Temptation

Posted on 2018-04-18 by Bartholomew Barker

For today’s prompt, write a temptation poem. Nearly everyone is tempted by something: fame, glory, money, chocolate. Today is the perfect day to give in to the temptation to write about your (or “a friend’s”) temptation. Also, I totally understand the temptation to write about The Temptations today.

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Temptation

Turning on the television is too easy.
It should require a crank like early automobiles
instead of pressing a simple button
from the comfort of my couch.

Any given day there’s a marathon
of something mildly entertaining
or I can make my own on-demand
and just slip into a procrastination.

I’ve got a full bag of chips
and some dip that’s nearing expiration.
This wine’s not going to drink itself.
I’ve written enough poems this month.

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About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
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8 Responses to Temptation

  1. JeanMarie's avatar JeanMarie says:
    2018-04-18 at 20:08

    Are you spying on me? Stop writing about my life! :)

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  3. Pingback: Monday Poetry Prompt: Temptation | Living Poetry

  4. krishansen4tango's avatar krishansen4tango says:
    2018-04-23 at 12:02

    Resonates with me!

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  5. writenaked's avatar writenaked says:
    2018-04-24 at 19:59

    Love the first stanza! Reminds me of the basic TVs we had when I was in elementary school. One TV didn’t have a remote. It might have been that one, or another, that took about 10 seconds to warm up before you could see ‘the picture.’ You’d hear the voices first. Poetic in itself.

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