Little Acorns

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Little (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 include: “Little Guy,” “Little Richard,” “Little Mermaid,” “Little Italy,” and “Little Words That Pack a Big Punch.” I think if you think about it for a little bit, you’ll find a big (or little) poem to write.

Little Acorns

From little pignuts,
mighty hickories grow.
That’s not as poetic
as the original
but there weren’t a lot of oaks
where I was a boy.

We had untold pignuts
crunching underfoot.
Being little boys
we’d fight, whipping
those little green projectiles
as fast as possible,
despite the maternal warning:

You’ll put someone’s eye out.

We did our best
and nearly succeeded.
Kenny didn’t scream
or even cry ouch.
He just stood up
and walked inside
holding his left eye.

He was fine
after a few days
wearing a white patch.

If they’d given him a black
one, we could’ve played pirates.

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The Visit

For today’s prompt, write a reason poem. If this prompt seems unreasonable, just remember all the reasons you write poetry or enjoy cooking, dancing, singing, etc. Or provide a reasoned argument for your lack of reason. Only you know your reasons.

The Visit
for M.C.

You came back home
a few days after
you were dead.

I woke up to the sound
of you charging
through the house,
hunting phantom mice
like when you were young
and could leap
to the top of the armoire
as easily as lapping milk
from a saucer.

Even in my barely awake state
I knew something was wrong.
I spoke aloud,
“There shouldn’t be any cats in this house.”
then heard you charging up the stairs
like all those pre-dawns
when you’d lie in wait
to pounce the moment I stirred.

You jumped into bed,
happy mrowling,
bouncing higher
and higher
then you were gone.

Of course, it wasn’t you.
You hadn’t been anywhere
since that final
visit to the vet.
It’s reasonable to assume
that my sorrow conjured
you back in a dream.

I can both know it wasn’t real
and still take comfort from your visit.
Your ghost, my grief,
these dreams and memories,
they’re all in my head.

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Time for our third Two for Tuesday of the month! Pick one prompt or use both…your choice!

  • Write a catch poem. Catch a cold, a ball, a fish, or someone’s eye.
  • Write a release poem. Release your anger, a ball, a fish, or someone’s head (from a head lock while wrestling, of course).


I’ve cast my line
into the pond of inspiration
every day this April,
bait provided by Brewer.

Some days I get a soggy shoe,
other times a plastic bag
but eventually a nibble
to reel in with hope.

Most of the poems
I find on the hook
are minnows, doggerel,
best thrown back

but sometimes I catch
a real beauty, shiny
and fat which I clean,
gut and grill then leave

on the shore to nourish
the next passerby.

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For today’s prompt, write a prediction poem. Make a prediction. Write about another person’s correct or incorrect prediction. Or, you know, be unpredictable.


The sun will rise tomorrow.

The days will grow ever longer
for another two months or so
then they will shrink.

Men will fall in love
despite their best efforts.
They will try to hide
their feelings or deny
them or laugh them off
as a childish crush
but men will fall in love.

Eight months or so from now
there will be dark days.
The sun will abandon
us for Southern climes
and men will wonder
if they should have said
something to you.

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For today’s prompt, pick a state (or province, territory, etc.), make it the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. A few possibilities include New York, California, Ontario, Bavaria, and Champagne. It goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway: Feel free to bend this in any direction you wish.


Across the board room conference table
there were plate glass windows
and the Rocky Mountains.

My hosts made sure I sat
on the east so my view
was distracting.

Worse, the day was clear and the air thin
so I could see each flake in the snow caps
and each boulder on the slopes.

I grew up in Ohio
and while we share
the big open vowel,

my hometown flatlands
did not prepare me
for this majesty.

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Half the Universe

For today’s prompt, write a view poem. Wherever you’re at, you have a view: maybe of a river or sunset. Maybe of a cubicle or a copy machine. Even the blind have a view of darkness, nothingness, or some other -ness. And that’s just being literal, because everyone has views on sports, politics, poetry, etc.

Half the Universe

I want cloudy mornings,
foggy and solemn
to ease my waking.

If the afternoon is sunny,
comfort me with steadfast trees,
dripping green leaves.

But once the burning sun has set,
let the wind wipe the clouds
from the sky and blow down
those trees blocking my view.

I will watch the stars
as they spin ’round Polaris
and the planets wander the Zodiac.
I will lie down with the Moon,
cling to the Earth
and observe half the universe.

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The Art of The Fudge

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “The Art of (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 include: “The Art of Writing,” “The Art of Painting,” “The Art of Showing Up to Parties Fashionably Late,” and/or “The Art of Being Awesome.”


The Art of The Fudge

When the pans
are bubbling
and you find
too little milk
in the carton,

call it poetic license
to steal water
from the tap,
add extra butter
and hope,

hope the centre
and the fudge
can hold.

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For a Little Black Dress

For today’s prompt, write a dedication poem. This is a poem dedicated to a person, an animal, or an organization. Or hey, objects work too–like a poem to a rock or paper bag. Put the dedication in the title or in a line under the title (“for Mother” or “to the heart-shaped rock between the creek and the tulips”). I dedicate today’s prompt to all of you!

For a Little Black Dress

The way you drape
yourself over her form
at the fancy dinner party
my hands envy your job
clinging to her skin
squeezing all the soft places

Flowing like dark wine from her hair
your folds and creases accentuate
all her natural arcs and ellipses

I’ll find any excuse
to leave early – skip dessert
slide my fingers under your fabric
on the dangerous drive home
until I usurp your position
and cover her body with mine

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Self Portrait

For today’s prompt, write a lone poem. Perhaps the poem is about a solitary wanderer or person who just prefers to go it alone. Or a lone winner, lone wolf, or some other solo individual. Or alternatively, I’ll accept poems that are about loans or that are about being alone.

Self Portrait

Just one light in the midnight
shining on a cluttered desk
some music — a cello
or piano barely audible
above the rain falling

No frantic television
no random children
no nagging wife
not even a bored dog
to disturb the work

He drinks alone
a silent prayer
to his distant muse
for inspiration
before the dawn

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Grocery Shopping

Time for our second Two for Tuesday of the month! Pick one prompt or use both…your choice!

  • Write a love poem. All you need is love.
  • Write an anti-love poem. Or not.

Remember: There are many forms of love: romantic love, friend and family love, love of being alive, etc.



Grocery Shopping

I love grocery shopping
in a strange land
and not buying a thing.

I’ve been inoculated
to the whorish marketing
I see around town

but drop me in a foreign
city and I’m a sugar-buzzed
boy in the cereal aisle.

New! really means new
and I allow the bright colors
to attract my wandering eye.

If I can’t read like the locals
it’s even more exciting.
Show me baby riding a bear

over a word I can’t pronounce
or symbols I can’t fathom
and I’m in a surreal heaven.

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