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Thursday, April 21, 2016

Day 21

For today’s prompt, write a poem that responds (or somehow communicates) with another poem. You can respond to any poem. If you’re having trouble figuring out which one, choose a poem from [the] list of poems from collections [he's] been reading this month, posted in Robert Lee Brewer's original post.
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8 comments :

  1. VictoriaApril 21, 2016 at 11:08 AM

    A RESPONSE TO THE RED WHEELBARROW BY WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS

    You left the wheelbarrow
    out in the rain again.

    It’s going to rust
    you know.

    And why are the chickens
    not in the coop?

    Get off your writing ass
    and get to work.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Bonnie JohnsonApril 22, 2016 at 5:21 AM

      yep! you nailed this one! lol!

      Delete
    2. AnonymousApril 27, 2016 at 8:25 AM

      Except for the fact that I was planning to do this one, and except for the fact that I think you did a better response than what I had in mind - I love it!

      Delete
  2. TashaApril 21, 2016 at 7:05 PM

    This is a hoot!I always wondered what that poem was about and why everyone liked it so much. You really burst taht balloon nicely. Thanks!

    ReplyDelete
  3. TashaApril 21, 2016 at 7:06 PM

    Here is my poem, written for Epilogue, by Robert Browning. If you like I can quoe the poem, or you can look it up. Let me know.

    For Epilogue,
    a Simple Truth by Robert Browning

    This, his final poem,
    has always seemed to me
    a special way to see life's end
    as both an ending and
    as another beginning,
    to another life.

    Thus as I wend my ways
    through my latter days
    it echoes ever truer.
    I look back and see the me
    I have become and know
    so will I ever be .
    Tasha halpert

    ReplyDelete
  4. MarApril 28, 2016 at 1:53 PM

    This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  5. MarApril 28, 2016 at 2:03 PM

    April 2016 Poem A Day #21 Not going anywhere
    The prompt today was to write a poem to another poem. So, growing up there was a picture in hall of a little boy sitting under a tree on a hilltop, fishing pole near, schoolhouse in the far distance. Under the picture was a poem expressing a wish not to be bothered doing so much but to rest a thousand years. I read it over and over, through many years. I thought of it whenever I was stressed. But all in all it was a bad direction to take!

    Not going anywhere
    .
    He wished to be
    a little rock
    not off to work
    not deep in hock
    .
    He wished to sit so very still
    in wind and sun
    on crest of hill
    beneath a tree
    without a thrill
    .
    I think he rested
    far to long
    his influence on me
    far too strong
    .
    I dreamed and dreamed
    without a peep
    I sat too long
    whilst thinking deep
    .
    I spent my life
    all half asleep.

    ReplyDelete

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