars came out for Nancy Bell and Shopping for Barbara Mayer.
JA Jensen was the spirit sayer.

Time was echoed nicely by Guilicetta S.
Marie Elena . . . always tells it like it is.
Chev Shire was uplifting,
All poets were as usual verbally gifting.

Waiting was mentioned by J. Hugh McDonald, Marcia McLees Bogaert and Ruth Nolan.
War was described by Jenny D.
Words were echoed by Barbara Y.
With a frustration that has made us all cry!

And finally there was Yoga with Jesse C.
The comment about a cheesburger and milkshake were very funny!

If I left anyone out,
Please take no offense!
It is time for bed no doubt,
Because soon . . . I won't make any sense.

I should have read all your work,
The entire first challenging week.
Maybe I can just on Sundays,
When there is enough energy to speak.

Should I be getting older?

Every year I play the same silly little game
I check myself for changes but find I'm still the same;
My chubby cheeks still round and plump,
my tummy large my giant rump.

Photographs agree with the looking glass.
I just don't change though time may pass.
People ask me where my portrait's tucked away
but I have to put them straight on that - I'm no Dorian Grey.

My train of development has suffered a derailment;
doctors often diagnose common childhood ailments.
Is the key to this mystery that I still act like a kid?
Why aren't I getting older? Was it something that I did?

Should it Matter

Should it matter
that they live beneath the subways
among others lives who’re shattered
Yeah, they’ve seen better days

What does society care
when we are all just a paycheck away
from being right there
When did we lose our way

Is it the government’s responsibility
to house and feed those in need
better to show others our great ability
to start great wars, and make others bleed

Should it matter
that we go into massive debt
while a child’s teeth chatter
sleeping in a doorway
her infant's diaper cold and wet
during their coldest winter yet. . .

©Ralph J. Fitcher, November 9, 2009, clearly not my best, but it’s hard to be brilliant at 5:15 in
the morning. :-) Just did not want to fall behind again.

But seriously.

Marie Elena...

Talk about humor ~
Who's clever with wit?
It's Marie Elena
(with codes to submit.)

But despite those dratted codes...

She's endlessly cheery
with nice things to say.
Our boost to morale here
at Poem A Day.

Janet Rice Carnahan - Wow! That was certainly ambitious - and thank you!

And Banana - whatever you did to not get older - please share it with me!!!

Ralph - that was a powerful poem, with your chilling final like (no pun intended) "...during their coldest winter yet."

Should, probably, maybe

Should I have made him?

I could have whispered in
his ear while he slept
honey sweet persuasions

We could have talked,
wrangled, debated,
struck a bargain.

I could’ve smashed
some plates and screamed
and put my foot down.

I could’ve
I won’t say should’ve

“Should the train arrive at noon”

Should the train arrive at noon
I will reach my destination
Sooner than I planned
Should the train delay ‘til sundown
I will be a saddened man
Twenty years or more I’ve waited
To see your face again
Please let it be in daylight
So I can drink your smile
Free from cares of sleepless night “

Should I remember?

Should I remember
the moments in your arms
the desire in your eyes?

Should I remember
the taste of your kiss
the strength of your embrace?

Should I remember
the spark of your humor
the melody of your voice?

How can I forget?

I agree with you on everything you posted RJ Clarken - and if I ever find out what's going on I'll be sure to let you know - I think it might have something to do with laughing, eating and sleeping a lot :)

“Should the train arrive at noon”

Should the train arrive at noon
I will reach my destination
Sooner than I planned
Should the train delay ‘til sundown
I will be a saddened man
Twenty years or more I’ve waited
To see your face again
Please let it be in daylight
So I can drink your smile
Free from cares of sleepless night “

Ahhh - Banana - I think you might have something there! The eating and laughing part I have down pretty well (just ask my friends and family!), but the sleeping part is quite another story.

O Should I but Sleep...

O Should I but sleep?
I wish I were capable,
but I'm an insomniac,
so my fate's inescapable.

Should I Weep?

Should I weep –
now that death has
grasped her hand
and walks along
side by side,
step for step?

Or should I rejoice –
her soul’s sail
finally unfurling,
full of Heaven’s breath,
caught (at last!)
in the True Wind?

Should I stand amazed –
humbled beneath the
weight of her glory
showing forth in
tiny glints and sparkles,
the worldly spell breaking,
the evil enchantment ending?

(Reference: C.S. Lewis The Weight of Glory)

Janet - Happy to be included!
Marie Elena - A mention from you makes my whole day. Wish they could bottle and sell that way you have of boosting us up.
Walt - I'm enjoying your Beatles hit parade very much. Your talent is simply awesome.
Patricia - I'm a fan as well and agree that today's is a true gem.
I'm missing Hannah and De.

Ms, Carnahan, what can we say,
obviously you rule the day.
With masterful memory
and poem sublime,
you capture each nuance,
remember each line.
You've listed our work,
at least up to date,
and what did it cost you,
retiring so late?
One hopes that your week
continues this roll,
and that your opus
did not take its toll,
for twenty-two more days
is a long time, it's far,
I fear that you've done it,
you've set a high bar.
We'll all have to dig deep
and do what we can
to match your kind thoughts,
each woman and man.
No satire here,
no kidding, no jest,
just thanks for noticing
and to you, all the best.

Should I Head to Bed? Wowee wow wow! Janet Rice Carnahan ... ambitious is an understatement! How fun!

Janet and RJ, I'm humbled by your tributes. Thank you both ... You made my day.

Ralph, Should it Matter is nothing to apologize for. Excellent message -- well stated.

David C. Johnson, yours is quite touching.

Theresa, thank you for the uplifting comment! And I agree ... where are Hannah and De? This place just isn't the same without them. :(

Walt, can you come over here and make up some great code poetry for my codes? Believe me, I have a lot of them to offer you. ;) They're making it easy for you. They're starting to rhyme: ABC8P. 4K6G3.

I've noticed many have an aversion to the word "should." Interesting. But I should get to work. ;)

Amen, Daniel! :)

More rhyme for you, Walt, to add to the above: 5BC9B. 579MZ. 84ALD. This is getting scarY.

Should I Write this Poem?

Often when
people ask
"Should I?"
They've already
decided.
It's a way to
postpone,
avoid, or
deny
the inevitable
they have
created
for themselves:
That extra portion
of cake
and ice cream,
the unexcused
absence,
a forbidden
kiss.

I’m three days behind so I thought I’d do a haiku that incorporates the last three prompts (“cover”, “plant”, “should”):

Should We Use Ground Cover?

hey, it’s all still green
hosta, ivy, bellflower
no more mowing

Just kidding – actually I already posted a “plant” poem this morning, and will work on the others – just having some trouble keeping up this month.

As usual great words written by all!

"Should..."

Should the sun
no longer shine
and the sea
not kiss the shore,
I will take
your hand in mine
and love you
evermore.

Should the flowers
wither and fade
and mountains
tumble down,
I will walk
beside you, sweet
until the end
of time.

Should I tell her
Even if she won’t hear
Should I explain
To her deaf ears
Will it make me feel better
To make her angry
Will I get closure
Or more misunderstanding

Should I fly across the Universe…

I wouldn’t need wings. Desire would propel
my tingling body from Earth to Jupiter and then swing
me to the Pleiades, where I would sip
pink-sun wine with sisters of yesteryear and talk
about those hot, scholarly Arcturan men who feel the need
to be as bright as the star
named after their planet, which many think
exists only in the mind of Asimov.
After swimming past gooey-delicious
galaxies, each shimmering with flavors found
in old-time candy shops, I would stop
at a sea storm and remember
the lavender gentle days of Atlantis, before its people grew
haughty, and with unrecognized hubris, blew
away their world, leaving behind only whispers and yearning.
I would skip from star to star, until my spinning
lungs begin screaming at me to slow down and then I’d hitch
a ride on a scarlet-crystal asteroid hurtling
through this deep velvet-rumbling space.

SHOULD I TELL HIM

Should I eat this awful stuff
she shoves in front of me
this orange steaming mound
Her lips curl in a cruel smile
she knows I have no choice
She wipes her fingers on her skirt
leans on the corner of the table
Watching me, intent on my first bite
I lower my head, pick up the spoon
Sliding the tip under a gooey bit
I lift it to my mouth
The smell revolts me, I drop the spoon
spattering squash on her skirt
I see the quick anger
ignite behind her glasses
She stabs her finger in my face
no words escape her lips
just the fiery anger in her eyes
She plops another spoonful on my plate
stands with hands on her hips
I quickly pick up the spoon
shovel the goop into my mouth
gagging and choking I swallow
pushing it in as fast as I can
When the plate is empty
she picks it up with a sneering smile
I sit with tears streaming down my face
Should I tell him, would it matter

J. Kuykendall

Should Not Have Pressed Send

I Should not have pressed send
In such a mood
Removed all my fingers
Before being rude
Could have gone for a walk
Raked up some leaves
Headed off to the gym
Let off some steam
But no, I just ranted
Flamed in email
Then sent it off quickly
Leaving a trail
Of cuts in its wake. They'll
think me quite daft,
Wish I'd had the sense to
Leave it a draft.

To RJ Clarken

Should I reveal this secret I was once told by a Prof?
"Lie as close as you can to the side of the bed - you'll very soon drop off."

Banana - brilliant!!!

Should


Should "should" be
eliminated from the
vocabulary
and if it were to
be so would there
be a lapse, a void
a remarkable freedom
from cowardly constabularity

Should Have Known

“The thing I need you to know,”
the young woman says, in her suit, to the interviewee
as he stands near the door, ready to go,
“Is that this job was originally meant for a woman.”
He looks back at her, out over her shoulders, through the windows
into the great New York sky skirting the tops of others’
attempts to reach the highest positions in all the Fortune 500’s.

“I will bow like the best of them,” he replies, no irony in his voice.
He takes her job over within the year.

Should you read this

Should you read this
It will change your mind
It will make you rethink
All the fiery, villainous words
You have ready for me.

Should you take up this paper
And see into me
For once, for real
It will make it impossible to assume
As you always have that we are different
That you are superior enough to toss me aside

Should you understand me
You will have to change who you are
Admit you were wrong
Ask for help
For once, for real
It will make you possible to live with,
Should you read this.
So, should you?

Trajectory
(Should have taken a left at Albuquerque)


Ooops. There it is, the dot on the map
of her heart, where she went wrong,
tiny little bugger but with all the thud
and finality of a period.

She traces her own landmarks with
trembling finger, nods, grabs a pen
and with one fast and fluid, inky curve
turns it into a comma.

Should have remembered

The moment I put the orange juice
by your place setting I knew
I should have remembered

It was a big thing
to forget
how much you disliked it
but you drank it anyway
all those years

for me
you said

I should have known
you would do that for me
keep taking what was offered
in spite of your own taste

I should have remembered that
when you said
you didn't love me
for a long time
before you left

Should I?

Should I write or not?
Should I try to untangle this massive web of thoughts?

Should I shake them from my head?
Should I rip them out and write them down?
Should I pour them out?
Should I allow myself the relief?
Should I stop the madness?

Can I stop the madness?


If I do, will they stop?
Will clouds part?
Will the sky clear?
Will I be able to see again?
Think again?
Participate again?
Sleep again?
Will I be repaired?
Fixed, normal again?

Can I stop the madness?

And if I can...then...
Should I?

How should I tell the Children?

Yes, I need to tell them
I should have told them sooner
I don’t want to tell the children

The social worker told me
Bad news is easier to tell
When you tell them just a few
Bits and pieces at a time.

I can’t believe I’m going to die
Though everybody does it. I’m
Over 65, collecting medicare . My
Children all have families of their own.

This is what they tell me, that it’s
Not as bad as cancer, it’s not so very
Common.. . It affects the automatic nervous
System. So far, there’s no cure.

My daughter knows there’s something
Wrong. Maybe she’s scared of cancer.
I don’t know what to tell her. I should
Take her with me to the doctor. Let him

Answer all our questions. Oh, Lord,
It’s only been three years since their
Father passed away. At least they say
It’s gradual, it could be more than five years--.

And they’re still working on a cure. It
Might not be so bad. I should have told
Them sooner. I’ll take my daughter to
The doctor.. She’ll know what things
To say.

Should You Need Someone

Should you need someone to tilt
at windmills by your side,
I would don rusty pitted armour,
your ribbons tied to my sleeve.

Should you need someone to untie
you from the railroad tracks,
I would do Dudley and save you Nell,
your flaxen hair in ribbons.

Should you need someone with stories
at night to tuck you in,
I would pull rocker to your bedside
and then spin in ribbon dreams.

Should you need someone to pull you
inside and hold love tight,
I would fly to you on beating wings,
arms wide ribbons to wrap you in.

Should you need someone....

Oh, my dear Marian. Your post made me gasp. God give you and your children strength to handle whatever is in store. One never knows what research may discover in the near future.

Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot?

The face is familiar.
The name’s right
on the tip of my tongue.

But suddenly details are foggy.
Should I write it all down,
take pictures, keep journals?

Slips of paper—reminders--
fill my pockets, cryptic notes
I can’t decode,

though I wrote them
just yesterday or the day
before. I forget which.

Should I let them slip away
if they will, trust my mind at rest
to slough off the inessential?

Last in, first out—
does memory work that way?
If so, should I remember you?

Should I run from this feeling,
this overpowering, intense, even
yearning feeling? This primitive
chemical in my brain makes me
willing to do almost anything.
Should I run from this dangerous
emotion, known as love?

Should I Just Be Me?

No manicures,
no pedicures,
or fancy clothes.
A natural
coiffure,
amber eyes in the sun,
ebullient smile,
soft curves,
and an even softer kiss.

Yet it is not enough.
Should I
be his jewel
or my own
woman?

Should I Cry For You?
Do you want me to laugh?
I did, I couldn’t help it.
Self pity does not become you,
You are stronger than that.
I held you up, you let go and fell, I will be there.
Do not expect me to tolerate your behavior, you are better now.
Should I cry, should we weep, should you drown in sorrow?

Should I Awake Tomorrow

Should I awake tomorrow and open
Up my eyes; should my lashes flutter
Free from sleep and transform what is
Into oh what might have been; should I
Chance to hear you utter, “Shush,
I’m okay, It was all just a nasty
Dream,” I’d wrap you in my blanket,
Rolling it tight from seam
To satin seam, and bask in the velour
Bliss of its don’t-dare-ask
Cocoon.

Should There Be No Warning

Chasms of indisputable truths
separate mothers from their daughters
these great spaces require yelling

strident as the foghorns of our sloughs
in shrouded winter where if noxious
caution stopped worrying onto you

any hope those ropes wetsuit and rules
passed down like favorite recipes
would help you out of the deep would cease

if you fell the boats in which you cruise
won’t fathom murmuring as waterfall
like I can but land a swim away

leads to shore whereas the ship of fools
takes the water tumble so will you
swim remembered strokes to reach safety

with learned brashness and our rifts your tools

Should I Listen to Them?


He says, she thinks,
they want, you need,
I ought

Everyone knows
which path I should take
what decision to make
to get my life back on track, but

I am the one ankle deep in mud,
scrabbling over rocks, sneaking past
snakes, snagged by briars. I am
the one trekking uphill, gasping
for air; and when

I pause to catch my breath,
get my bearings,
check for blazes,
it hits me:

they are merely spectators;
on this trail I’m the only one
in hiking boots

Shouldn’t Have

Where did the moon
Go?
We were at the front of the boat
Riding the waves
Laughing at the
Sea spray
You told me I looked
Beautiful
We held hands until the morning sun
Kissed our necks
We made love
One more
Time

We named stars until the
Clouds
Swept in fast and the
Rain settled into a
Pattern of
Destruction
Where did the moon
Go?
How did we wind up outside of the
Light?
Did the sun’s burning rays
Force us
Into something
Different?

This shouldn’t have
Happened

Should I

The morning sun has raised it beams through window fair.
I lay wondering should I arise, would anyone really care.
Searching for the answer, can’t find a reason why
Yesterday life was oh so grand. Today, was the good bye
The one that I have treasured so, just walked right out that door
No rhyme or reason given just said she’d not return no more.
Life has been a slice, she said, but its forever has slowed me down.
With suitcase packed for traveling she lit out for another town
Should I comb the country and find what she’s about
Will that make a difference? No, that I kind of doubt
Her ship has left my harbor; the ocean lost its tide
Drained into my pillow My beds in override
Floods are present danger and may drown a broken heart
Piled up bags just won’t help life gates have fallen apart.

This "should" brought options to mind which then brought "cleave poems" to mind again. Since there is no formatting allowed here, read it thusly. The lines before the "-" are one poem. The lines after the "-" is another poem, and reading the lines all together is a 3rd poem.

should I - age gracefully
dye my hair - go gray
like so many women - my age
cover my well worn - face
complexion - showing every year
with layers of makeup - not making up for time
pretending youth - that no longer exists
trying to ignore - the experiences of many years
the ravages ot time - making me who I am
should I idolize youth - be proud of all of those experiences
try to be what I am not, ignore things - that gave me this gray hair
that show my age - the lines on my face
or be the person I am - I wear my age proudly

Should the Cats be Loose?

I feel guilty to
support a leash law for cats
but love to watch strays

I Can't Hold Onto You

I can't hold on to you: concept, lover, moment, peace, bitterness, truth, waking, sleep.

You slip through me. I can't hold onto you: punchline, storyline, travel story, money.

Whenever you are there: faces, hands, sweaters, kind eyes, you slip into street, background, bookcase, dream that slips into words dropping furnished rooms into blur all along the way.

I can't hold onto you: self, who, divinity, what.

Whenever you are there: birdsong, bridesgown, blessing, betrayal, you slip into wall, (candle out), floor, weatherfront, highway, (flat or flattening) into memory that slips, of course, better, faster, than even all the rest.

Should I Lunch at Rembrandt's? 11-8-09

Three days in a row
(promised in two)
son's car in shop
so I have to drop him off at college classes
and just happen to pass the river on
the way home
perfect excuse my birthday week
to stop at Bluffview
park and inhale and mourn the
end of September
celebrate the butterfly blue
as October sky
that ushered in my life
now invigorated by
my pace across the glass walk
and my clops along the planks
and my river-gazing
why not treat myself to salad
and artichoke-tomato soup
and fresh-brewed peach tea
and a dark-chocolate dipped meringue
(when I bite in it flakes and crumbs
all over me and my plate
I fret over losing any morsel)
in the breezed and shaded courtyard of
the coffee shop
where I imagine I'm in Europe
because it looks and feels
so.

Should I denounce?

A child with odd behavior
Sitting alone in the middle of the soccer field
Head hanging low
Staring at her lap

Child, what ails you
That you isolate yourself so?

Somebody keeps telling to do some things
I like to breeze on my face
It makes me think better

Who child?
In my dream somebody does things to me

What things child?
Silence

It's a secret, I can't tell

SHOULD I DITCH YOGA TODAY?

Unexpected mundane nuisances came up at the last minute,
And yoga can be painful-
But the pain of yoga makes my muscles stronger,
And yoga is empowering, transcending unexpected mundane nuisances,
So why am I sitting at this stupid computer
When yoga starts in ten minutes?
Poetry can wait -
I have yoga to do!

SHOULD I WRITE THIS POEM?

If,
as some believe,
a poem must rhyme,
then this little tome of mine
isn’t a poem.

It is prose,
or text,
or belles lettres.

It is fine literature,
script,
characters on a page.

If I continue,
it could become a journal
or a diary,
a précis
or a manuscript.

But for now,
it is merely a few echoes
of my own voice
reverberating in the twilight hours,
entered onto a computer screen,
to be read by a select few
who appreciate the golden tones
of the written word.

Should Always Consider the Green

Knee-high to a grasshopper on shoulds
Handed-down rhetoric for your good?
Stretched her wings, grasses green
Nibbling regions unseen
And would you, at eighty, if you could?

“Should I wake before I die…”

I hope I rise before I fall, ache
like birth and peel like rain,
dyed a shade of mirth before I clutch at tears,
tinted as a shadow,

Lingered like smoke.
May I form before I fade, feeling
for the bottom of the sea,

slip into darkness and hide myself
within that crush of sky only I have known.
May I leap with phantom toes, sink
beneath the crashing earth, breathe
once more like steam.

Should one risk the frisky feline


Bartholomew Foggerty, the brilliant weasel
Was preening away with his favourite teasel
He was mulling and musing on a problem most sticky
The painting of cats had always proved tricky
It was easy enough to get one to pose
And the top half was easy, especially the nose
But from there on down the problem began
And it never came out the way that he planned
The difficulty was simply with the model
At the crucial moment he always would waddle
And stretch and scratch and yawn and preen
A more awkward subject could never be seen
He’d tried it before, many times in fact
But never quite managed to finish the act
Now a new cat was coming to take the stage
And Bart hoped that he would sit still and behave
He wanted to capture an elegant look
One that would charm, not one that shook
From side to side and front to back
A portrait that showed that Bart had the knack
At three o’clock sharp came a knock at the door
But not one cat entered, instead there were more!
There were three fat tabbies like large furry gifts
Who said they would take turns posing in shifts
One was called Sally, one Betty and one Emma
And they claimed this was the answer to the dilemma
And so it was that after so many tries
Bart succeeded to his own great surprise
In capturing purrfectly the perfect pose
Of a tabby cat from tail to nose
So whilst it’s hard to paint one feline
It seems that with three it turns out just fine
For they take it turns when one gets an itch
That must be scratched or an urge to twitch
Bart put the portrait on display
And found that it sold straight away
Now having become a fervent cat lover
He called the cats back to paint another.


Iain.

Janet Rice Carnahan: Wow! Thank you for that wonderful poetic summary...and for mentioning me! :-)

title: should you come
to late

should you come
to late
do not pretend
that you meant
to come early.

Without you
here, my
heart's beating
will weigh
less than a
feather.

I have the
lengths of white
linen, the
coins to pay the
ferry man, and
without you
my heart
is so very,
very
light.

Should I leave?

Should I leave this house
where Mom and Dad,
Mom, then Dad took care
of me amidst the covert

war they waged against
each other? Should I leave
them to their own lives while
I try and live my own in a

apartment of my own, shared
with a lover as new beginnings
roll out before me? Should I
take this chance? Take the

bit between my teeth and bolt
as fast as my wheels can turn
down the ramp and into the
challenge of sitting alone

in my wheelchair, daring
the world to bring me both
its best and its worst?

Day 8 Should I leave you alone

You try my patience
You make me scream
You bring out the most negative side of me
Yet I willing bring you into my arms
and surround you with the warmth and love you no longer desire.
I often wonder should I leave you alone
Let the cold realities of this world
Slap you in the face
Until you realize just how good you had it
Should I leave you alone to suffer?
Or would you surprise me and grow
Unhindered by my words of love and encouragement
Would you surprise me?
And like a cactus in the desert thrive
In the harshest conditions
No I don’t think I could survive without knowing
How much you have grown and changed
I don’t think I could survive knowing that you haven’t changed at all.

Should anyone wait?

Should anyone wait
for promises?
Should anyone idle
in hope?

Should I keep holding out my hands
wanting something to fill them?
Or should I just
hold out all I have
in my palms
and give it to you-
expect nothing
in return,
never holding my breath…

just believing
the right thing to do
is to love you
for nothing.
.
To love you
just to feel love
just to dance with that movement inside me
that quiet hope
of kindling…

should I ask for anything more?

Thank you RJ, Thank you Marie, I am glad you enjoyed the poem. I seem to have less time to write these days, but I am going to finish this challenge.

Ralph

Should Anyone Ask

It is evening. I have wandered off. Okay,
I've been abandoned. I am lost. My feet are
dirty. I carry a branch of laurel but still
my prayers are fruitless.

The sky is the color of wild greens. The moon looks
counterfeit and sad. The dragonflies make music by
opening and shutting their wings and the
toadflax nearly reaches my knees.

I will not chase love like a stray dog. I am
not a fool. I will leave these accursed woods.
But first I must wash my feet. And close my
heavy eyelids and sleep. Don't worry; it's just
a little nap.

Should I?


Should I speak what’s
on my mind
or keep my mouth shut?

Should I write poems
or catch up
on my e-mail?

Should I listen
to the radio
or go on the internet?

Should I call
my mom today
or should I call her tomorrow?

Should I visit a friend
or should I stay home
to do housecleaning?

Should I go to bed
early tonight
or should I stay up late?

Choices! Choices! Choices!
Oh so many choices.
It can be overwhelming at times
but that’s part of life.


Noreen Ann Jenkin, author of
You'll Learn to Love Me

Should she take that step

She takes one step
away from the Earth.
her index fingernail is still hooked onto
the blue of the seas,
the dogwood blooming in
her backyards,
the perfection of baby teeth.
Should she take that last step
These things would be behind
Her but the view would be clean
And black, the sun clear, the
Stars unwinking before her.

Should I Knock Once More?

Uncertain memory
scores the track of days

Rock. Sunlight.
Thoughts flit like butterflies

at times gentle in whispered hope
then flint-sharp,

poisoned like the noxious weed
oil stains on the road
to somewhere
puddling in the mind,


I too, the ephemeral polymorph
one existence solitary
another in tandem
they stand together

this side of the door
between the pools

of enlightenment and innocence
of ordinary and absurdity

tomorrow…
should I confront the barrier?

Pull the cord?
Begin the journey?

or is this the diapause
the half-life that stills the muse?

Carol A. Stephen
November 8, 2009
PAD Challenge poem

Should I be surprised
at the way it's ended?
Should I even care?
You never cared.
Should I allow these eyes
to cry these tears?
Should I allow my heart
to feel these fears?
Should I feel betrayed
at the way you discarded
my love without a thought?
Or should I just chalk it up
to a lesson learned
with feelings bought.

Should Have

Regret, he told me
Is a healthy emotion
A teacher of sorts

Should I pursue it all?
The great novel trilogy
That began as a dream,
The poetry chapbook
That began as a challenge,
The column syndication
That began as a wish,
The blog I hope matters
That began as an observation,
The trip across the country
That could change everything,
All in one month?

Yes.
He was proud of me
Before I ever called him
Daddy.

Finally I got around to this one! I've been reading and enjoyuing Joseph's mythology poems, so I guess they partially inspired this work, but the main inspiration actually came from a phrase that stuck in my head while agonizing over this prompt: "Should I shoulder..." And of course I thought of Atlas....


Should I Shoulder (Atlas)

Should I shoulder your world
and labor under a misconception,
created by your Renaissance sculptors?
I never carried your planet.

Instead, I held the very firmament
together, the roof of the heavens
in their place. I became the axis
for the music of the spheres, spinning
concentrically through the universe.
I was not entrusted with just one world.

In your art, I heft it like some
rocky medicine ball,
straining biceps and quadriceps
to their demigodly limit.
What’s true is that I worked hard
to keep the skies in proper tilt,
though once I tried to get Heracles
to take over ( just for a minute, I swear )
but he skipped out on me,
taking his blasted apples with him.

I really couldn’t care less about Earth.
I could kick it like a pebble in the street.
But you honor me with books of maps
in my name, and I can’t help but be flattered
by all those statues. So I’ll shrug
my shoulders, shift my weight a bit,
and keep you whirling through space
for a little while longer.

1. Should ¬______

Should Have Known

“The thing I need you to know,”
the young woman says, in her suit, to the interviewee
as he stands near the door, ready to go,
“Is that this job was originally meant for a woman.”
He looks back at her, out over her shoulders, through the windows
into the great New York sky skirting the tops of others’
attempts to reach the highest positions in all the Fortune 500’s.

“I will bow like the best of them,” he replies, no irony in his voice.
He takes her job over within the year.

Sevenling: Should I?

Should I…
take it personally, make excuses, or
weep over a bottle of red wine?

Because you…
were glad we connected again, enjoyed me, but
don’t really care one way or another.

Or should I dance?

should you

should you be reading this
you will know from the
weight of the words
the silence between the lines
the scent of thoughts left unsaid
how far I have travelled
to get free of your glow

should you chance to look up
as darkness pushes into your room
before you light the lamps
you will be discomfited to find
my shadow lurking at the edge
of your reality, reluctant to depart

should you wish me back again
you should know this: never.
remember how fragile dead flowers
become, their petals crumbling
to dust as you move them about
you should picture me like that

should you awake lost and sobbing in the night
you will swear the pillow bears
the indentation of my head still
the fragrance of my perfume will haunt you
you will wail insanely for my presence
should you ever pause to think of me at all

Cheesy Sentiment

If only I woulda
Done what I shoulda
Then maybe it coulda
been of some gooda.

Should I Step on the Ant?
I’m not Buddhist, so it isn’t a religious question,
More one of consistency. What kind of a peace-loving
Vegetarian am I if I balk at a leg of lamb, but
Gleefully step on ants running across my kitchen floor
Or centipedes or spiders, even those creepy silverfish.
What version of compassion is that?
Of course most of the time there isn’t much chance to
Ask myself the question before I take that step
In fear of crawling, of disease, of six little legs and all
The hundreds of other sets of legs that must follow
A training that says insects are the enemy in its stealthiest form
In the end they will take me, but until then I will take them.

Wow!Janet Rice Carnahan after reading/writing all that, was there any night left to sleep in? Incredible!

SHOULD FATE BE DIVERTED

Should fate be diverted
by a new decree
know that my strength of faith
will carry me

Should we become departed
from our destiny
know that my fondest hopes
will follow thee

Should anything befall
the one you know as me
know that my endless love
will always be


(Multiple-stanza Naani)

Should They Hope

For a cure that will wash the scourge
of AIDS from the land like
the muddy waters of the Great Usutu
that bathes narrow valleys and dense forests
with life giving sustenance?

Should they dream
of lives with loved ones near,
healthy and happy, singing the songs
sung by their ancestors since before
recorded time?

Should they believe
that the world outside the boundaries,
beyond the mountains, across the savanna,
past the lush rain forest,
remembers who they are?

Should I Take You Back?
by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

This is the third time
your lazy ass
has shown up at my door,
filthy
disheveled
eager for another handout.
Why am I not surprised.
The first time I threw money
at you so you’d just go away,
the second time
my favorite ash tray.
Now this.
I don’t know what you
want from me,
blood?
drugs?
more money?
my tuna fish sandwich?
I don’t know what it was I
ever saw in you in the first place.
Maybe this fear is just
because I don’t want to
go down this road ... again,
or so my therapist says.
Maybe I’m just tired of
paying the Tollbooth Gods
for Love that never lasts.
Or maybe I’ve just reached a
certain point in my life where
I’m ready to stand on my
own two feet and go it all alone.
Why complicate things now?
You’re the one who chose
your street life, so why should
I have to pay for that?
garbage cans over
home-cooked meals,
what’s up with that?
You’ve made it abundantly clear
your freedom is far more important
than anything I’d have to offer,
preferring to peek IN rather than
OUT any rain-streaked windows,
and yet
here I am
standing in the aisle
at Pet Smart again
trying to decide between
blue or pink.

Damn you Stray!


© 2009 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

Should is a small word for Man

But a giant in morality for mankind.
It says so much about its speaker:
'I exist, I know why, I know you,
and I know what you are thinking'.

A single syllable starting with a sharp sibilant,
easy to say, for some inclined that way,
but it comes with button, detonator
and its own explosive.

So think twice all you shudders,
of what you would have others
cannot do or could
you know you should.

Should ye come and all the flowers be falling....


Quietly I went to Cashel
where there lays
a solid stone
said to be the very one
St Patrick christened
a Christian king on--
the first of his kind.
Later, power peacefully
passed to the church,
who built with stone,
raising a stronghold
standing now in ruins
that shiver the spine,
moisten the eye,
humble the pride
of mortal flesh.
For the flowers are fallen,
the songs reduced
to echoes in the heart

I saw it at the fair

Five corn dogs
Three elephant ears
Four rootbeers
A large chocolate shake
Two ears of roasted corn

A deep-fried Twinkie®
Carmel corn
Almost a whole bag
of salt-water taffy
And a carmel apple

At the end of the day
Burt had not choice
But to explode
Right there
in the midway

Should
have taken time for family for me.
Only I did not.
Useless hours spend on work.
Looking only at the bottom line,
digging out the next best thing and finding nothing.

Should I write and try to post
Or should I just give up?
I write to each days prompt
During November just as I did in April.
The difference seems to be this time
I have to fight and fight to post my work
In comments with an impossibly stubborn code.
I enter the code and wait with bated breath
To see if the security to prevent robots
Will once again deny that I am human.
“Please enter code shown,” in bright red letters
As if scolding me for not obeying.
Again I enter the code and press. “Save comment”
Only to once more receive a red scold.
Again and again I enter, checking ever so carefully
The each letter and number are exactly as presented.
Again and again I see the now hated red words.
After 7 days and dozens of tries
I at last have the first week complete.
Now I sit here wondering if I
Should begin the fight for week number 2?
Or should I just write to the prompts
And file them away for no one to ever see?
Well, I guess I’ll see what happens with this one.
If I have success, I’ll continue to post
But if I don’t, I’ll just look to friendlier sites for sharing.

Should, Could, Would

I could fill my days with should-dos
And I would only feel worse
About how much better I could do
If I would only do all the things
That I know I should do.

If I thought of all the things that I do do
How much happier I would be
To know all of the things that I can do
Instead of the should, could, would
So much more good would that do.

Should we go on?

Should we go on, as a race?
And by race I mean humans
Have we ever all agreed
on anything , as a race
The Human Race
No, we are all too different
And the possibilities of choices
Likes and dislike are infinite
No, we will never all agree

Should we go on? Us humans,
“Kings” of our jungle, slowly poisoning
The other animals who are helpless
Against us
Poisoning them, killing them till extinction is
Their only legacy
And not just the creatures great and small
But the plants and trees,
the fields, forests and seas
We move or change what is in our way
What we think we don’t need.
What we don’t give thought to

And what of us animals, should go on?
Scratching and clawing to the top of…
Well I’m not sure, but the causalities
Of sharp nail, quick tongues and
dagger eyes are stabbing the backs
of those who should be your brother,
perhaps he was.

We opposable thumbed, critical thinking
Creatures have advanced tools to
Ensure our survival
Guns and bombs and organizations
And war
Some have slipped to drugs and addictions
Unable to help themselves
Those who can, won’t help those who need
We live for today, why worry about tomorrow
Why should we go on?

Day 8

Should I Let It Go

Writing
Not writing
Fiction
Non-fiction
Poetry
I sit.
I think.
I write.
I re-write.
I put it away.
I start something new.
Contests
Deadlines
Agents
Publishers
There’s too much information.
There’s not enough.
Frustration
Knots in my stomach
Desire to make it work
Why
Why
Why
I love to write.
Should I stay or should I go?

Shoulders

Should
ers are
for resting
weary heads up
on

Should you need
a should
er you
can rest your head up
on you can rest
your head
on mine.

Should Do

I am standing
at the crossroads
of should.
I should do the dishes
put the laundry away
eat a proper breakfast
read my mail.
I should take a job.
Should is very
near the intersection
of must and have to:
brush teeth, take pills,
answer the phone.

But,
someone at the other end will say,
“You know what you should do Alana...”

Then I will have to see
each moment with reality
the time has come it’s very clear
I recognize my life is here
It’s happening now
no time to lose
I know that soon I”ll have to choose

to do what I should.
But,
shouldn’t we enjoy our pleasures—
first snowdrops or sunlight on stone walls?
Oh, I know there are centuries of spring
and blossoms and bird song still to come

And I know what I have to do—
stop listening to people who say,
“You know what you should do Alana...”