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.
Poetry prompts created by the poets. If you want to be part of our group, just post a poem based on the prompt and comment on other people's poems.
Current rotation: Tad, Linda, Tasha, Vic...
I will be away most of the week, however I will see what I can do. Best to all!
ReplyDeleteI tried "...and her red hair lit the wall."
ReplyDeleteThe 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.
iron turns to rust
Deleteto trust in iron, is to trust in dust - nice one bonita. unexpected - love - paul.
Absolutely beautiful. Made me tear up.
DeleteOOOOH so beauiful and poignant!
DeleteMy mother once told me she didn't believe in God
ReplyDeleteshe 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?
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.
DeletePersonally I think she was hedging her bets. And it's "its gates" LOL
DeleteCurious 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.
DeleteDANGER....DANGER....SHE FOUND THE VODKA
ReplyDelete" 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.
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
Deleteindeed. 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.
DeleteHad to read it twice. I initially didn't realize "headafter" was a typo with no space. Thought it was a play on "hereafter." LOL
Deleteyeah. headafter should have a space and i spelled vodka wrong. distracted by library ladies and lack of time - love - paul.
DeleteInteresting poem. clever...
Deletethanks tash....I try - paul.
DeleteTALKING IT DOWN
ReplyDelete" 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.
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
DeleteI thought the "crazy" prompt would tempt you. Nice take on it.
Deletedon'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.
Deleteah, 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.
Deletecrazy like a fox tash. only way to survive around here - love and peace - paul.
DeleteA DANGEROUS RIDE
ReplyDeleteHis 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.
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.
Deletelove 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.
DeleteWhat a special poem and story! So vividly presented, too. WOW! He sounds like quite the rebel without a cause type.
DeleteA True Story
ReplyDeleteMy 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.
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.
DeleteLOL. 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!"
ReplyDeleteHa ha!!!
Deleteyes 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!
ReplyDeleteThanks!
Delete