From Writer's Digest PAD Challenge:
We’re now officially on the second half of this challenge. Let’s bring it for these last couple weeks.
For today’s prompt, take the phrase “The Last (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles could include: “The Last Cookie,” “The Last Roll of Toilet Paper,” “The Lasting Impression,” “The Last Word,” and/or “The Last Starfighter.”
I guarantee this won’t be the last prompt of the month. So get your poem on today, and I’ll see you again tomorrow.
Remember: These prompts are just springboards; you have the freedom to jump in any direction you want. In other words, it’s more important to write a new poem than to stick to the prompt.
the last memories
ReplyDeleteof home
leave me wistful
haunted and happy
Mom in the kitchen
baking cookies
while I watched
smells wafting
in clouds
around...surrounding
my existence
while weather emanated
summers past
Mom smiled that day
and acted
like she loved me
then...
I started on my journey
joining flows of life
when I was through
...home was
gone and
life would never
be the
same...
Intense. I like it. And of course it brings back my own memories too.
DeleteI think it could be cut back a little, but I like it.
DeleteTad, I re-read my poem and I did find about 4-5 lines I could have omitted but I like the words themselves so it would be like eliminating some friends...lol
DeleteA wistful poem. I liked it. I think part of the growing up and appreciating the past would be missed if anything was taken out.
DeleteLoved the images,crisp and evocative.
DeleteThe last day
ReplyDeleteof the old normal
a month ago,
even then it teetered
on the edge.
Sit on the knife edge,
freedom or life.
Is it tyranny to
quarantine,
restrict your world view?
Old, with asthma,
I want to make it but
not live with
police enforcement
to keep me home.
But if I isolate
Sarah who
delivers the mail
or Jack who packs
groceries for pick up
could have been
at the bar last night,
with that one guy
who was coughing, who looked
hot and red.
The last person on
earth can proclaim
independence to spread
the virus
until they all died.
Powerful.
DeleteWOW!! This is awesome and so much all my own thoughts! I'm old with asthma too!! Your last stanza is very profound...I really like this.
DeleteOn the knife’s edge for sure!
DeletePowerful! I agree. My thought: you don't need the last verse. Of course it's a great verse, however it seems to me that the poem ends better with the previous one. (I'm working to catch up here. Sorry for the absence. Busy days!
DeleteIt expressed so well that feeling of kind of holding our breath hoping not to fall on that knife. It's a tricky time.
DeleteIs it OK if I post two? I knew I had one with exactly this theme -- "The Last Song." But when I went to look for it, I found another "Last" poem right after it. And I save my poems chronologically, so they were written in this order.
ReplyDeleteThe last song of the women
which came through tight-closed doors,
barred and shuttered windows,
lost itself in the shadows
of deciduous old growth trees,
and afterwards he could never
remember the melody,
though often it recreated
itself in a windblown phrase
or a few notes idly plucked
by an old bluesman relaxing
between sets in a roadhouse
never quite coalescing
into a riff. By then
he was older, all music heard dimly,
all doors and windows tight shut.
LAST KNOWN RESIDENCE
Authorities
have yet to determine
his last known residence
His clothes were worn, but
not threadbare. Clean,
but they'd been slept in.
Near his hand was a book
by Philip Levine,
What Work Is.
He was almost touching it,
as if he'd wanted
to read it one more time.
The last song of the women - is it about how the mind gets filled with so much over time that its hard to remember things?
DeleteI like both of them.
The first poem left me with a mournful, melancholy feeling. It read very smoothly and I enjoyed it very much.
DeleteThe second was mysterious and story like and I wanted to know MORE...lol good job!
Well you obviously CAN post two poems since you didn't ask for an answer. LOL. I love the 2nd one best. Especially since it mentions "What Work Is" which is one of my all time favorite poetry books.
DeleteSue - I don’t always have a clear idea of what a poem is going to be about. Sometimes, as with this one, i’ll start with a phrase that seems to promise something, and then let it find its own way. So I had to read it over with your question in mind, and I think yeah, that is what it’s about. About those things you know are important - not important on a large scale, but important to you - and that you can’t quite hold onto. And maybe there’s a reason for that, too. This guy seems to end by losing that important memory completely, but in the end we lose all memories completely, don’t we? And having that elusive memory allows him to let other things in.
DeleteBoth poems good, no favorites. Two stories...or is it one? Hard to tell...
DeleteVery expressive with all the poignant hdetail. Been feeling almost gone right as I read this. And both of these touch that. All the best Tad.
DeleteThe Last Thought
ReplyDeleteBed
is where
I lay me down
to sleep. My thoughts need to be
laid down. This is where I fall.
Cold.
Blanket
on. Blanket off
tossing turning. Thoughts they come
warm then cold. Drifting off soon
Sleep
Good nights
are blessed with lots
of sleep. The last worried thought
is lost to the emptiness
(The last two lines can be read into each other by finishing the last line with the line before it.)
I enjoy your structure. It works well with the building of your idea. I like the last stanza the best. The last two lines leave me with a restful feeling.
DeleteI like the structure too, but I'd like to see you do something else. Pick a big zip code, like Sebastopol, CA. - 95472.
DeleteI'm with Victoria here, be bold! You could play around with or experiment more with your ideas.
DeleteThank you ladies. I will break my prefabricated mold. This is my first time experiencing writing poems and sharing. I wrote sappy stuff in high school. Nothing since. Certainly nothing shared. I will dip my toes deeper.
DeleteI do the same thing with my electric blanket. I can really relate to this.
ReplyDeleteLasting
ReplyDeleteWill I last?
at least until I have
finished my story
or will I leave before it ends?
Is my end the real end?
Or is it only a chapter's end?
Not sure, of the answer...yet.
I'll tell you when I am.
I think this might be a seed poem to be played with later...
ReplyDeleteOh I like this. It wraps around making you want to know more.
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ReplyDelete