Here’s today’s prompt from Robert Lee Brewer’s Write Better Poetry blog: take the phrase “Get (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: “Get Smart,” “Get Incredibly Overwhelmed by the Beauty of Spring,” and/or “Get This Poem Written.” Hope you’ve been getting something out of this year’s challenge; I know it’s been firing me up.
Get vaccinated! I won’t be keeping a social distance and we won’t be wearing masks nothing will come between our lips
Get ready! I’ve been cooped up for more than a year frustration like a pressure cooker simmering— about to erupt
Get Naked! I’ve gone crazy from lack of touch my hands will slide along every inch of your skin savoring the heat and smooth intoxication of your body
To honor Charles Baudelaire on his 200th birthday, I wrote a prose poem from Robert Lee Brewer’s Write Better Poetry blog:
For today’s prompt, write a persona poem for an inanimate object. A persona poem is when you write a poem in the voice of someone (or in this case something) else. So write a poem in the voice of a pair of scissors, a picture frame, smart phone, or some other inanimate object.
Les Fleurs du mal
Dust drops like dandruff as you finally touch me after a languished abstinence. My spine creaks and cracks having been still for years or more. I stink like the musty old shelf that has been my home yet you open me up and inhale deeply as though enjoying my musk.
Before we were together, information only spread in sounds and memories— stories and songs from grandparents to fidgety children. Then you learned how to leave your mark, scratches on stone, indents in clay, pigment on parchment and your words could no longer be forgotten, only ignored.
Now you flip bits, make tablets glow and leave me to decay but there will come a day (I can feel it in the atmosphere) when sparks will no longer flow and you, my dear reader, will take me in the candlelight and caress my cover like an eager lover.
From Robert Lee Brewer’s Write Better Poetry blog: For today’s prompt, write a metaphor poem. A simile is when something is like a something else (example: I am like a tree); a metaphor is when something is something else (example: I am a tree). So take a moment to consider possible metaphors and then poem them out.
that grain of sand irritating the foot of your soul
a paper cut across your fingerprint leaving blood on the keys
the scab forming over a trauma and poets can’t stop picking
From Robert Lee Brewer’s Write Better Poetry blog:
For today’s prompt, write a villain poem. You could write a persona poem from the perspective of a popular villain (like Count Dracula, Thanos, or Dolores Umbridge). Or write a poem with a person doing a villainous thing (like eating the last piece of pie or littering). As always, have fun with it.
I ran but he was faster then turf struck my face and a muscular arm locked itself around my neck.
This must be how the mouse feels after the pounce.
Heart thumping like a flat tire, I didn’t struggle as he pulled my Road Runner lunchbox from trembling fingers.
As a short chubby boy, I was more than willing to break the code of the schoolyard and tattle.
The vice principal told my bully to give it back and he did, without protest.
But I now doubt it was about theft and wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t run.
For today’s prompt, take the phrase “The First (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 First Kiss,” “The First Day of the Month,” and/or “The First Time I Rode a Bike” (which, by the way, ended with me in a fence, because we didn’t cover how to brake).
My First Crush
I craved cooties as a young boy never thought girls were icky still don’t after two divorces
I clearly remember my first crush no names since we’re Facebook friends and she doesn’t know
At least I hope she doesn’t know I’d have rather go unnoticed than rejected especially back in elementary school
I knew I wouldn’t have a chance with her a future cheerleader while my parents shopped for me in the “husky” section
I concocted elaborate fantasies in my immature mind with only a vague notion of love and even less of sex
For today’s prompt, write an active poem. That could be a poem comprised of active (vs passive) verbs. But it could also be about exercising, playing a sport, or keeping your mind active. Any activity would do, I suppose, even watching the paint dry.
The trees are active tonight— I can hear them outside my window shuffling in the early spring breeze like college kids primping for a party.
They’re about to bloom— golden buds emerging from gray branches— all that pent up tension about to spurt forth in a haze of exuberance
For today’s prompt, write a communication poem. All poems communicate something, I know, but I’m thinking of different ways people can communicate: text message, letter, signs, and even speaking dialogue. Of course, there are forms of communication as well, because people love communicating.
I speak dog— not fluently— but I get by I’ve had a lisp since I lost my tail
We don’t talk politics or poetry canine aesthetics are very different more concerned with smells and rolling
We communicate with smiles and eyes and panting tongues head tilts and play bows
We’re pals sharing the joy of rough-housing— the suspicion of strangers and the sorrow of solitude
We drink life straight from the bowl and sing praises to the moon every chance we get
For today’s prompt, I want you to answer the question, “What does the future hold?” Then, make your answer the title of your poem and write your poem. Your answer could a general idea about the future like “Robots Will Rule the World” or a more personal thing like “Veggie Pizza and Sweet Tea.” Even if it’s not in your title, I’m hopeful the future holds a lot more poeming.
I freely admit it’s a selfish thought but I’m glad I won’t be around to suffer as we conclude our transformation of the world from Eden to Hades.
I’ve seen enough to know the decimated survivors will curse their ancestors from storm shelters underground after another scorched day coaxing crops from poisoned soil with reclaimed water.
I leave this poem as an apology to the future, folded in a book I hope will survive the flood. A lot of us saw it coming and we tried, we tried, to turn back the tide but greed prevailed.
For today’s prompt, write an introduction poem. Introduce yourself, introduce a friend, or introduce a stranger. If you don’t wish to introduce yourself, consider writing a persona poem (a poem in which you write from someone else’s point of view like Emily Dickinson or a bumblebee).
My Life So Far
I’ve been playing the poetry game long enough that I’ve lost track of how many have been published. But not so long that I don’t feel that thrill through my sinews when one gets accepted.
This is my tenth poem-a-day challenge. It’s addictive, like a runner’s high, exerting and exhorting myself poetically— just put one word in front of the other until you cross the finish line in May.
Why run a marathon? Why climb Everest? Why spend the cruellest month each year writing as if Shakespeare were holding a Glock to my head? Because the rejections still suck the enthusiasm from my art but if I keep trying I hope to someday get it right.