We will remember
You brought us joy and laughter
Shine on Ben, shine on
We will remember
You brought us joy and laughter
Shine on Ben, shine on
Hello All. The prompt today, write a poem about an edible plant. After a 12 hour day I just had time for this little ditty.
the life span of peas Tendrils reaching Clinging climbing Leaves unfolding Late spring timing Flowers blooming Bees humming Pods setting Peas coming Summer crisping Ready brining Plants vanishing Rabbit dining
Hello All. Todays prompt was to write a poem of negation, to describe something by what it’s not. After an 11 hour work day, here is my poem.
Sleep I implore you, The sheets they await Let me restore you Curl up for it’s late These are not your ceilings This is not your floor The mirror reflects your feelings But a keycard opens the door Inner cupboards always Starkly bare as bone The outer narrow hallways Repetitions of alone No mail piles the desktop To testify life happened in A space fronting a truck stop This must be a Brampton Inn
Hello All. The prompt for today was to write a poem extolling the virtues of something, or someone, while actually exposing your doubts. I wrote about that ever popular pearl of advice – study hard and become rich and famous.
Get Rich and Famous Grow up young thing, fly into the world. Study hard for success will follow the money to find Fame. Fame Celebrity Notoriety Infamy The path is well worn, following the rainbow end. Grow up young thing, trek into the world. Study what you love, work will follow the passion to build Reputation. Reputation Integrity Honesty Trust The path is long, with many intriguing byways. Grow up young thing, roam into the world. Study the smiles around you, goodwill will follow the generosity of Kindness Kindness Respect Empathy Peace The path is winding, and best traveled together. Grow up young thing, Set off into the world. Hand in hand in hand.
Hello All. Today the prompt was to write a parody or satire of a well known poem. I have chosen The Next Poem by Billy Collins, which I will include, in all its glory, below. But first, with all apologies to Mr. Collins, my entry –
Not The Next Poem Had the question ever come up, NaPoWriMo poets would all say the same thing: the only poem we are interested in is this poem, the one being written, the poem of today. It is the only answer, which conjures up some kind of hope and manages to place on the lighter tray of the scale of desperation a gram of promise. The problem is as soon as you start to write it, this poem is not yet a finished poem, rather a poem your are trying to write, a poem that needs time and attention, a clinging fungi needing to be fed now, no time to wait for the future richness of decay. And that is why I have an obsession with this poem, in where it is going, or how it will manage to find a way to the end. It could waft into daydream, maybe shift into the rehab waiting room where I really am entering this into a notebook, or circle back to the layers of fungi, for all I care. All I care about is this poem, not the next one, or number 15, or 20, which might even have a harder prompt- A haiku - what hangs on your miniature tree? A clerihew - how does a shrouded piano sound? The ultimate pose poem of a caged bird? Or, how about this? How to finish a poem with a striped umbrella?
And here is the original poem by the wonderful Billy Collins, originally published in POETRY May 2004, and copied from poetryfoundation.org
Today was a busy day, so I am not sure I gave the prompt its proper due. The prompt was to try writing a short poem (or a few, if you’re inspired) that follows the beats of a classic joke. Emphasize the interplay between the form of the poem – such as the line breaks – and the punchline. I seemed to have tried to emphasize the form . . .
Hello All. This day the prompt is to write a poem that addresses itself. A “Dear Poem” poem as it were. This drew me right to my favorite form.
Beloved Haiku Perfect petite poetry Widens worlds for me Oh friendly reader A haiku written for you Now it exists too
Hello all. Todays prompt is to write a poem that incorporates something overheard. Well tonight I was a witness to this exchange.
Tic-Tac-Toe The archery range is a buzz with folks Some shooting arrows Some telling jokes Two little girls sit with paper and pen Playing tic-tac-toe Over and over again But not with each other, no, each their own games X-ing and O-ing In their own frames. To a passing archer, a doll-like face said “Don’t shoot your bow Play tic-tac-toe instead?” “Why not play with your sister?” the bowman replied “You both know the game You are sitting side by side.” “We are banned” they said, with faces so sad “We can’t play against each other for one year said our Dad.”
Today’s prompt, as you can tell, was to write a sea shanty. You will be able to tell what my main activity was today, as you read mine. And it was written to the tune of “Haul Away Joe” with a life time of thanks to Theodore Bikel. It’s a doozy.
Pay All Our Dough When I was a little lad, me mother always told me Save your travel receipts, and keep in the know And when I was a youthful teen, my bosses all would scold me Fill out your W4 and keep withholdings low Pay, we must pay, we pay our tax together Pay, we must pay, we work for the dough Pay, we must pay, we pay our tax forever Pay, we must pay, we pay with our dough And when I grew and joined a crew, me HR person told me Use form W4-P, your pension you will grow When the forms grow tall as trees, my tax preparer scolds me, Tivvy! If your late again my boy, some penalties you’ll owe Now I am an older bloke. I know I am not civil Pay, we must pay, we’ll pay what we owe When the tax man comes, I’ll run him off and send him to the devil. Tivvy! Pay, we must pay, we’ll pay all our dough So I bought a boat, a home of note, to use as a deduction Pay, we must pay, we’ll pay for your boat Section 179 makes it fine, there is no real corruption Pay, we must pay, away you will float Pay, we must pay, you’ll sail for finer weather Pay we must pay, we pay all our dough Pay, we must pay, deductions stay together Pay, we must pay, I’ll play with your dough
Today, the prompt, a Sonnet. And like many sonnets, the theme for the prompt -Love.
spring walk soft green lawn slopes down to a velvet lake a loose patchwork of blankets coats the grass the picnics planted in sunshine and cake pulse with the hubbub of holidays past the chatter of friends now reunited - the bright laughter of family sharing the squeals of barefoot children delighted balls flying, corns holing, frisbees airing and dogs, dogs, dogs, all wagging in the breeze the big and the small, some smooth, some poodles dachshunds and frenchies and the three Burmese huskies and bulldogs, mutts, labs, and doodles. and you, heart repaired, walking all the way me holding your hand and loving the day