Posted in Poetry

Vulnerable Moment

What do women think
When they watch each other?
You asked me at the club
Tonight.  Fashion ideas?
Or a critique?

I’m glad I’m not that
I said, or
I wish I were that,

And sometimes, rarely, when
There is eye contact
For a pleading, vulnerable
Moment, a cry
And then it is gone.

© Jilly’s 2016

Open Link over at dVerse Poet’s Pub.

Photo by C Lyman ©  Used with permission


Posted in Poetry

Dog Day Band Camp

A wasp lights upon the young girl’s tight calf, she jumps and flinches the flesh like a horse pestered by flies, yet clenches perfect power of will, grasping a tarnished trumpet, eyes fixed ahead, no shade, no clouds, and no pain too great for the strong.  We dare and tease and taunt one another into a self-discipline that is carried into every sector of our post-graduate lives, yells of ‘you should be there by now!’ as we break ranks and go back to run the sequence one more time, even though the last one was precision embodied.  This is how perfect 4’s are earned, not born, not given, sweated out in a dry August field, privileged to be there instead of the beach or the air-conditioned sofa in front of the TV.  No weakness, no corps-style sissy world of feeble complaints.  Sharp, crisp-edged movements, high-step, grunts, blats, dust-scattering steps and pivots, squads that drill the extra hour for the sheer pride of being called out in front to display, to prove exampled.   And the only true pampering comes from a quietly humming stainless steel cooler in the dining lodge that dispenses the coldest glass of milk ever to pass parched lips, replenish thirsting throats.

Dust mingles with sweat

Cakes, clings, struggles to fit in

Searches for found self


© Jilly’s 2016

It’s Haibun Monday at dVerse Poet’s Pub.  Join us!

Posted in Mining for Lines Writing Prompts

Writing Prompt #3

Mining for lines again!  Actually, it feels more like ‘fishing’ and I am the fish.  While my poet-husband reads aloud, lines are dropped with bait on them and lure me to bite.  (You caught me – I fished Lake Michigan for a number of years in my youth.)  Rudely interrupting his reading, I say , “Wait, wait, wait!  Go back – read that line again – the one that starts with…”    He is so patient to reread the line, even write it down for me.  (This is what happens when poet nerds marry!)  This line came from Uriel by Emerson and it screamed at me with possibility.  I’ve already written a poem, but it continues to dance around in my head, asking for a fictional counterpart.  Hmmm… waiting for it.

“A forgetting wind”

I challenge you to start with this line and see where it takes you.  If it ignites creativity, please share – I’d love to read what you write!

Cheers!  Jilly  🙂


Posted in Mining for Lines Writing Prompts, Photos, Poetry

A Forgetting Wind

A forgetting wind stretched
Out its futile
Tousled the trees
Lifted the soaring
Birds, rushing
The precociousness of clouds
That dared to splay
Children, dreaming
On the grass, but

It could not reach
Below the rooftops
The lampposts, it could
Not reach the memories
Nor drive out
The stagnant air of regret.

© Jilly’s 2016

‘A forgetting wind’ from Uriel by Emerson.
Mining for Lines Writing Prompt #3

Posted in Photos, Poetry

Sevenling (Post Rain the Lake)

Post rain the lake
Reflects butter clouds, avocado woods, Stilton sky
Impenetrable hues Moneted in twilight

Pre-breakfast the bowl
Holds northern firmament berries, cumulous yogurt, oak-bark granola
Profuse tones Flayed in daybreak

Opus mornings dance across the staff toward concerto nights

© Jilly’s 2016 Words & Photos

Stop by dVerse Poet’s Pub for a musical bit of Sevenling!

Posted in Poetry

Going Live

“Write out of the overflow of your life.”

~ Brian Miller

What was once called
My Ideal Job

To what I loved before

Six twenty-fives
Chasing paperless paper

The journey
The students
The river
Lives floating through
Carried by the tide
And then they are gone
Replaced by new

The overflow
The overflow

© Jilly’s 2016

Celebrating the 5th Anniversary of dVerse Poet’s Pub with a quadrille!

Posted in Poetry

The One Who Slipped Through

“I challenge you to write about something you were told and believed as a child.”

Thus challenged by Zoe, here is my offering.

She would not the credit share
The second job for gifting faire
To celebrate that night of birth
Mere legend could not steal the worth

Eggs were dyed and hidden round
Baskets laid with sweets unfound
New dress new shoes oh what a day
No rabbit there could have a sway

Now, lest you think deprival there
Could cause a lonely childhood bare
Do stay and hear this story through
Of quarter-born in search of tooth

She slipped beneath the window sill
Flew bravely through the night most still
This child yet holds within her heart
That fairies always do their part

© Jilly's 2016
Image found at ToothFairy.Org
Posted in Food!, Photos

Puttanesca Sauce or Dinner at the House of Ill-Repute

This sauce gets its name from its quick prep time,
making it popular with street-walkers who purportedly would
whip up a quickie batch at the end of a long night of, um, working.
So, sailor, if you are new in town to this saucy little number,
come on in, honey, and we’ll talk.

1 large clove garlic
Drizzle of olive oil
1 can diced tomatoes.
I like the fire-roasted version as they add depth to the flavor.
(4-6 fresh Roma tomatoes can be used if available.)
10 Kalamata olives, give or take, sliced.
1 TBSP capers
Dried oregano – about ½ teaspoon
Crushed red pepper – to taste.  Some like it hot!
Dash sugar
Cooked pasta
Fresh basil
Parmesan cheese, grated

Hey, Joe, let’s get cooking!

Warm the olive oil in a deep skillet and press in the garlic.
Sauté over a medium heat for a couple of minutes, taking care not to burn.
Throw in the tomatoes, olives, capers, oregano, red pepper, and sugar.
Simmer about 5-7 minutes while you grate the cheese and
snip up the basil leaves.
Serve the sauce over hot pasta and sprinkle the basil and cheese
on top.

Now, doll, before you dress and leave,
I should tell you that this usually has anchovies in it.
So, if you like it that way, slip a few in with the tomatoes.

😉  ©Jilly’s 2016

Photo by Jilly with help from CBL.