Search This Blog

Sunday, August 26, 2018

A Week's Worth of Prompts

I haven't done this in a while, and I'm fresh out of ideas today, so here are this week's prompts from "A Writer's Book of Days." Pick one or more.

PLEASE NOTE: The limit of poems for the prompts is still a TOTAL of two poems.

Aug 26 -- Write about what has yet to happen.
Aug 27 -- You are in the backyard.
Aug 28 -- Write about a dangerous ride.
Aug 29 -- My mother once told me ...
Aug 30 -- " ... and her red hair lit the wall." (after Victor Hugo)
Aug 31 -- "It's my belief we're all crazy." (after Trudy, the bag lady.
Sep 1 -- Write a December memory.

32 comments :

  1. I will be away most of the week, however I will see what I can do. Best to all!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I tried "...and her red hair lit the wall."

    The lights are different now
    dimmer somehow over the years
    eyes that once saw brilliant
    reds and oranges and greens
    now see colors dull dry as dust
    uninteresting and monotonous

    time moves faster yet somehow slower
    feet that once ran now slog
    in a slow shuffle that almost
    seems as if you don't move at all
    your pace slackens as time races
    until you see only blurs of the past.

    you sit in a restaurant - order food
    you know will be tasteless and dull
    the only joy you have is the woman
    who sits the table across from you
    young and vibrant as you once were
    you notice her red hair lit the wall.


    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. iron turns to rust
      to trust in iron, is to trust in dust - nice one bonita. unexpected - love - paul.

      Delete
    2. Absolutely beautiful. Made me tear up.

      Delete
    3. OOOOH so beauiful and poignant!

      Delete
  3. My mother once told me she didn't believe in God
    she only pretended to not fight with my father
    who did believe and wanted her to go to heaven
    but she didn't believe there was a heaven or a hell

    my father said his rosary every day when he got old
    we said he was preparing for his finals
    praying his way into a heaven we weren't sure
    existed or would open it's gates for him if it did

    my mother went to church even after my father died
    made me wonder if she lied when she said she didn't believe
    she took communion and said her rosary so I wonder why did
    my mother once tell me she didn't believe in God?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. very moving bonita. if i ever meet this god guy we are gonna have harsh words over certain events. see my poem " punching god in the face " - i like a church. you don't have to believe to go there - love - paul.

      Delete
    2. Personally I think she was hedging her bets. And it's "its gates" LOL

      Delete
    3. Curious question and interesting poem. I liked it a lot and wonder the same, though maybe she said it o annoy him! or to tease him.

      Delete
  4. DANGER....DANGER....SHE FOUND THE VODKA

    " 90 miles an hour is the speed i drive " - crosstown traffic - jimi hendrix.

    a rollercoaster of a girl
    one minute she's up
    next minute she's in a twirl
    she should have danger
    tattooed on her headafter the vodks cup she doth sup
    after a dangerous journey, she becomes a stranger
    always masked, like the lone ranger
    though not quite so dangerous, when well fed

    but like gremlins don't feed her after midnight
    or she'll bite and scratch and fight.

    this was straight up on the screen. it was some stupid national holiday yesterday and everywhere was shut. i'll try another subject soon. bribed the library ladies with strawberries, so i'll be here all day.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I know what you mean about people we thought we knew becoming strangers... whatever journey they take they are never the person we thought they were

      Delete
    2. indeed. there was me thinking she was an angel and she turned out to be the devil.....i'm good at that sort of thing - love and peace - paul.

      Delete
    3. Had to read it twice. I initially didn't realize "headafter" was a typo with no space. Thought it was a play on "hereafter." LOL

      Delete
    4. yeah. headafter should have a space and i spelled vodka wrong. distracted by library ladies and lack of time - love - paul.

      Delete
    5. Interesting poem. clever...

      Delete
    6. thanks tash....I try - paul.

      Delete
  5. TALKING IT DOWN

    " still crazy after all these years " - paul simon.

    ya know people say " that woman's gonna drive me crazy!"
    proper crazy, that made me mad drunk and lazy

    i never let on, but when she left
    i died inside
    like going down a razor blade slide
    all that was left was the love of the bereft.

    thanks for reading everyone - love - paul.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. everybody is crazy and stupid around here bonita. i think it's compulsory. i told you about mary jane jones didn't i? possibly the craziest creature to ever walk the planet....yep! i lived with her - stay cool kid - love paul

      Delete
    2. I thought the "crazy" prompt would tempt you. Nice take on it.

      Delete
    3. don't know whether to take that as a compliment, or an insult vic ha ha. aawwww all poets are crazy. i was performing on tuesday night....surprised i didn't get arrested, or lynched. joined a band on stage with my harmonica..uh - oh! - love and bob dylan songs - paul.

      Delete
    4. ah, you do have a way with women and they have a way with you, eh? Being crazy is sometimes and art and you do well at it.

      Delete
    5. crazy like a fox tash. only way to survive around here - love and peace - paul.

      Delete
  6. A DANGEROUS RIDE

    His name was Jinx. Adorned in leather
    jacket, heavy with chains that rattled
    as his biker boots clicked hard on pavement.
    To my 15-year-old eyes, sexy.
    I wanted to ride on his Harley,

    imagined my 15-year-old arms
    surrounding his leather jacket, chains,
    legs tight behind his, motorcycle
    vibrating pavement, bodies, as it
    zoomed into the sunset of romance.

    Halter top, hot pants, 15-year-old
    tits, wishes were easily granted.
    Breathless, straddled behind Jinx, engine
    noise filled ears, up Peach Street to the zoo.
    Into the park, onto the dirt path.

    Breaths came hard, eyes closed against debris--
    dirt, gravel that swirled hard around us.
    My heart stopped when I opened them, saw
    the playground entrance. I knew what loomed,
    walked down the seven steps many times.

    Going too fast to process my fear,
    airborne for seconds, sure I was dead,
    we landed, skidded, stayed upright, screamed,
    me with terror, Jinx with rabid joy.
    He laughed as I wanted off the bike.

    It struck me in that one moment
    that maybe Jinx had earned his nickname.
    After that I admired the Harley
    from a distance, became a lover
    of round, sedate Volkswagen beetles.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. dangerous things can be very tempting Victoria. a woman called sammie springs to mind. the most dangerous creature in the world. I fell off the back of a motorbike when I was fifteen. luckily I was too drunk to care ha ha - love and peace - paul.

      Delete
    2. love it! felt all the excitement and fear right along with you and that last line made me literally lol! love it! you captured the moment wonderfully.

      Delete
    3. What a special poem and story! So vividly presented, too. WOW! He sounds like quite the rebel without a cause type.

      Delete
  7. A True Story

    My Mama done told me, what I ought to do
    and I tried to behave like she told me, it's true,
    but somehow it didn't work out in the end
    and I made my own way with the help of a friend.

    My mamma she thought she most surely did know
    the best way to do things, best places to go
    but I couldn't follow, however I tried
    and sometimes it made me feel awful inside..

    My way was not hers, though it took me some time
    to figure it out and then let my light shine.
    So let me advise you to make your own way
    nor mind what your mama might actually say.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. mostly my mother said to me " will you turn that bloody music down!! " and " what are you wasting your time reading books for? " uh - hu! - love - paul.

      Delete
  8. LOL. You should always listen to your mother! You just don't have agree with her. Reminds me of a conversation in "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy." It went something like this. Arthur Dent says, "It's times like these that I wish I'd listened to what my mother said." Ford Prefect says, "Why? What did your mother say?" Arthur says, "I DON'T KNOW! I DIDN'T LISTEN!"

    ReplyDelete
  9. yes we all have to find our own way and it generally isn't what our parents planned for us. yes, listen to them but make your own choices. every once in awhile I hear my parents speaking through me and go omg! I turned into my mother... or my father... lol... fun poem!

    ReplyDelete