Today's prompt was to write a poem that begins with a 'command' verb.
Quotidian
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.
Today's prompt was to write a poem that gives 5 answers to the one question....
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.
Today's prompt was to write a poem to the theme of something good coming, everything is going to be alright vibe.
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!)
Today's prompt was to write about something huge.
I am going to write about what is huge in my life at the moment.
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.
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!
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!
Alter-Ego
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.
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.
Today's prompt was an acrostic prompt - which I love, so I did two different versions! First one - random lines with my name; second one - lines from poems using my name, and third the way we supposed to!
Day 6: Acrostic
Today's prompt was to write a poem about a mythological or legendary character doing something really ordinary.
