If I used the past
to draw a roadmap to the future,
I’d have expected the terrain
to be a salted earth disappointment.

Look, there’s Left Out Bay,
a bright jewel in the shadow of Half Truth Mountain.
And here I am,
the dot labeled Lone Traveler,
heading towards After Thought Lake,
waiting for the swamp smell to hit.

So I’m surprised
when the ground doesn’t give in under my feet.
The traveling doesn’t get lonely.
Even on days when I accidentally stumble
over Certain Doom Falls,
I see you’re sitting in the barrel next to mine,
arms raised, laughing and whooping as we go.

The future doesn’t look like the past at all.
Stupid map.

Process Note: This post is part Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads prompt, Let's Go Back In Time 


muscle pulls at
bone entwined by
tendon underneath

Only that
force needed
to maintain
the form

While the rest
must relax,
just enough,
to yield to
effortless vice.

Song Choice: Semi-Charmed Kind of Life by Third Eye Blind

This poem is inspired by the prompt given over at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads, Word Count With Mama Zen (a poem inspired by the pictures given, written in 60 words or less). Head on over to enjoy more great poetry.

My Parents' One Moment of Whimsy

“Androgynous”, she sneered,
admiring the glow cast
from perfectly picked cherries of course.
“What is that even supposed to mean?
 It’s suspicious, subversive
and all that’s wrong with the world today.”

I thought back
to less elegant slights,
consisting of sing-song almost rhymes,
because my name couldn’t even do that properly.
Wishing for at least a foreignness
that harmonized with rolled r’s and end z’s
if I couldn’t be an Ann, Katie or Sue.
Not a quasimodo mouthful.

Androgynous? Ambiguous!
Neither here nor there.
A halfling name for a changeling child,
a peculiar woman,
and someday an eccentric crone.
I’ve always been at home
slip sliding between worlds.
Shouldn’t my name do the same?

So now when someone says,
“Pardon, Sir or Madame,
I don’t know who you are.”
I smile and say,
“I know.”

Process Notes: I saw writing a poem about using one's name was a topic a while ago on the Toads and always thought the idea was neat. I hated my name for the longest time until I got into an online political debate with a woman who made fun of it being so androgynous sounding (and implying its androgyny made my ability to engage in a debate suspect). That was the moment I learned to love it. My parents named me after Austrian actress Romy Schneider, but for some inexplicable reason decided to throw an extra "m" in.

Today's post is for the Tuesday Platform for Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads. Check out the rest of the terrific poetry over there.