Showing posts with label Prompts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prompts. Show all posts

Thursday, February 29, 2024

Writing Prompts

 

Writing Prompts

My photographs are prompts.

        Give me a place to start.

What words come to mind?

Do they take me back in time?

Is the scene new or

something I've been through?

Will you see the connection or

have I gone to a place only I can inhabit?



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Tuesday, November 29, 2022

Let Them Have Their Say


Let Them Have Their Say

Memories turn on in my mind.

I can't help but let them play.

There was a time when

I tried to keep them at bay.

They dropped in on me anyway.

I find it best to let them

have their say.

This poem was written for prompt 28 of the November PAD Chapbook Challenge. I used my Nov. 17 blog, Sweet Sounds, as the prompt for this poem.



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Thursday, July 9, 2020

I Am Here


I Am Here

I am here.
Sometimes,
 I go there.
That could be
anywhere.

I come back here.
Someday, I will
stay away and
wind up who
knows where.

The prompt for this poem is "where you are."


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Monday, November 5, 2018

At Home with the Sun


At Home with the Sun

I walk to the end of the pier
to await the sun.
Those who make their living here
have begun to work.
They ready the boats
to seek  the day's catch.
A gull crowds me as it flies by,
 as if to say," You don't belong here."
I look across the water
and see a glow on the horizon.
As the sky turns gold,
I feel right at home.

The prompt  for Day 5 of the November PAD Chapbook Challenge is private.

Links



Thursday, September 6, 2018

The Game of Life


The Game of Life

We play with time
even though we
cannot see the clock.

Get up to watch the
sun rise or sleep
the morning away.

Work overtime
or come and go
on the dot.

Worry about everything
or enjoy
whatever we've got.

Fill each day
in our own way
until the clock runs out.

The prompt for this poem was game.

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Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Harvest


Harvest

As I work in the garden,
poems are self-sowing.
They grow among the flowers.
Begin as colors, shapes and sizes.
Have a certain posture.
They blossom in different ways.
Burst out at me or unfold slowly.
Then, the time comes to cut them down.

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Thursday, September 22, 2016

Freestyle


Freestyle

The duck ghosts atop the water.
A crack swimmer, it is content
in the company of only
the wake that it creates.
The bird knows this time
alone is limited so it checks
to see if the raft is at hand.
With the group nowhere in sight,
it continues the journey--freestyle.

Thanks to Robert Lee Brewer for his continuing Wednesday prompts on Poetic Asides. While writing this poem, I learned a new definition for ghost (glide smoothly) and raft (a group of ducks).

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Thursday, May 19, 2016

Napkin Poetry


Life is like a bowl of mixed nuts:

1. You may be judged by the amount of cashew have.

2. Be patient and the hazel clear.

3. Don't be afraid  to say, "Almond my ways."

4. Don't get caught pecan into the wrong places.

5. If all else fails, escape to Brazil.

Have you ever written napkin poetry? Thanks to Robert Lee Brewer for this prompt on his Poetic Asides blog.  Occasionally, Wordsmith Studio holds a bar napkin poetry evening or weekend.

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Thursday, February 18, 2016

Breakthrough


Breakthrough

Type at a furious pace.
The words flow faster
than the fingers find
the keys.
The key is to capture
the concept as concisely
as possible.
The possibilities
represent plots of
all types.
Type at a furious pace.

This is another poem written from a #FlaFiWriMo prompt. (See En Plein Air). The first and last lines are a phrase chosen randomly from a book. Have you ever created a prompt that way?

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