Written for: Sunday Whirl, Wordle #508
Words: border, finery, surprise, ferocious, child, card,
form, fine, effervescent, sky, rising, poorPoor child from across
the border, surprises
everyone in her past
life by rising up
to touch the sky.
A fine, effervescent
form she is, dressed
in her finery, always
remembering to send
letters and holiday
cards to those left
behind in that ferocious
country from which
she escaped.
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
Half a shipwreck,
no deck, no sailors,
just a rusty chain
hanging down among
the stones where
it washed ashore.
Clouds impose their
steely swirls onto
this hulk. In Summer,
kids climb up the sides,
gather inside, and tell
ghost stories of captains,
sailors, pirates,
and fool's gold.
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Written for: Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #76 - Write a Blank (posted by Rommy)"For this week’s prompt, I’d like us to play with one of the following phrases:
- Drawing a blank
- Blank slate
- Blank space
-'Blank'et statement
You can change the tense (ex. “draw a blank”) or change it to plural (ex. “blank spaces”) but some form of the phrase must appear in the post."A blank space
may be filled with art
or writings.
Pristine now,
care must be taken to choose
flawless fit for page.
https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe - Quatern (posted by Donna Matthews)This poem has 16 lines broken up into 4 quatrains (or 4-line stanzas).
Each line is comprised of eight syllables.
The first line is the refrain. In the second stanza, the refrain appears in the second line; in the third stanza, the third line; in the fourth stanza, the fourth (and final) line.Battling depression each day.
Try not to fall off the mountain,
though at times my balance teeters.
No one to fight except myself.
Dawn appears with familiar fears.
Battling depression each day,
with hope for a break-through today.
A white meditation ball
that illuminates my body,
chasing charcoal shadows so dark.
Battling depression each day.
Music, writing, family and friends
helps to dilute the gray. When
out, I wish to spread my stiff wings
like a bird–no destination.
When curtains part, I long to stop
battling depression each day.
https://godoggocafe.com/2021/06/30/a-majestic-machine-by-donna-matthews/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt
(posted by Devereaux and Beth)"Write a poem using, "bury hatchets under buried bodies"
bury your hatchets
time to forgive and forget
too late when buried
https://godoggocafe.com/
Written for: The Twiglets #233 - like fingerprints
child draws
in colorful fingerprints
He proclaimed
his innocence
until his fingerprints
were lifted from
the murder weapon.
like crescent moons
miniature in size
new baby's prints
Impeccably dressed, breath of mint
first date, he wanted to win
the affections of Sue
Touched her sleeve of blue,
she withdrew. Saw black fingerprints from newsprint
https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
Written for: Poetic Bloomings #340 - Make Your Choice"Today, the prompt is up to you. This is sort of a wild card day. I will offer three categories from which you choose where your poem takes you. The choices are rather ordinary. The extraordinary thing here will be the poem you write, for you are all extraordinary poets! So, her goes…Write a colorful poem– Pick a color, any color and write a poem using that color as your inspiration.Write a weather poem– Everyone talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it. So do something about it and use it in a poem. Wind, rain, snow, wherever you go take the weather with you!
Write a royal poem– You know the hierarchy – King, Queen, Prince, …Choose a ranking and make yourself the (your choice) of something. You are the King Of Rhyme, the Queen of Sumptuous foods, the Prince of Pondering… you get the idea. Write a “Royal” poem, but don’t let it be a pain!"
Pale blue sky struggles
to deepen, and coax
sun to appear. Charcoal
clouds move overhead. Few
drops of rain. We are in
a car, nearly home, and several
blocks ahead of us, everything
is enveloped in fog. Odd.
We ride into foggy area only
to discover there is no
fog, simply sheets of pounding
water covering the windshield.
For one chilling moment, nothing
is visible. Humidity follows.
https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
Written for: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #507Words: beam, virtual, spectrum, time, bundle, box, tweak
breathe, bruise, bit, torn, lostA
broad-
spectrum
rainbow's beams
are virtually
bundled colors, seen after rain.
They cannot be tweaked or placed in a box of crayons.
Breathe in cool air, 'til
bit by bit, colors fade like healing bruises. Leave me torn and lost
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
In middle of night,
I wake in a fright.
Nightmare.
Its come back again,
and I wonder when
to dare
close my eyes to light,
and banish that sight
elsewhere.
I cannot grasp my moment.
They all go by so quickly
Look at an old photograph;
start with laugh, end with weeping.
That moment passed
by, new one popped up.
Hold on to a moment, for
then it it is gone, and will you
remember?
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics (posted by Lisa)
One True Sentence"Pick one of Hemingway's quotes to be inspired by,
and write a poem."Time has been divided
into days, hours,
minutes. Time is only
an idea. Now is your
moment. Observe all
that surrounds you,
before now becomes
then.
"There is nothing else than now. There is neither yesterday, certainly, nor is there any tomorrow. How old must you be before you know that? There is only now, and if now is only two days, then two days is your life and everything in it will be in proportion."
–For Whom the Bell Tolls (1940)
https://dversepoets.com/2021/06/22/dverse-poetics-one-true-sentence/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe
Tuesday Writing Prompt (posted by Devereaux and Beth)"Write a poem using "lemonade days".
Children set up a stand
selling lemonade in days of Summer.
Friends lent them a helping hand,
dependent of course on weather.
A dime a cup was all they charged
for pure homemade lemonade.
Fifteen cents bought you a large.
From nearby tree, a bird serenade.
Today the sun bears down
only a soft breeze sashays
to take away your frown,
for these are the lemonade days.
https://godoggocafe.com/
Written for: The Twiglets #232 - "shadows vanish"
When his shadow vanished
so did I.
After the plum-scarlett
sky vanished, night
occluded the beach.
Not even shadows
could be seen.
shadows imprinted
confused frog on lily pad
sees two reflections
Wendy was worried and pacing
Peter's shadow had fallen while chasing
Tinkerbell, so jealous
of Wendy, such rudeness.
Wendy sewed Peter's shadow back, Tinkerbell raging.
https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday 6-21-21: Solstice I
(posted by Frank J. Tassone)"Whether you are visiting the beach for the first day of summer, or building the first snowman of Winter, breathe in the Solstice air. Celebrate the day with an original haibun that alludes to the Solstice, whether Summer or Winter."
Wriggling my toes in the foam of the ocean
brought a sudden chill. First beach visit
of Summer, and the water felt blue-lip icy.
Before water reached my waist, I splashed into
the ocean. When I walked out to dry off,
I turned back, standing still as the sun overhead.
opened buttercup
fills with summer sunbeams
overflowing joy
https://dversepoets.com/
Written for: Poetic Bloomings - Prompt #339, Makes Sense"Today, we are addressing the idea of sense. There are the five senses and the organs that put them to work. There is dollars and “cents.” There are different scents in our daily lives, We can also address a sense of humor, a sense of decency, common sense, a sense for business, a sense of closeness and loss … or any other sense you know or make up. All these can be put into play in your poem. Put your poetic skills to work and let us sense your muse!"sent through summer breeze
the scent of perfumed jasmine
symbol of sweetness
https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
Written for: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #506Words: symbol, sign, history, end, onslaught, people, slide, pour,
drought, still, week, nightsDon't pour me no more,
slide out that door. You
are history. Mystery to
me how I didn't recognize
the signs of 'bad dude'
all through those nights,
now at an end. After
the onslaught of flowers
and gifts, you began
to drift, a symbol
of a non-keeper. After
a week you'd return
stinking like an old
still. People warned
me, but I was in a
deep drought, and thought
you would provide a way out.
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
Written for: Sunday Muse #165 (posted by Fireblossom)
Education. That's what
I need if I ever
hope to leave this
job, the boss that
comes with it, and
this godforsaken country.
Two choices of weather
here, rain or fog. I
wait in my assigned
spot for Mr. I Am
The Smartest. Permanent
case of the chilly-willies
snaking through my
clothing, and settling
in my bones. I try to
send most of my money
to Ma. The need is
great, so for now
I must keep this job.
Live in a rathole,
and probably eat
less than the rats.
It is all about education.
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub (posted by Grace)
Poetry Form: Trimeric1. Trimeric has 4 stanzas
2. The first stanza has 4 lines
3. The other three stanzas have 3 lines each
4. The first line of each stanza is a refrain of the corresponding
line in the first stanza (so 2nd stanza starts with the second
line, third stanza starts with the third line, etc.).
5. The sequence of lines, then, is abcd, b – -, c – -, d – -.
In meditation last night
we discussed forgiveness.
Some things are hard
to forgive, but you attain peace.
We discussed forgiveness,
uneasy topic for many
who hold steadfast grudges.
Some things are hard
to get out in the open
without the usual ensuing anger.
To forgive, you attain peace,
and that is a rarity.
Take the weight off your shoulders.
https://dversepoets.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub
Poetics: Exploring the Realm of Minimalist Photography
(posted by Sanaa)"Minimalist photography draws inspiration from the idea of minimalism in art, which emerged in New York in the early 1960’s.
‘Minimalism,’ is a movement in sculpture and painting which arose in the 1950s, characterized by the use of simple, massive forms. It’s marked by clarity, purpose and intention.
At its core, being a minimalist means intentionally promoting the things we value the most and removing everything that distracts us from it.
That being said, the goal of minimalist photography is to convey a concept, or an idea, to provoke an emotional response or provide a visual experience that is unique.
For today’s Poetics, I want you all to select one out of the twelve photographs shared above and write a poem. It can be an Ekphrastic poem, if you like. Go philosophical. Go dark or romantic or solemn. Share what you feel about Minimalist photography when you see it. The idea here is to provoke an emotion, and what better way to pour them out other than poetry?"
Old Rusty Truck – Photo by Glenn Buttkus
Lived a fine life with
various owners,
like Big Ted–easy-going,
hearty laugh. He ran
the local grocery store,
and polished me every
week. Ted's son used me
for a spell, than fancied
himself a newer model.
Jonas was my favorite.
A farmer, he took me
to all the markets. Jonas
and I loved this piece
of prairie. Retired now,
I rest my rusty carcass
on nice soft grasses.
Land stretches to infinity.
That's me! I lived
a good old life.
https://dversepoets.com/2021/06/15/poetics-exploring-the-realm-of-minimalist-photography/
Written for: Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #74: Painted Tales
(posted by Magaly)"Today’s prompt came to mind after I watched Girl with a Pearl Earring, a movie inspired by a novel which was inspired by a painting… Now, I’m inviting you to choose a painting and write new poetry or prose from the point of view of a character in said painting. Your contribution should include the painting or a link where others can look at it. Significantly rewritten pieces are welcomed."
~ Vincent Van Gogh
I weep on a pillowed chair,
barely warmed by a stingy
fire. All members of my
family passed on long
ago. My circle of friends–
how I miss their laughter
and companionship. Alas,
I have just said farewell
to my last friend. Old
age is a blue time
of aches, of loss,
of loneliness. I weep
for them all, and for myself
for living too long.
https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe
Tuesday Writing Prompt - "heaven in her eyes"
(posted by Devereaux and Beth)He coveted her from the start
bewitching woman blinded him,
for he knew not of her black heart.
He coveted her from the start.
In her eyes he saw heaven's stars,
so full of romanticism.
He coveted her from the start
bewitching woman blinded him.
https://godoggocafe.com/
Written for: The Twiglets #231 - "happy as grass"
I'm happy as grass
that never gets cut.
He was only happy
when smoking grass;
he was always happy.
i will be happy
little girl tells her mom
when I grow like grass
Little girl who was poorly behaved
was on picnic with others her age.
When time came to leave
she started to scream
'I'm staying on grass,' 'til snake bit her on the ass.
https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #130
(posted by Mish)"Today, I give you the word …..
“smudge”.
as a verb:
to cause (something) to become messily smeared by rubbing it.
noun:
a blurred or smeared mark on the surface of somethingBuild me a smudge-proof
house, where fingerprints
hide, and paw prints
do not smudge
glass doors. Upon
moving in, we saw
smudgy-pudgy finger
swipes in ice-pop hues
dotting refrigerator.
I’d love a dust-proof
house, but would settle
for smudge-proof.
https://dversepoets.com/
Written for: Poetic Bloomings, Prompt #338
"Hey, That's My Line" #5
"Take that “I wish I had written that” line from one of the poems posted at Poetic Bloomings, or of a poem you love, and for the moment, make it your own … as the title of a totally new poem. But, be sure to credit the poet and poem from which it came. Have fun!"
Unspooling like
an old reel of film,
my mind unravels
the words of Maggie May
by Rod Stewart. Husky
and rasping his voice
takes me back
to a time in my
twenties, when lover
was all I ever wanted
to be. I listened
to a lot of Rod Stewart.
Most people I know
associate music
they love with events
in their lives. I am
awaiting the next
tune to unwind.
(Line taken from Mike Bayles
for the prompt of hard and soft)
https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
Written for: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #505Words: game, shock, overshadowed, wicked, rock, fleeting,
sounds, stick, glass, sugar, hand, shots
Could use a shot
of bourbon
on the rocks
in a thick cut glass.
Hand me one, sugar,
would you? A wicked
time has passed. At
last we are less over-
shadowed by shock
over the fleetingness
of life. It is not
just a game. Now,
sounds sizzle in the streets,
shops welcome customers.Laughter is kiting to
the sky. Besides, I am weary
of suffocating in a mask
that sticks to my lips.
Bring me some chips,
and a shot of bourbon
on the rocks.
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
As I create
another vase,
I peer down
at my hands.
An intriguing web
of clay forms
patterns on my fingers,
art work more innovative
than my pots and vases.
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Written for: Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #73: Butterflies and Moths
(posted by Rommy)
Daylight welcomes
butterflies as they flit
from flower to flower–
monarchs mimicking
stained glass, white,
yellow, and the beautiful
blue morpho who makes
its home in the tropical
forests of Latin America.
A delicate dance
of wings brings joy
to mornings.
https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe (posted by Devereaux and Beth)
"Write a poem that uses the words, "weary", "nails", and
"mind control".Weary of being the subject
of his father's mind
control, he nailed a new
position on the opposite
coast, where he hoped
he was out of range.
https://godoggocafe.com/
Written for: The Twiglets #230 - "no rope"
I'd hang myself
but I have no rope.
As a child I loved
jumprope; thickness
of the cord gave
heft when turned.
No jumprope like that
now.
he spots the calf
frolicking in field
drops rope at his side
His life was that of a fisherman,
not an overly ambitious man.
Showed his son the ropes
but the kid could not cope
with rod, reel or smell of a river man.
https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
Written for: Poetic Bloomings - Prompt #337
Winnie The Pooh And The Boring Day"We want you to find poetry in the monotony of life. It could be a day that you manufactured yourself to get a break from something. Maybe you had no control and the boredom was thrust upon you. (Think of a pandemic of some kind – yes, use your imaginations). Make boredom interesting enough to read."It's much too hot
to find a spot
outdoors.
Ennui sets in
head does spin
with list of chores.
I could write, yeah
read my book, nah
or not wash floors.
But, it's much too hot
to care a jot
I'm simply bored.
https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
Written for: Sunday Muse #163You see me, hear me,
think my eyes are closed
to better concentrate
and feel this lovely
music. Oh yes, I am
a child prodigy, not
not a choice made by me.
In my mind I see kids
my age playing sports,
hanging out at someone's house
listening to all kinds
of music. Always, I hear
their laughter. This
instrument has become
my ball and chain. When
I could play when and where
I wanted, I had a normal
life. Now that is stifled,
and you cannot get time
back. You see me, hear
me, but there is another
behind closed eyes.
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe: Huitain poetry
Prompt by Donna MatthewsHere are the basic rules of the huitain:
8-line stanza
ababbcbc rhyme scheme
Usually 8 to 10 syllables per lineWe slowly step towards normalcy,
everyone looking for guidance.
Weary of life in dormancy,
in need of each other's kindness.
Open doors to laughter, end silence,
and loneliness; bring on the hugs.
Give needy people sustenance.
See the hope in Spring's flower buds.
https://godoggocafe.com/2021/06/02/masters-of-earth-by-donna-matthews/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub
Meeting The Bar: To turn again, about turn again
(posted by Laura Bloomsbury)“It is often remarked that if you are to read or repeat a word continually in a short period of time it seems odd or loses its meaning or sense altogether.” (Leo Cookman) 1
"Thus, one use of repetition in poetry is to dislodge the reader from preconceived ideas and meanings in order to hear the words, as if for the first time. Other poets seek to add a touch of musicality, especially with reiterative sound devices such as assonance and alliteration. Whilst word repetition is a way of being emphatic, dramatic even, to let the reader really hear and consider what is being said. Or perhaps to restate a theme as with the use of a Chorus or merely to round up the poem."
"Epiphora, from the Greek ‘to turn about/upon’, is used:-
To drive home a point
To make the words “catchy” or memorable
To express a deeply held belief
To convey strong emotion
To create a regular rhyme scheme
So today we shall write our poem using any style or meter as long as it contains:
1a. Epiphora (aka Epistrophe or Antistrophe). The end line repeats should for the most part be consecutive, although allowances are made for alternates as well as the use of the repeat word with variance. Employ repetitions with the maxim ‘ too often is too heavy’!
Walking down the street he takes care
by looking right and left and carefully
listening for sudden footsteps approaching.
Danger lurks 'round every corner. He cares
about the world and its people, so care-worn
from battling senseless violence.
Why the proliferation of guns? Don't people care
that death is all around them? That it could
be their daughter, son, mother, father, care-giver,
next? Why do guns remain on the street, easy to
purchase by felons, and the mentally ill not under care.
Too many memorials, and vigils–not enough caring.
https://dversepoets.com/
Written for: Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #72: unusual, uncommon, uncanny
(posted by Magaly)
"At this moment, for our 73rd Weekly Scribblings, I just wish to invite you to write poetry or prose which includes one (or all three) of the following words: unusual, uncommon, uncanny. You are welcomed to choose your own topic, genre, form… But your contribution must include at least one of the words."
He was an uncommon
breed of dog. Looking
like an upside-down mop
made him appear quite
unusual. With a uncanny
sense, I knew he would
win the contest.
https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub
Poetics: How to Cut a Pomegranate (posted by Kim)
"The challenge is to think of a fruit, how it looks before and after it has been cut open, and how it tastes. Think about where and how it grows, and what it makes you think of."
Mango–exotic name for a fruit
especially if you were growing up in Brooklyn. Dad's passion was mangos. Red and green ovals sat in bowls until deemed
ripe. Too soon, and the taste
will be sour. Too late,
and the fruit turns to mush. Do not be fooled by a mango's nondescript appearance. Cut through skin in sections. Peel each one, and you will have found gold. The center pit is large and long. Your challenge is to remove as much golden fruit as you can. Taste that juice, eat that fruit, and you will agree, the fuss is worth it.
https://dversepoets.com/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe (posted by Devereaux and Beth)
"Write a poem that ends with the word "key".Engrossed in fast-paced
mystery/thriller, she could
not guess who the killer was.
Red herrings popped up
in the story, some gory, but
who had blood on their hands?
As she neared the end wondering
when the culprit would be exposed,
a character of minor stature
proved guilty. In this puzzle,
she had missed the key.
https://godoggocafe.com/
Written for: The Twiglets #229 - cupped hands
She cups her hands
to gather
Spring showers.
Cupped hands
gather no moss.
sits at the stream
making small waves in water
with cupped hands
There was a man born with strange hands
At the ends of his wrists were cups, and
though he could not write
he was quite the sight
at water fountains and popcorn stands.
https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub
Quadrille #129: A Curiosity of Poems. (Posted by whimsygizmo)"Today, I want you to get curious. Let your curiosity get the best of your muse. I hope that you are curiously intrigued. Yes, for this week’s poem, take any form of the word curiosity you wish, and plant it firmly in your piece. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but today it’s going to build the poem. So open up your favorite curio cabinet of most fabulous words and phrases, and have a ball."
Sign read, CURIOSITIES. I was
curious enough to enter, and see
what they were.
Came across a carousel horse,
all alone. Too large for
my curio cabinet. Ruby red
glasses, pink teacups, and
old Coca Cola signs.
Was not curious enough
to keep browsing.
https://dversepoets.com/
Written for: Poetic Bloomings
Prompt #336 - Under The Moon of (--------)"Fill in the blank"Under the moon of dreams come true
you can stand when the moon is full.
Gaze 'til a face appears to you,
under the moon of dreams come true.
If you chance upon one that's blue
your dreams will happen on schedule.
Under the moon of dreams come true
you can stand when the moon is full.
https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
after deluge
water pools amidst stones
bird marvels at swimming moon
sees his body reflected
in both water and moonlight
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Written for: Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #91: Waiting (posted by Rosemary)"Write about waiting."You put off securing
an appointment. You call.
'There is no availability
for at least a month, but
you can always go to the
ER if you think it is
an emergency.'
Finally, your big day arrives.
You are on time, but perhaps
for someone else's appointment.
Waiting room is filled with
peeved patients–foot tappers,
magazine flippers, and pacers.
An hour goes by. They call
your name, like you are a
lottery winner. A perky
assistant ushers you into
a room cold enough
to store meat. After vitals
are taken, you are left,
bereft of covering except
for a flimsy cotton garment.
When the doctor deems
enough time has passed–half
an hour–she enters smiling.
Now you have forgotten
why you are there, and list
of pertinent questions
cannot be found. The doctor
doesn't mind, she's on
her computer anyway, back
turned.
https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub
Poetics: “Go Ahead, Make My Day” (posted by Mish)"We all have our favourite movies that have deeply impacted us with powerful images and of course, those catchy lines, dialogue that transcends beyond the screen. Many movie quotes have made their way into our daily conversation, advertisements and more recently, “memes”. They have moved us, made us laugh and made us cry. Withstanding the test of time, they reproduce the scene for us over and over to enjoy again and again. Some are simple, some are silly while others have become ingrained in our brains because of their brilliance. For whatever reason, they stick."
"So as you may have predicted, “your mission should you choose to accept it” is to select one of the movie quotes above and incorporate it into a poem of any style."
Lost and broke
in a new city.
Feet blistering
as I walk from one
job prospect to
another. Brother!
what a humid heat
beats in this town.
I frown. Have to get
off my feet, drink
something cool. Hunger
can wait until there are
more coins in my pocket.
Find a diner, slide onto
a red cracked vinyl stool
at the counter. 'Large
cherry coke, please' I say
to the harried waitress.
I sip as slowly as I can.
A well dressed, expensively
suited woman sits down beside me.
'Why honey,' she says, 'you
look ashen. Are you all
right?' Cue for my stomach
to rumble like a runaway
motorcycle.
We chat.
She urges me to order
some food. Humiliated,
I explain my situation.
She believes there is
a spot open in her company,
and invites me to stop in.
Against my protestations,
she buys me lunch. Did she
have a hunch about me?
Well, there is no one
in my family that will
help me out. That's why
I have always depended
on the kindness of
strangers. We walk out
arm in arm. I have hope.
(“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.”
– A Street Car Named Desire, 1951 –)
https://dversepoets.com/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe (posted by Devereaux and Beth)"Write a poem based upon this picture."
Casts hues of blues
over building
and river where ferry
boats dock, awaiting
passengers at end of
working day. Glaring
afternoon gold-rimmed
sun glitters off
grassy park where people
and dogs stroll.
Fugacious forms of clouds
drift slowly by.
https://godoggocafe.com/2021/05/25/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-tuesday-may-25-2021/
Written for: The Twiglets #228 - "deranged silence"
On a pitch black road
the car stutters,
shakes to a stop. Silence
ensues. She panics into
a state of derangement.
They called him deranged
because he was silent.
He had nothing to say.
silence engulfs lake
formerly deranged man listens
he is unused to quiet
A woman became quite deranged.
Doctors wondered at this sudden change.
They found she'd discovered
her husband and lover
on her bed in flagrant display.
https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday
Flower Moon (posted by Frank J. Tassone)"The Full Moon of May is known as Flower Moon to signify the flowers that bloom during this month. There is a myriad of wildflowers which bloom in May in the Northern Hemisphere, where these traditional Full Moon names originated. For example, many types of anemone, wild garlic, indigo, bluebells, lupine, sundrops, and violets, to name just a few. It is no wonder that the colorful displays these flowers create in nature have inspired people to name this time after them.""Write a moon haibun."I gaze at phases the moon provides from crescent
to full flower moon in May. Like a nanny,
the moon watches over its silver charges
bathed in its light.
Sometimes dark shadows appear on the face,
giving it a more somber appearance. Moon,
in any phase is always a welcome sight.
goslings under moon
ethereal birds reflected
pale shapes paddling
https://dversepoets.com/
Written for: One Woman's Quest II
VJ's Weekly Challenge
"Spend some time communing with trees."
Smooth bark,
elephant feet
planted firmly
on ancient roots
forming trails
underground. Little
pockets provide laps
to sit in. Bumps
and knots protrude
in irregular patterns
adorning the torso.
The tree stands
outside my living
room window, a giant
sycamore I have named
Sid.
https://onewomansquest.org/
Written for: Poetic Blooomings2
Prompt #335 - Soft and Hard"We’re working both sides of the street today and delving into the concepts of SOFT and HARD. We’ll write either into a poem. But to compound things further, you are to come up with a compound word highlighting either extreme. We’ll be doing a few of these exercises with different opposing ideas so this is just the beginning.
You ask, “What does Walt mean compound words!” Think of these few examples: Soft Cell, Feather Soft, Hard Sell, Hard Times, soft opening, hard headed… You get the picture."
He was a hard-boiled
detective. She was
soft silk stockings
that swished as
she walked. Talked
about the hard times
besetting her. He knew
he would do anything
to avoid upsetting her.
His steel blue eyes met
her liquid brown pools
like melted chocolate.
She was being harassed
by a hard-core stalker.
He walked her home to check
things out, see her safe.
After a couple of bourbons
on the rocks, he told her
he would take her case. What
else could a hard-boiled
detective do?
https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
Butterflies gravitate
towards pale blue
like my dress. They
know I will care
for them. Not put
them in a cage. Now
that you have released
them, I do hope
the butterflies will
forgive you, and your
washed out pink frock.
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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