Penny for your thoughts Nickle and dime for free Quarter past the hour
Fifty scents I smell For half a dollar to sneeze A dollar a day
Five alive, ten dead Twenty soldiers in a row Fifty is a Grant
3 haikus for $100. Get ‘em cheap!
This is for a dVerse prompt: The use of lists in poetry can be a very powerful tool. Not just as poems themselves but maybe even more as a tool to start when your creativity is low. … The whole poem may be a list, but you may also use it in a section as above.
Essentially write a poem with a list in it. I chose to do denominations of US currency. I hope you enjoy. 😊
A mountain of trash blocks out the sky. The clouds gather, I hope it doesn’t rain Plastic waste piled high, one upon the other. I can’t tell if that is my motherboard within the mix Will it all tumble down upon me? There are plastic wires and covers, cut, loose and free Perspective changes everything.
This is for a dVerse prompt: I would like you to draw inspiration from the following artworks by Indian artists and write a poem inspired by any one.
I chose the artwork above. I hope you enjoy. 😊
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Background picture by sebastiano iervolino from Pixabay
“Would you like some wine?” asked Alexander.
“That would be lovely,” replied Rebeca. “Your usual?”
“Of course,” replied Alexander, pouring a healthy serving into the chalice before Rebecca.
Rebecca took the chalice within both her hands, letting the fragrance of the wine wash over her. And the faint perfume from its chalice steals her worries and cares before a drop of wetness touches her lips. She takes a sip and feels her muscles relax, her shoulders fall into a more natural position, all the tension from endless meetings and rushed decisions melt away to the floor.
“Better?”
“Much.”
“Then we can settle the matter of payment.”
“Of course,” she said.
And just like that, business intruded into her life again. Such was to be expected when you were the CEO of one the country’s largest energy corporations and dabbled in espionage on the side.
This is for a dVerse prompt: Write a 144 piece of prose including the given line.
The Line I’ve chosen this line from “Sympathy” for you to use creatively in your fictional composition:
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals—
Your challenge? Write a piece of prose (not poetry) of no more than 144 words that includes the above given line. You may change it with breaks or punctuation, without altering the order of the words.
Restless I dream. Memory fades, just the scent of you remains. Origami petals on paper flowers, yet your perfume runs through my veins. Sacred heart beats within a pious chest. My thoughts unholy as I gaze upon that picture. Enchanting smile, enthralling eyes, lips I long to caress with my own, Scentimental sentiments play upon my senses, remembering your garden petal incense,
Apricot nectar drips on my tongue like honey upon a scone. Red cascade of ringlet curls. Eyes for you and you alone.
Remember me, in your bed tonight, or in your tower locked away, Earth goddess looking down, queen or prisoner; Dark desire rules your night so in the daytime you pray.
Violets are blue I remember the perfume of us together I know you do too
This is for a dVerse prompt: Please choose at least FIVE rose names from the list below. Or choose your own FIVE words or more from this huge list.
If the rose name is more than one word, you must use both words. There is one stipulation, you can NOT use the word, “rose” in your poem! You may write any sort of poem—form or not.
For my poem each of the first word(s) of the line are types of roses, they are in italics, as per the “huge list” except from the last stanza (obviously I think). I hope you enjoy! 😊
Bloom Open petals to morning light, Rosebud’s spreading, Peaches before the fruit. Show me all your pretty. Smile big, all attraction; Bring the buzzers to your center. Blooming garden Full of fragrance Floating on the springtime breeze. The scent lingers Just a while. Bloom
This is for a dVerse prompt: Write a quadrille (a poem of EXACTLY 44 words, not including the title) AND include the word “bloom” or a form of the word within the body of the poem. I hope you enjoy! 😊
I’m tired and horny It’s been a long day I need to be put away I’m tired and horny And only one of those, looks like it’s gonna change I’m tired and horny I need you in me Do it hard and raw and free I’m tired and horny I need to feed both body and desire Come with me, light my fire I’m tired and horny And I don’t want to be Won’t you come and set me free I’m tired and horny Now in bed Be with me and fulfill the promises of all the things you said I’m no longer tired nor horny The morning sun in my eyes Looking over to see you in my bed, and all that implies.
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Oh, that I could know that my Words could combine like a soul Ballad; one that has That deep groove, that grown Ups put the kids to bed, deep In your feels like, Damn, make the Wetness flow like rivers.
Oh yes. I’ve known rivers.
This is for a dVerse prompt: Write a Golden Shovel poem.
So here is the prompt: Write a Golden Shovel poem. *Choose a line from a poem that resonates with you. *Build your poem so each line ends with a word from that line. *Keep the words in order, forming the original line down the right margin. *Let your poem move in its own direction. Surprise us! *Include attribution (after [poet])
My Golden Shovel poem is taken from The Negro Speaks of Rivers by Langston Hughes. An excellent poem the line I’ve known rivers is from the poem as well and is repeated along with the line My soul has grown deep like the rivers. I hope you enjoy! 😊
I walked in a dream. Grandfather held my hand. Walk with me young cub The years lay in his calloused hand Wisdom and hard work Nature’s lessons taught through time
Listen to the words I speak Listen to the lessons they teach Hear and learn values
The turtle walks slow the truth upon his back Deliberate steps to take in the journey Sure of himself and upon the right track Integrity, sincerity, let them be the words that you speak
The wolf howls to the moon, joined by the pack Chorus of all singing praises to the moon Accept yourself, humility is not about what you lack Acceptance of all in their place above and below yourself
Be yourself, just as the Sabe Know who you are, honest in your assessment Use what and who you are, open as a babe Show the world who you truly are is a brave honesty
Fly like an eagle, soar above the mountain, observe and see Love unconditionally, parent to a child, peace as your reward Love is the center of all that is taught and in who we should be Can you love yourself and others? The highest of honors
Respect to the buffalo, all of it used from hide to bone, home and art Respect of the buffalo giving it’s all Honor to all, respect from the heart Waste not, want not, honor and respect those as you would want them to do to you
Brave bear growl and roar Face the fears within yourself and in the world without Find your strength to believe in yourself and you will soar Bravery and course lay in the steadiness of your convictions
Wise beaver holding back the water Using the inherent knowledge of nature To the benefit of family, not just some river otter Wisely knows between plus and minus and their results
Seven teachings learned Wisdom of the ages lessons Given in a dream
I wake now wiser Saddened by my loss Grandfather, teacher, no longer I seek to learn the lessons Teaching as I’m taught Gratitude of family
This is for a dVerse prompt: Your mission is to write a poem influenced by The Seven Grandfather Teachings in any way that you would like to approach the theme.
I chose to do all 7 as leaving out any seemed lacking when I thought of ideas. I hope you enjoy! 😊
Red color silence Anger in the words not said I long to listen
I hate when she does this to me. So demure, so fragile, curled up within herself. Shutting me out. It no longer is about what was done, I was wrong as was she, but this silent war has become our battlefield. The initial shots that started the conflict, like true war, are long forgotten in the bombings of words not said. Hurt feelings lay like open scars; maimed soldiers screaming in their voiceless ways for help. I tiptoe through shared spaces, navigating a minefield, the tripwire of speech certain to set off an explosion. Silence is golden yet I long for the boom.
Provoke her! Yell the war hawks in my head. Get her to fire and expose her position. But I am a veteran of the silent wars. Speak civil, speak sparse. Emotions are terrain too valuable to lose. Sentences can lead to conversation, conversation to confession, confession to contriteness and then all is lost. I will not be the first to bow to the silent winds. Everything I say can and will be used against me. Besides, this time I’m not the only one.
Silence has seeped into the very bones of our home. A war torn, shelled out area where the killing of conversation hangs in the air like the foul stench of death. The passing of ghosts as we walk from room to room. Silent wraiths of bitterness, haunted by past aggressions. Even when words are spoken they seem hollow; silenced of meaning. Hello. How are you? Do you want to eat? Okay.
I can’t take any more. A battle won must be worth the prize. I’m not even angry anymore. I’m tired, beat down by the silence of my own thoughts. I’ll come humble, hat in hand. I’ll come angry, full of bluster and fury. I’ll come with measured words intertwined with wisdom. All I know is that I must come and this silence must end. Speak to me of wrongs to be made right. Shortcomings that have missed the mark. Tell me what must be done to make amends.
“Babe, we need to talk.”
This is for a dVerse prompt: Let’s ponder silence as we understand it. Then bear witness to it in haibun! This week, write a haibun that alludes to [silence] in any way that works for you. Hope you enjoy! 😊
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Gerard Sekoto, Police Man on a White Horse in the Fields (1959)
Can you see him? The man on the horse. I can’t. I see through him. A white man On a horse In a field Of whiteness. In my country he’d be blue This white man On a horse In a field of whiteness. He’d look down from his horse At the few shades of brown In a field of whiteness What would be in his eyes? Would he see the brown Breaking up the field of whiteness As a splash of color Or stains In a field of whiteness. What would this white man On a horse See in his field of whiteness? Because in my country This white man In blue Would see the field as his He may not own the field Nay, Probably could not own the field, Not with his salary, But he’d think he owned it anyway And this white man On a horse In a field of whiteness Would look upon the brown On his field And he’d see With eyes cold Like ICE From his horse In a field Of whiteness Something different than I.
This is for a dVerse prompt: For today’s Poetics prompt, I’d like you to choose one of the paintings featured in this post and base your poem on it. I chose Police Man on a White Horse in the Fields, the picture above, to do my ekphrastic poem on. I hope you enjoy!
P.S. In this poem my country is the US not Canada as I was born in the US and chose to claim either one as I feel. 😁
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