Tuesday, 19 April 2022

Day 19: Command


Today's prompt was to write a poem that begins with a 'command' verb.


Look, today is the same as every other day. 

Honeydew dawn light, the sun 

a mere rind in the sky.  


Dust motes float in the minutes, 

pixelate the hours into blurry humdrum. 

The clock ticks on relentless. 


Today is blanched yellow, like a bruise.  

Tomorrow grey, faltering.  

And the moon, the moon will not show  


her face for fear a thumb 

will smudge her out of sky 

and into dark forgetting. 





Monday, 18 April 2022

Day 18: Questions


Today's prompt was to write a poem that gives 5 answers to the one question....

When the luminous quill of moon crests the inky night.
Indigo limbo-lounge of forgetful sleep.
Midnight sonata of rain, thoughts passing like trains.
The wee hours of quiet, black and white sketched street sights.
The dreaming time; decibels of stars chiming on the subconscious.
(Question: What is your favourite time of day?)

Thursday, 14 April 2022

Day 14: Film Credits


Today's prompt is to write a poem about what the opening credits to the movie of our life look like...! Hmm...

Take Two

Aerial view swooping low 

(can't decide if it's city or rollicking fields) -

upbeat score, guitars jangling, rising as it goes. 

Instead of the Metro Goldwyn Mayer lion

there's a ram, horns glinting all aglow. 

Black and white and then blast of colour.

Think Dorothy entering Oz, 

or manic pixie dream girl vibes

stealing the show. 

Full rays of sunshine. Panoramic vistas of sky. 

Macro montage of moments

showing handwriting on a page, 

zoom in to a girl, young, blue-eyed, 

in springtime

with blossom trees blooming

outside. Cue swell of score - 

this is going to be epic, 

but on a small scale,

introspective, grand.

Maybe magical realist and a bit French surrealist -

the kind of movie

that won't win awards

but makes you glad you're alive

and serendipitously lucky

to know it. 

Day 13: Everything is Going to be Alright

Today's prompt was to write a poem to the theme of something good coming, everything is going to be alright vibe. 

Hunker down, hibernate
harness the heart's powers.
Swap coffee for camomile tea,
drape the hours with the silk sheet of solitude.
Believe there will come a day when
wildflowers will bloom
in your soul's soil
fragrancing every vista,
dancing in a breeze of thought
until every moment of your life
becomes a kaleidoscope
of fiercely blooming colour,
heart spinning in place.

Tuesday, 12 April 2022

Day 12: Tiny

Today's prompt was to write about something tiny. I did not think this poem was going to end up being what it is... (Where do these obscure love poems come from?1Ha!) 

Ode to a Full Stop
Smaller than a grain of sand,
speck of dust or freckle dot,
both sigh and echo
pause and ponder,
miniature moon that tethers
the gravity of thought,
the full stop in a sentence
is a logical demarcation.
But in your eyes, it's bigger
than any word; world
of its own. An abrupt cessation
of lilting, languorous language
flowing fluent feeling -
a stone thrown in a puddle,
aftermath rippling
any clarity of vision.

Monday, 11 April 2022

Day 11: Something Huge

 Today's prompt was to write about something huge. 

I am going to write about what is huge in my life at the moment. 


Tears beget tears
until sadness is a lake
with soundless depths.
Cool and icy, silver as a sword,
steadily it rises until
horizon is water-marked.

Sadness begets sadness 
until sorrow is a moon
that orbits days, invisible.
looms over every night,
pulling the tides in hearts
phantom-like and cold.

Sorrow begets sorrow 
until despair is a planet; Jupiter-huge
with Titan storms, ferocious grey,
ringed with debris of worry.
Giant of fact overshadowing
earth's shine.

Despair begets despair
until darkness is an universe
of doused stars and endless void.
Where nothing is bigger
than everything and meaning 
a weightless lie.

Sunday, 10 April 2022

Day 10: Love Poem

Today's prompt is to write a love poem. I write loads of love poems all the time - any number of prompts can turn into a love poem for me! But trying to write one 'on demand' is a little difficult...

Seasons of Love

I fell in love with you in autumn

when the moon was a gold coin flung

and the leaves, red and amber, 

made beautiful their goodbye song.  

I warmed to the cool of you in winter

enfolded in your glacial depths,

iceberg heart revealed, thawed only

by and for me (secret kept). 

I planted dreams of you in spring

when our eyes were buds in bloom,

and light danced in the palm of our hands

from the sun of smiles in tune. 

But I let you go in summer -

I should have listened to the leaves -

never trust a love story

that begins in an autumn breeze.

Saturday, 9 April 2022

Day 9: Nonet

Today's prompt was to write a 'nonet' - a 9 line poem, with the first line having nine syllables, the next one eight, next seven, so on and on until you get to one.

More difficult than it looks!

April Stargazing

We look for Jupiter and Venus
see only a waxing pink moon,
think about the little prince
how flowers bloom in space;
those wayward journeys
out of darkness
bring the stars
to us

Friday, 8 April 2022

Day 8: Alter-Ego


Today's prompt was to write about our alter-ego. Alrightey then...!

(I always wanted to be She-Ra or Supergirl when I was younger, now I'll settle for any fierce feminist and brave woman. My alter-ego is definitely made of sterner stuff!)

Really enjoyed this!


A cross between She-Ra and Supergirl -

hero not victim, feminist not finesse -

without the spandex or cloak, she carries a sword

twice the size of herself, thickens the air

with that sure-of-herself stride. 

She is not meek. Spouts flames 

where I drown in silence, putters at the edge 

of rage with a spark I can barely extinguish. 

She does not vacillate between nuance and nicety

but plunges right in, guffaws and hyena-shrieks

at foibles I parley with politeness. 

She has no qualms, no quietness,

is no princess - but dragon, fire, fierce. 

Chomps at the bit of reality, chews, and spits

it out. Desires more. Does not give away an ounce

of self-worth.  Authenticity, bravery, ferocity, personified. 

Scarlett O' Hara's red earth rage 

heart held over hurdle of head. 

Medusa in anger, Artemis in age. 

Woman without worry, without want 

to please.  

She is all tongues, my alter-ego, 

when I am tongue-tied, vilified;

words her weapons, enemies hushed.

When I dither, it is her voice in my throat

between my teeth, wanting out.

Her self that trumps 

all sense of self-doubt. 

Thursday, 7 April 2022

Day 7: Proverbs


Today's challenge was to write a poem questioning a proverb.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder (or Forget?)

Absence makes the heart grow

flabbier; fattens its forgetting

a muscle that strains to remember

catalogued moments of love. 

Absence thickens its petal walls

until it is more stone than flower,

quiets its chambers of music

carves hollows into its veins

until it is an effigy of lack:

memories spilled like marbles,

a velvet purse emptied 

of its ruby jewels.