Time for Timeout

The docket today is a troublesome tease,

A tenuous tying by tension of ease.

The total? A touchpoint from A’s down to Z’s.

Would someone just put me in timeout? Oh, please!

It’s hurry and wait, and get on with the show.

I might have to pout. I have tantrums to throw.

My fingers on keyboard have miles to go.

But fresh new ideas? They have yet just to flow.

I might have to stop, sigh, and sit for a spell.

But idling is nothing I do rather well.

My thinking cap’s tilted; hold on, clientele.

The concepts will hatch when I step from the shell.

c2017 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Image:

Adapted by this user from vintage artwork.

This poem was posted in response to these prompts:

April A to Z Blog Challenge

National Poetry Writing Month / NaPoWriMo

Meme Express: “touchpoint”

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: “spell”

#atozchallenge

#napowrimo

Feel free to follow on Google Plus and Twitter. Please visit my Amazon author page as well.

Run It Off

Run It Off

Some folks jog to take off weight,

Burning calories they ate.

That’s what caught me, years ago;

Now I stride my woes to throw.

I run in circles, run for luck,

Run a fever, run amok,

Run for cover, run across,

Never just to run for loss.

Cadence calls me to persist,

Sorrow’s symbols to resist.

Counting combos, on I trudge,

Stepping past the daily drudge.

Every mile, worry fades.

My new normal beats blockades.

Mid-run, I begin to swing.

Ever gasping, still I sing.

Seldom do I seek to stop:

Mostly, I am chop-chop-chop.

Could it be I’m overbooked,

Or endorphins have me hooked?

c2017 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Image:

Adapted by this user from vintage artwork.

This poem was posted in response to these prompts:

April A to Z Blog Challenge

National Poetry Writing Month / NaPoWriMo

Five-Minute Friday: “sing”

Meme Express: “new normal”

Simply Snickers: “cadence,” “combo,” and “cymbal” or “symbol”

#atozchallenge

#napowrimo

Feel free to follow on Google Plus and Twitter. Please visit my Amazon author page as well.

Just Jolly

Must every plaint cause us to faint?

 

Each day brings junk to jeopardize,

To jerk us into compromise.

Though face-plant calls,

Forget the falls.

I’d rather skip and seek the skies.

No lasting jabber do I mean,

Nor knowingly to scoff at spleen.

It’s just that joy

Does me employ

To give a jump and then come clean.

Sure, we could moan at woes unjust;

And to address these, yes we must.

But jolly still

Beneath the chill,

I’d rather dance than bite the dust.

c2017 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Image:

Adapted by this user from vintage artwork.

This poem was posted in response to these prompts:

April A to Z Blog Challenge

National Poetry Writing Month / NaPoWriMo

One-Liner Wednesday: See subtitle.

Meme Express: “face-plant”

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: “give” or “given” or “giving”

Three-Word Wednesday: “jabber,” “knowingly,” and “lasting”

#atozchallenge

#napowrimo

#BeWoW

#1linerWeds

Feel free to follow on Google Plus and Twitter. Please visit my Amazon author page as well.