Clutter / Genius

When I first saw this sticker, I had to smile. If this were true I definitely would qualify. Seems I had a hard time convincing my wife! Philosophy does not seem to change reality! Clutter is still clutter. This is my limerick full of wishful thinking!!

When she saw here man’s bench she would mutter

His workbench was covered with clutter

Then she was told

He was a genius to behold

So no more words did she utter

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

I must say it has improved greatly since this photo was taken!!


Everything stops as lights blink red

We wait under ominous dark clouds

for the light to turn green

Instead it turns a flashing yellow

Warning us to take caution

As we move through life’s intersection

An accident here can be deadly

Slowly the line begins to move

Seeing the light break in the clouds

Bringing hope of lifting clouds

and brighter days ahead


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

A stream of consciousness poem

Putting on a Hug

Our disposable society has a lot of downside and excess baggage that comes with it. I believe we lose so much these days because we are too quick to discard what we once held dear. Whether it be friends or family or spouse, everything these days is dispensable. Commitment and vows seem to be archaic confinements in this generation. We seem to forget that in relationships we will have differences; things that may hurt deeply, but forgiveness is always a part of life. Without forgiveness, we will go on repeating our same mistakes and adding more and more baggage to our life’s load.

She tells me it’s time to throw it out

Faded and worn // button missing

But to me it is something special

A security blanket of sorts

Putting on this old shirt is like

putting on a hug


Just like a long-time friend

with all our quirks and flaws

We are something special

A security blanket of sorts

Having you as a friend is like

putting on a hug


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Sharing this one on open link night at d’Verse.

Join us at: Then click on the Mr. Linkey box to read from the different poets.

Summer’s End

“Broken shadows across the cracked ground”

Sunflower bows its withered head

Dry seeds pecked out by finches

Leaves droop in hot sunshine

Stalk towering tall

Equinox winks

Trees blushing




Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today’s Poetics at d’Verse once again challenges me to try something new. Laura asked us to write a poem using a line from a list given. The one I am doing is the Nonet, which is syllable based starting with nine and ending with one. She gave us a choice of beginning lines and we had to continue it in sequence. I chose: “Broken shadows across the cracked ground” (cite Merwin) .With the Fall Equinox just around the corner, I used my dried up sunflower as my subject.

Join us at: click on the Mr. Linkey box and choose a poem to read from the list of writers.


A Dunkard Brethren church once sat at the top of the ridge overlooking Willow Run. Now in crumbles of brick and mortar, flowering honeysuckle invite bees to commune at their cups of sweetness. Blacksnakes slither through the rubble looking for a toad or rat residing there.

It was in this church where itinerant preachers on horseback brought fiery brimstone, forgiveness, and grace to the faithful who gathered. Souls were saved and dunked all the way under in Willow Run.

On the hillside the full moon reflects off of a few protruding graveyard stones. Most have long since been overgrown and broken. The names on the stones kiss the ground, above the deceased as “In their dreams they sleep with the moon.”

Tales are told by the ancients, who still live nearby, that at midnight’s full moon rise, horses pounding hooves echo through the night!

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Merril introduce a prosery prompt. This is a short story of no more than 144 words that can be flash fiction, true, or far out imaginary. It must include a random line from a poem that she shared with us. Her line was from a Mary Oliver poem, (Death at Wind River),“In their dreams they sleep with the moon.” My story is flash fiction, based on a little church from my home town. My two brothers and I visited there two years ago, and I took a bunch of photos. These are a couple of photos from there. The story is made up.

Join us at:

Charles Atlas

Charles Atlas ad

When I was an twelve years old, in 1959, I was big for my age. My mother bought me clothes that had ” Husky” on the label. I felt very self-conscious and wished I could be skinny, fit, and muscular like the Charles Atlas ads I saw in the back of every comic book. Once, I cut out the ad filled, in my name and information, and sent it in. In a couple of weeks, I got an envelop with a set of mimeographed pages illustrating a set of exercised to do. I soon lost interest in that effort.

When I tuned thirteen, my parents had the insight to send me to work summers on my uncle’s dairy farm. Daily labor pitching haybales worked much better for becoming fit. I loved the farm, and worked there five summers. By the time I graduated high school, I was slim, trim and muscular. Now I am back to Husky plus!

Atlas course goes bust

Baling hay builds strong muscles

Summers on the farm

Attention Span – 911 Memorial

This morning I turned on the TV to watch and remember the 9-11 attacks, that killed so many innocent people in New York City. There were comments and news bites, but the talking heads kept interrupting and distracting. Network TV went on with trivia as usual. As the Vice President delivered his remarks. only one network was watching. The rest had already moved on to old news! It just caught me the wrong way, so I decided to write a poem reflecting on my feelings of the morning.

Planes crashing into towers

New York City belching smoke

Americans at work


News trickles into tsunami

Eyes and Ears glued

Real-time terror

Quite different from

Video Games

Reality blended with tears


Flash forward…

Talk shows // Politics

Preempt memories

Horrors dressed in flowers

Commentators jabber

while Vice-President speaks

Dead names read



Sad specifics

Too much for delicate ears

Might reignite fear and anger

More salacious news appeals

How sad when heroes

Go unrecognized

Soon to be forgotten


Replaced by

A magnificent tower

A fountain

A marble stone

engraved with names of lost

Loved ones still mourn

CNN regurgitates

President’s faux pas


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Darkness to Light

Bing image

Today at d’Verse, Peter from Australia challenged us to focus on editing. He said we should write like a dog and edit like a cat. Love what you write, then go back and edit like it was the first time you read it. He asked us to take a poem we had already written and reedit it. Then post both poems to show the changes. This is a poem I did a couple of years ago.

Face the Light

In the black darkness

one can see a candle

burning in the distance

unless he turns his back

staring into the darkness

where there is no light

The first is hope

the other is depression

Turn until you see the light

Focus on it

Follow it

It will light your way

Guiding you out of the darkness


Face the Light

Black darkness overwhelms

Distant candle burns // shines

Bringing glimmer’s promise

unless I turn back

staring into the abyss

blackness swallowing me


Choosing hope over

dark depression

I strain against darkness grasping light

Focus // Follow glimmer’s path

Light of Promise // Guides me

Brighter day dawns

Darkness to Light


For some great editing tips join us at: https//