How are you going to keep this up? Your planets are drifting away from the sun, and this is more than a cold. Honestly, when is the answer ever fine, thank you.
Category: Poetry Prompt Responses
Never forget (pantoum) #8
Never forget your mother’s love She struggles and strives for you alone Clothes on your back. Shoes on your feet Do you not remember how you have grown? She struggles and strives for you alone Whipping up chicken curry to fill your tummy Do…
Taken Out of Context
Excuse me? I can make my own Excuses Thank you! Pardon me, For asking~ How are you? This hopeless world Welcome home Where most, don’t really care. Have a nice day Excuse me, for hoping. ©2016 Amanda Potter
Mutant
Excuse me, she mutters as the loser picked her pocket Thank you, she thinks when it is proven missing Excuse me, she screams as the bowl falls down the steps Thank you, her fist slams through the door in rage Excuse me, he queries, afraid suddenly How…
Hour 18 – Prompt 18 – Animal – A guessing game
I am a reptile and exist in varied colours and size I have long tongue, a swaying gait and crests on my snout If I am large, I also have a beautiful, prehensile tail I thrive in warm habitats from rain forests to deserts My…
Olive the pet cat
Olive, the pet cat had olive green eyes. I was seven when I picked her from some roadside. I cannot recall the exact place. She looked starved. So I got her home. Named her olive which my friends said was funny for a cat. It…
HOUR 18 Veirdoff… who needs it!
Veirdoffus Chuben… who needs it! I have so many stories all of them true most about dogs, as I’ve had a few. From shepherds to dobies and a mixture or two. Let me start with our shepherd, who had a friend Benjy, a beagle he…
Prompt Hour Eighteen–creature, from prose to stanza
Transplanted The creature darted across midday’s blistering parking lot, sheltering in the shade of one car, then another, as I watched through the glass of a doctor’s office door in my new home town, cool within. It was lean and low to the ground, with tufts…
Windell #11
I am without a home, no place to call my own, no house made of no limestone, no house in no street in Bayonne. But I live like this to say, that man needs no home on a good day, that there is another…
Indelicate deflection
The first heart I ever broke was my own you could call it a ricochet I’ll go with stupid though immature is a reasonable copout when I am feeling self-charitable at nineteen, we were in love – not lust well defined lines obeyed…