From Robert Lee Brewer:
For today’s prompt, pick an object (any object), make it the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles could include: “Toothbrush,” “Rake,” “Pilot G2 Premium Gel Roller Pen,” or any number of other objective titles. Have fun with it.
Hands
ReplyDeleteI hold your hand
soft and small
comfort
peace
all live there
in your palm
clasped within
your fingers grasp.
I hold your hand
cold and small
death
anger
linger there
hate survives
all hope died
within your grasp.
Wow. Very haunting. And this would have worked for the life/death prompt too. I think that's the problem I'm having with the prompts this year. They are too damn general. I need the restrictions to put something together.
Deletethis is so touching and beautiful!! I love it!
DeleteI hope this is not a true poem but instead an expression. Whichever it is it is very well done.
DeleteI have an old "kid poem" I'm going to share also, but decided I needed to write a new one first. It's pretty rough but at least I wrote something:
ReplyDeleteMy mother is so very mean,
She will not buy me what I want
It looked so cool there on the screen
I think I'll call and ask my aunt
if she will buy it. I'll make noise!
But mom won't let me use her phone.
I say it's good for girls and boys,
She says to buy it when I'm grown
and have a job so I can pay
and think about my choices made,
I know I need this, so I say,
I can wait till you get paid.
My mother laughs! She is so mean!
She says it's no, no matter when.
But it's the greatest thing I've seen.
I just want one, not nine or ten.
I know I've lost and start to cry
but mom just shakes her head at me
and laughs and says, I will not buy.
a 90 inch flat screen tv.
lmbo!!!! this is hilarious! Thanks for my first chuckle of the day! The rhyme and rhythm were great!!
Deleteyep made me laugh too. i always love your children's poems. you seem to write from the child's point of view and they never sound like an adult trying to sound like a child.
DeleteReally cute!
DeleteA Rose
ReplyDeleteI laid a rose
upon your grave
a tear fell
from my eye
I remembered
things from
long ago...
I remembered
you brought me
one golden rose
on our first date
I remember you
gave me one
golden rose
each year
for my birthday
so today
for no reason
I laid a
golden rose
upon your grave
because I was
thinking of you
very sweet and sentimental.lovely write.
DeleteWow, you guys are into sad poems for today!!! Nicely done. The only problem I had was you might want to mention golden right off because I immediately imagined red when you said rose in the first stanza.
DeleteSad and lovely too. Is it a true one or a made up one?
DeleteCan you guys believe it's day 21 already?
ReplyDeleteI know. I was thinking the same thing when I made the post this morning. Almost down the final week!
Deleteno I can't!!! We have been very diligent and faithful to this cause!!! I am proud of us all!!!
ReplyDeleteHere's my old one.
ReplyDeleteTHAT’S THE WAY THE BALL BOUNCES
The ball bounces.
Bonnie’s right hand, splay-fingered, flutters up and down
keeps rhythm, ball hits cracked cement, tap, slap, tap, slap,
Her left hand clutches a book as the right bounces.
Reading wins, Bonnie’s eyes intent on the story.
The ball arcs smaller, smaller, rolls downhill, hits rock.
The ball bounces
to Alice’s house. Her friend Georgie catches it,
bounces it against the chimney. One, two, three, four.
Try this! Hit the ground, ricochet, hit the chimney.
Throw the ball under your leg. See who misses first.
Alice wins. They abandon the ball for Barbies.
The ball bounces
down the street. Joe and Hank kick it as they amble
to the park. The ball trails after. They pick it up,
play hot potato, faster, faster, race, throw it
backforthbackforth till they reach their destination,
drop the ball, run off to play on the monkey bars.
The ball bounces
to Baby Scott nearby. Scottie and mommy roll
the ball back and forth, laugh, notice the boys are gone.
Carry the ball in Scott's stroller back to Joey’s house,
but it falls too soon, rolls to a house, right under
Bonnie’s empty right hand which moves idly up, down
the ball bounces.
I love this one! it always makes me laugh and reminds me how mom would get mad at me for talking on the phone and reading a book at the same time... lol!!
ReplyDeletevery visual poem. It made me smile. I read it several times to get the true taste of it.
ReplyDeleteTuning Fork
ReplyDeleteStruck tuning forks resonate
Length plus thickness equals note.
I am a tuning fork; I resonate
to my sensed truth.
When I am out of tune
I breathe and quiet myself.
To know one's own sound
is to be attuned to one's soul
and to find instinctively
the pole star within.
I am a tuning fork for myself.
My truth resonates.
there's nothing wrong with using an old one once in awhile. This one is cute and I enjoyed it very much.
DeleteI love the metaphor of you as a tuning fork. Nice poem.
DeleteShame on me, I thought and thought and still couldn't come up with anything original so here is an old one that I rather like. But wait...Maybe a Haiku...
ReplyDeleteI find no shame in posting an old poem and hope you are not implying that the rest of us should feel shame when we do that. Lives do not always leave time for a daily poem.
DeleteTree
ReplyDeleteStanding silently
sentinel of the seasons
changing uniform.
nicely done. enjoyed!
DeleteLove this. So much said in so few words, and a genuine haiku, i.e. about nature with a seasonal reference!
DeleteMy go to form for a quick entry yet again.
ReplyDelete