Tag Archives: poetry prompts

Prompted poetry: bluffing

Though I apologize for my prolonged absence, I’m not going to try to explain beyond these two words: marching band.

My poetry buddy Doug Self tweeted for a word prompt last week, so I obliged. Here’s a link to his response (http://dougselfblog.wordpress.com/2014/11/18/bluffing/) and below is what I came up with.

Job Search

It’s a cat-and-mouse game, he said. One plays
dead, the other feigns disinterest. But which
is hunter and which is hunted? No, that’s not
quite right—

it’s a game of chicken, where each tries to guess
how far the other will go, who’s bluffing, who will flinch
first. Then again, he mused, the one who blinks
is the loser, so maybe

it’s more like dating, where each puts the best
foot forward. He nodded. The catch is, you don’t know who
is looking for a long-term relationship and who just wants
to hook up.

Oh, she said, you always have to assume
the latter.

Prompted poetry: walkers at dawn

It’s still National Poetry Month! Above is yesterday’s prompt from WordXWord’s 30/30 Poetry Challenge (http://3030poetry.com/). Below is yesterday’s poem.

The Dawn Walkers

We follow the terminator’s endless
sweep, throw long shadow
legs over mountains, span plains, leap whole
valleys, stride through forests. We skim
oceans, dive from shore to shore, not quite touching
the surface, ours the flight of night and day, ever
tumbling as the round world rolls.

Prompt poem

This poem is a mash-up of bits and pieces from a long list of prompts I’ve collected in my writing journal. Nothing profound, just something fun I tossed off Saturday morning.

listening to the voices in the cracked
red bowl while you were lost
I could not sleep — bowlegged dreams
follow the grain of indolent beliefs and discarded
remainders of ideas in a dark time

use your favorite letter traveling alone
without leaving home out of fear
I could not sleep — growing in an old place
as if seeing it for the first time
a scrawl of words in the background

Prompted poetry: promise

It’s time to pollute the blogosphere again with some of my poetic calisthenics. Please share responses and/or suggestions!

Flotsam of Fidelity

broken bits of promises lie
scattered on that futile
ocean whose treacherous bed
glitters with bones of wrecked
lovers forsworn in storms of deadly tedium
foundered in monotonous
habit of heart

Workshop poetry: Tarot de Paris

Wednesday night I facilitated a writing workshop at the library, “Creative Writing with Tarot.” Sixteen of us sat down with pen and paper and let ourselves get creative, with tarot cards for inspiration.

During one of the three-card spread exercises, I came up with a short poem for each of the cards I drew from the Tarot de Paris.

paris veilThe Veil

naked she stands above the moon
draped with light and her own
fragrant hair

paris sun

 

 

 

 

The Sun

the king is a fool who thinks
he is a god
the king is dead
long live the king

paris stallion of airStallion of Air

the moon’s horse cleaves
the night with chalken
hooves, its crystal breath
an icy cloud

 

 

 

(All images from the Tarot de Paris by J. Philip Thomas.)