Tag Archives: Lexington Poetry Month

Yesterday’s prompt (computer bag) tumbled around in my head all day without much result. (Hence no post.) But when I tossed today’s prompt (drop dead) into the mix, the two stuck together in a weird way that caught my fancy.

Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.

Color saturation

The computer bag drops dead
in the center of the room. The lizard man
who brought it here is tired; there are dark
scales under his eyes. He doesn’t quite blend
with the wallpaper, a cartoonish crazy
quilt of flowers in shocking hues.

No wonder he is tired.

The prompt became the title of the poem. I usually avoid doing that, but it just seemed to work best in this case.

Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.

Please call…

Her voice echoes down the line, no further
than London but it might as well be

England: he will not answer when he sees her
number in the caller ID, will not pick up

the phone to dial his childhood
home. She waits and hopes, withering

each time the phone rings and he
is not on the other end.

The prompt for today’s poem was “child.”

Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.

The magic chef

Sweet Julia, your grand gestures, generous
frame, and ready wit supplied all the diversion
necessary to cover your sleight
of hand: how you poured your secret

heartache into every dish you prepared, each recipe
you tested and perfected, feeding by proxy
whole generations of families you could never
otherwise call your own.

I took some liberties with today’s prompt (pony tail).

Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.

Horse hair

some like the way a mare’s tail
flames behind her as if she sets
the very air on fire when she runs

others fancy how her mane breaks
along the arch of her neck and cascades
over her withers, water spilled on stone

me, I watch the feathered dance of fetlocks
as her feet fly over the earth, shimmy
of lightning to the thunder of her hooves

Today’s prompt (wire mesh) really gave me some fits, but I suppose if you bat an idea around long enough you can beat something out of it.

Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.

Pest control

shimmering chickenwire octagons keep out
chickens and anything larger than a chipmunk
but not the predatory fingers of raccoons
nor chipmunks themselves

leaden hardware cloth squares keep out
the smallest rodents (even chipmunks)
and birds, but not bugs except praying
mantids and probably tarantulas

what’s needed is screening, no longer
made from wire but pressed or extruded
petrol-polysomething, to keep all visible
annoyances at a safe distance

The prompt for this poem (pegs) took me in a peculiar direction. I think Adam Bede has spilled over a bit – don’t believe anyone who tells you that what you read (0r watch or listen to) doesn’t affect your thinking.

Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.

Gettin’ around

Me old pegs ain’t what they used to be
back when they was gams:

nicely turned, full o’ spring,
and silky soft, like lambs.

Now they’s stiff and barky tough,
with joints what creaks and groans,

but I doesn’t mind it overmuch —
they beats not havin’ none.

The prompt for today’s poem was “chocolate muffins.” I’ve not been able to think of a title. Please make your suggestion(s) in the comment section below. Thanks!

Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.

Chocolate are the muffins of the mind
moist and dark, rich in alkaloids and caffeine

They rise but do not overflow the cup, an orderly
mountain range in the pan, on the cooling rack

Though lofty in appearance, they are dense
within: fine-textured, firm, and bittersweet