The Forecast Turbulent seas washing over the shore Day after day, the waves crashing more So much the uncertain, so much the unplanned The currents washed quickly, unable to stand Fall down to your knees, then stand up once more To just lose your footing…
Tag: #PoetryMarathon
Prompt Two – My 12-Year-Old Self
Prompt Two – Text Prompt: Write a poem from the point of view of yourself, ten years ago. (My poem is 45 years ago, not 10) My 12-Year Self She jogs beside me, this child so sweet, I knew her well, a long time…
Hour Two: Write a poem from the point of view of yourself, ten years ago.
POV mumbai suburb small house three kids housewifely chores housekeeping tutoring kids washing the dregs from the smug teacup i told you so it smirks at me i told you so it mocks me the cup all neatly wrapped now lies as pieces in the…
Hour two text prompt -for I can do it all
Write a poem from the point of view of yourself, ten years ago. I am so excited Life is gonna go my way First week is done already Next week is on its way And I think people really like me And like what I…
Ten Years Ago
Cut loose, new freedoms spring from explosive endings. I’m blind to them such is the chaos, grieving loss, shaken questioning of self, the tumult of new beginnings.
Years
Past hides future plans. Presents become present. Standing still would be nice. Fast forward. Halt.
Prompt One – When the Past is not Tense
When the Past is not Tense after Diana Khoi Nguyen This is how they found us, giggling, draped around the room. Cousins, meeting post lockdown after months of giggling on zoom. Cousins, first best friends childhood partners in crime, Stolen mangoes, fashion trends…
Hour 1 poem
WRITING A POEM ON POEM Today I must write a poem on poem Should I search on Google for inspiration? That is not a creative solution It will only lead to cheating and frustration What should my poem pattern be? Or should I first go…
SMOOTH IMPERFECTION
I’m a thief with grief I longed to get relief I’m a beast incarnate Compassionate by nature I’m like a failure with no out-vie But I always vie I’m a phony music with With bonny euphony I’m lost in the phase Driven by the lust…
Checkpoint
Dark firs and spruces fall in order down the hill and drape the checkpoint in mute darkness. Mists roll desolate, hanging, within one’s touch floodlit by a single beam, which lights benighted borderlands, tempting new beginnings far from the calm comforts of the past. Invitation…