Writing Prompt, Day 17

Write a poem with the word "love" hidden inside it. "Love" could be hidden inside a single word, like "glove," or within two words, like "palo verde."

Have fun!

Writing Prompt, Day 16

Write a poem where the last word of the first line begins with the first letter of your name, and the last word of the second line begins with the second letter of your name until you have spelled out your first and/or your last name.

A Survey of Sidewalk Chalk in Five Kilometers and Seven Stanzas, by Ed Kline

A Survey of Sidewalk Chalk in Five Kilometers and Seven Stanzas

April 15, 2020

a sunflower in pink and blue

blossoms from a sewer grate

at the intersection of 43^rd and Taylor;

a blue shark, teeth bared,

lurks nearby, blithely oblivious

to the lack of water.

one message tells me i’m

Pandemicing like a boss

and another reminds me

Kindness is Contagious, so i

smile beneath my mask at fellow

walkers as we stay six feet apart.

yellow, green, orange, and blue

easter eggs litter a driveway,

fading after a few days’ play.

hopscotch boards abound, from

one to forty-two, interrupted with

spins and jumps and downward dogs.

a pair of mosaiced hearts

intertwine, a chalk-art hug

in lieu of a human embrace.

Writing Prompt , Day 15

Make a list of 7-10 things you've seen in the last 24 hours. Try to use all of them in a poem.

Poop on the Sidewalk, by Brayden Thomas

Fresh shoes

Sharp suit

New cut

Best dressed

Then there's a poop on the sidewalk

Smelly shoes

Sharp suit

New cut

Best dressed

Then there's mustard on the sandwich

Smelly shoes

Yellow suit

New cut

Best dressed

Then there's a flame from the heater

Smelly shoes

Yellow suit

Burnt hair

Best dressed

So now you're cautious... 

But then there's a man in need

Black socks

White undershirt

Burnt hair

Barely dressed

Change heart

And a man with

Smelly fresh shoes

A yellow sharp suit

The same haircut

And the best pieces of clothing he's had in his life

All because there's a poop on the sidewalk

I See Nothing, by Brayden Thomas

A red shining car

A pink boxy house

Inside there's a cat

chasing a mouse

A silver rocking horse

A black dusky moon

We, the people,

look like such fools

A green painted sky

An orange colored tortoise

The mouse and the cat

didn't even notice

A purple shining sun

A brown colored flower

We, the people,

must stop letting color determine power

A big yellow rock

A bright blue chair

The mouse and the cat

don't even care

A cleansing white fire

A neon green shelf

We, the people,

need to get over ourselves.

[A day that is supposedly unlike any other], by Savannah Richmond-Breeding

A day that is supposedly unlike any other 

Can easily be summed up like any other

Easter

Either a day to celebrate a savior OR

A day for spoiled children to get high of cheap bunny-shaped chocolate

Or it can be both. 

Wake up. Church. Home. Breakfast. 

Watch little kids search in earnest. Watch older, greedier kids search in lust.

Dinner. Children fight. Resolve. Bed.

It is a day of tradition nonetheless.

Each decision easily predicted the day before.

The tradition lies not in the celebration or even the day itself

The tradition is to give a day like any other some sort of extraordinary quality

Some excuse to believe that there is meaning to life

When all it truly is is a day like any other.

In My Closet, by Ed Kline

In My Closet

(a pair of septolets)

April 14, 2020

a stack of

khakis

sits on

the shelf

two dozen

flannel button-downs

hang neatly

the Cons line up,

two pairs

per week,

waiting for

a distant

school day.

Writing Prompt, Day 14

Today's prompt is built around form rather than content. Try writing a septolet (sep-toe-lay) today.

Here are the rules for a septolet:
1) A TOTAL of 14 words in 7 lines.
2) No one can have more than 3 words.
3) The poem should focus on a single subject, object, thought, or feeling.
4) The first for lines should be a single thought.
5) The last three lines should be a second thought. (You may add a stanza break between lines 4 and 5, if you wish).

I'm going to try to pair two septolets, for a total of 4 thoughts, 28 words, and 14 lines. Sounds tough.

Luck Poem, by Lillian Lawrence

April 13, 2020

 

Clovers and horseshoes are given high praise,

Rabbit feet and pennies too. 

But what ever happened to the straw?

Not the physical plastic kind that clogs up the ocean,

But the kind that decides fate. 

Some straws are long, 

And some are short. 

Some straws contain vibrant hues

And some have dull beiges. 

Some straws hold stripes 

And some merely dots.

Some straws have loops

And some are just straight. 

Fate has been long-thought to be decided by

Animal paws, 

Backyard plants,

Even the simple coin. 

But whatever happened to the straw?

Leaving fate up to a little game of chance,

Banking on a friend’s misfortune,

Hoping that you might escape the clutches of the shortest among them. 

One risks it all for the simple straw.