It’s been a decade since I’ve last heard the mystery of faith. How I knew the kindness of true religion, words of wisdom passed down from a man that knew God as a father, a friend, whose voice was stronger still even when cancer tried…
Category: Poetry Prompt Responses
In That, There is Peace – Hour 4 Prompt
It is eleven o’clock and I’m writing this to say that I am struggling today, here without you. You have missed so many major moments: the first African-American President, the last Space Shuttle launch, my wedding, your granddaughter and so much more. It’s hard for…
Shuddering Down – Hour Four/Prompt Response
It’s been a little over three years. Can you believe how fast they’ve gone? It feels like yesterday that we all spent the day at the Aquarium You, in your wheelchair, laughing at the fish and the sloth You, in a fresh ballcap, struggling with…
Hour 4 Prompt Four Letters
If I could tell you about my night, I’d start by saying I was so tired and I went to bed early. The door was cracked from one of the cats pushing it open. And I thought I was awake, staring at the piece of…
My Love Poem
He is a lovely jailor who loves me in cage of his arm, making me warm. His kiss is a miss that’s why I am piss. my god knows how my cleavage survive without his bite, while I miss that lovely ride craving to be…
Prompt Four (4): Dear Daddy [Hour 4]
Dear Daddy, You still visit in my dreams. I miss you being here, of course. You’d be really old, too. Still, there’s so much I’d like to know. You left so long ago, and I thought I’d remember it all. I do and I don’t….
2020, Poem 3, not a bop
A Pebble in His Pocket The poet Dean Tweets a picture daily, his pebble of the day, some imprinted with fossils, one is like a dragon’s egg, the other the devil’s eye. I wonder if he takes them home, in his pocket or under his…
Kenna
Dogs Joy Water Pavement Sunshine Warm wet muzzle meeting me in the mornings making me open my eyes to find a kind inquiring pair starring back at me. A wagging tale dances back and forth as his mission of waking me is completed It’s time…
Poetry Marathon Submission #3
Injustice in America Form: The Bop Ann WJ White When a teen, I raised my fists against racism, violence; but for LBGTQ rights, women, elders, battered children, nature. I squeaked and squawked in righteous fury, pushed away, seated, a white bread girl against a tide…
So now we know, now we know (Prompt 3)
So, here’s the problem. I’m in love, but I’m not. Love him, don’t. I knew before he came, wide-striped stalwart dragon breathing me. I dreamed him in my bed, in my shower, at the gas pump, eons ago, a new mom, old wife, frigid, estranged,…