B Movies

No green

Little time

Strange ilks

No design

Cult special

Budget fare

Zombie Frenzy

Western wear

Sci-Fi villains

Crime time woes

Godzilla mayhem

Intruder foes

Killer Tomatoes

Grizzly Bears

Monster Closets

Nighttime prayers

Monsters Crash

Pajama Party

Collateral damage

Never a smarty

Oh, would you not really agree?

One never knows when to actually flee!

Poetry Prompt:

For today’s prompt, write a B-movie poem.

Photo by Jose Francisco Morales on Unsplash


Believe in the actions –

The showing of affection.

Do not rely on misleading assurances –

Or false promises –

Of foolish declarations –

For words often deceive.

Wait for the unearthing –

The simple parading –

The brandishing of who you are –

And what you signify. 

Reminders of your worth –

A simple thinking of you –

With each call or message –

A steady hand that guides –

Through struggles and discord.

A morning smile that –

Offers liberation and grace.

A simple embrace that proclaims

I will never let you go.

Unspoken actions that

Reveal a tender twining of

Two souls joined in

A thriving symmetry of 

Admiration and reverence.

Poetry Prompt:

For today’s prompt, write a foolish poem. The poem could be about a fool, about being fooled, about fooling someone, or whatever other foolish direction you wish to take it. 

Photo by Scott Broome on Unsplash

In Reference to her Children

I had eight birds hatcht in one nest,
Four Cocks were there, and Hens the rest.
I nurst them up with pain and care,
No cost nor labour did I spare
Till at the last they felt their wing,
Mounted the Trees and learned to sing.
-Anne Bradstreet

My 8x great grandmother, Anne Bradstreet, wrote poetry during the seventeenth century, and she became known as one of America’s first poets.  Although she was born in Northhampton, England, in her later years, she resided in Andover, Massachusetts.

One of her poems, In Reference to her Children, the mother and poet wrote about her her love for eight children.

Her first book of poetry, The Tenth Muse Lately Sprung up in America, was published in 1650.  It was the only book of her poetry printed in her lifetime.


in my thoughts i long to show the world the real me but hesitate from fears of rejection and ridicule…my past still haunts and whispers “you will never measure up…”its words keep me locked in a prison i know is of my own making, believing the thoughtless lyrics like a recording of a song…so i put on a mask and costume to breeze through this world and feign a wondrous show of a life held together by broken hearts and dreams…

Continue reading “Shadows”