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.
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Sunday, June 14, 2020
A Different Dimension
From Linda:
Imagine you, but in a completely different life based on making a different decision that impacted everything else. A different dimension or different reality.
the machine kicked on they were off in time two brothers and supplies the machine went wild as everything whirled and started to spin real hard and earth was new where they crashed Well, they had cache and gadgets, they had many they were stuck but would survive! they set up camp made a home with books and and blankets for beds they had survival food, plus, weapons for the hunt one day while they were gardening making things look nice visitors came from nowhere 4 rough looking women there with squinty eyes for them they wandered in they were curious here and there touching this and that garbled speech and squawks of awe came from the smelly babes so one gave another a bar of soap and showed her how to use it oh! and lighters , they had plenty!! the women walked away with things to take back to the village life became easier with lighters and nicer with bars of soap...
This whole thing is good as a reminiscence, as a personal essay. As a poem, it doesn't need the last stanza. Don't put anything into a poem that the reader will understand anyway, if it's not there.
Endless games of tennis, hockey, football, watching, fearful of loss. Endless fast food meals on trips to tournaments— long boring rides to and fro. Being a good wife and mother, in the eyes of the world, melting inside desperate. Maybe a movie once in a while— violent, gory conflicts, Maybe a business trip and a nice hotel, somewhere, yet no time just for us, intimacy too, fading away. And I drowning in regret, remorseful, depressed, dwindling.
This prompt really pulled the emotions out of us! I felt this as I read through it. We don’t always want stability and regularity. I feel selfish sometimes knowing I enjoy my lonely life.
I love this as a personal essay, but it still feels more like prose chopped up into lines than a poem. Trying to figure out why. I think maybe too much exposition. It's important to remember that a poem is something you make - the word "poet" comes from the Greek word for "maker." So if you get too wrapped up in making sure the reader gets it, something gets lost. It's the same thing I said to Victoria -- if the reader will get it without your putting it in, don't put it in. You don't need to tell us you could feel it, in the first stanza. You don't really need a whole stanza to say what's in the second stanza. Sometimes as poets we need to get out of ourselves. Don't go inside and tell what you were feeling, go outside and tell what was happening outside the car window, or what the car seat felt like or what the interior of the car smelled like. If you can make us be there,we'll know what you felt. As the poem moves on, the path of yes, the path of no, it starts to get really good.
in the beginning...
ReplyDeletethe machine kicked on
they were off in time
two brothers and supplies
the machine went wild
as everything whirled
and started to spin real hard
and earth was new
where they crashed
Well, they had cache
and gadgets, they had many
they were stuck but
would survive!
they set up camp
made a home
with books and
and blankets for beds
they had survival food,
plus, weapons for the hunt
one day while they
were gardening
making things look nice
visitors came from nowhere
4 rough looking women there
with squinty eyes for them
they wandered in
they were curious here and there
touching this and that
garbled speech and squawks of awe
came from the smelly babes
so one gave another a bar of soap
and showed her how to use it
oh! and lighters , they had plenty!!
the women walked away with things
to take back to the village
life became easier with lighters
and nicer with bars of soap...
A curious sci fi tale indeed! interesting, too.
DeleteAs Tasha said, interesting tale? Is it time travel or space travel?
DeleteFire and soapy water. The basics! I love that the women were given this power!
DeleteI like it. Unexpected ending.
ReplyDeleteROADS NOT TAKEN
ReplyDeleteGoing south with
Wendy Jones
to collect folk songs
that summer instead of
getting married
ditching my
deadbeat partners and
going with the guy from
Hollywood and
getting my
movie made in Puerto
Rico or camping at
the Brill Building
till they heard
me gave me a shot
could have written hit songs
had a movie
played music
with Doc Watson and
Merle but could I ever
have wanted a
life without
my three daughters my
eight grandchildren most of
all without Pat?
Liked the ending especially,, and a very interesting set of circumstances.
DeleteLOL. We kinda took the same tack on this. I'm glad you took the path you did.
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteAwwww. Love this.
DeleteAccidental delete.
DeleteWhat if I had...
ReplyDelete1969
gone to Woodstock with the boy
whose name I don't remember.
Watched out my bedroom window
but he got caught by his dad.
1971
married a factory man,
coworker of my father's,
like he wanted. Not gone on
to college, like I wanted.
1973
taken the job the Air Force
offered me learning Russian
in California. I turned
it down because I was scared.
1974
said no when Terry asked me
to marry him for the 10th time.
I really didn't want to
get married, it just slipped out.
1980
taken the job with Bell Labs,
which wanted me to go to
grad school first. I had two small
children. I wanted money.
over and over
turning points where I wonder
who I would be? Would I be
me? What would would have happened if
I had taken different paths?
Nicely done, so many turning points...a regular top you were!
DeleteI am glad I didn’t read all these before I did mine. I too went down the what if road.
DeleteAlso I agree with Tad. The title sets up not needing an end.
DeleteThis whole thing is good as a reminiscence, as a personal essay. As a poem, it doesn't need the last stanza. Don't put anything into a poem that the reader will understand anyway, if it's not there.
ReplyDeleteI know, but I couldn't figure out how to end it. I felt like I should have kept going up to present. LOL.
DeleteIf I had stayed
ReplyDeleteEndless games of tennis, hockey,
football, watching, fearful of loss.
Endless fast food meals
on trips to tournaments—
long boring rides to and fro.
Being a good wife and mother,
in the eyes of the world,
melting inside desperate.
Maybe a movie once in a while—
violent, gory conflicts,
Maybe a business trip and
a nice hotel, somewhere,
yet no time just for us,
intimacy too, fading away.
And I drowning in regret,
remorseful, depressed, dwindling.
Beautifully sad.
DeleteAn honest poem--a bit raw, yet honest.
DeleteThis prompt really pulled the emotions out of us! I felt this as I read through it. We don’t always want stability and regularity. I feel selfish sometimes knowing I enjoy my lonely life.
DeleteCatching up. Sorry for the delay.
ReplyDeleteConsent
That day
I could feel it
Time slowed as we rolled across
the parking lot
arguing in the car after work.
The day had ended
but so was our relationship.
I was scared of the future
with you and the constant
confusing fights.
He asked. He actually said
“Are you breaking
up with me?”
I had the power and the desire.
Just say it. Say yes.
But as I said, time slowed
The air froze-
the silence
My body took in all the
messages from beyond.
As I looked down upon
my body in the car,
as I saw myself
as a passenger,
my life took the path.
The path of yes.
In an instant I lost
a stepson, a child
a marriage and divorce.
A lifetime of chaos.
The path of no
led me toward a life
like no other.
Overlapping with odd similarities.
A life I couldn’t have imagined.
Because fate and life lessons
will still unfold
with or without your consent.
What will you say?
Yes or no?
I wrote a long reply and it disappeared. As soon as I get over my frustration I'll try again. I like many things about this, have some reservations.
DeleteI love this as a personal essay, but it still feels more like prose chopped up into lines than a poem. Trying to figure out why.
DeleteI think maybe too much exposition. It's important to remember that a poem is something you make - the word "poet" comes from the Greek word for "maker." So if you get too wrapped up in making sure the reader gets it, something gets lost. It's the same thing I said to Victoria -- if the reader will get it without your putting it in, don't put it in. You don't need to tell us you could feel it, in the first stanza. You don't really need a whole stanza to say what's in the second stanza.
Sometimes as poets we need to get out of ourselves. Don't go inside and tell what you were feeling, go outside and tell what was happening outside the car window, or what the car seat felt like or what the interior of the car smelled like. If you can make us be there,we'll know what you felt.
As the poem moves on, the path of yes, the path of no, it starts to get really good.