Still

Rocky Heart by Vera Kratochvil

The lines engraved

In my petrified heart

Still form the shape

Of your smile.

Written for the PAD challenge Day 15 prompt over at Poetic Asides, part of the Two-for-Tuesday write a love poem / write an anti-love poem.

Reading the Signs

Neon Nights by Pennie Gibson

Messages from the universe
Marking my destined path
Would be easier to notice
If they were posted
In flashing neon
Fifty feet tall
Rather than cryptic clues
Lurking around
The outskirts of my consciousness.



~~~  Written for the Day 3 Poem a Day challenge over at Poetic Asides.  Prompt was to write a message poem.

Me and Neil

Moving by George Hodan

“I Am, I Said” echoes off the walls
Of a nearly-barren apartment,
The half-filled cartons
Packed with the trappings
Of a broken life,
Mementos carefully sanitized
Of your presence…
If only memories
Were so easily cleansed.

No one is there in the emptiness,
Only me and Neil.
I close my eyes and see
The ratty green recliner
Leftover from your frat boy days,
Your tattered Elway jersey
Draped across the arm,
Photographs of laughing faces
Untouched by the taint of betrayal,
The calloused hands
That used to dry my tears.
Those tears fall freely
In this soon-to-be vacant place,
Yet another failed attempt
To build a world without you.

Neil understands my pain,
The loneliness that hangs
Like tattered curtains
In a low-rent room,
The need to keep moving on,
Not knowing if I’m running
Away from heartache
Or straight toward it.
I tell myself that the next town
Will perhaps be a bit less empty,
But no one is there to believe my lies.
No one is listening.
Not you.
Not Neil.
Not even the chair.


~~Written for the Day 1 Poem a Day prompt from Poetic Asides, write either a beginning poem or an ending poem.

Here's a little video of Neil Diamond singing "I Am, I Said," just to show you where a bit of the inspiration came from for this one.

In Case of Writer’s Block, Break This Poem

Word Help by Anna Langova

I collect words,
abandoned syllables
of overheard conversations
tucked away for a rainy day,
stashing “itinerant” and “furtive”
in empty pickle jars in the pantry,
“mercurial” carefully folded and slid
between boxes of winter clothes
in the top of my closet
next to “pedantic” and “demeanor,”
“serendipity” carried in my pockets
until threadbare and tatty,
files and notebooks overflowing until the day
I recycle those collected words into poetry,
something to touch the dreams of another’s soul
by exposing my own.


Written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Challenge Day 11 prompt, to write a poem with “In Case of (blank)” as the title.  Also written for the prompt from Poetry Jam asking about the contents of our pockets.

The Bells of Newtown

Bell Tower in Winter by Jana Illnerova

I heard the bells ring in the wintry air
And my thoughts trailed off,
Not to holiday cheer
But to innocence stolen
In a blizzard of bullets,
The carefully picked presents
Wrapped in red and green
Tucked away in closets
Never to be opened,
And the families who seek
Some semblance of comfort and joy
From angels who rest
Not atop the Christmas tree
But in the loving arms of God.


Written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Challenge Day 10 prompt, which asked us to write a suffering poem.

In Concrete

Photograph by Mary B. Mansfield

Looking back

On memories paved

In concrete,

Your footprints

Will always be found next to

The fragments of my heart.

Written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Challenge, Day 10 prompt of writing a suffering poem.

Waiting

Coffee Cup by Peter Griffin

Coffee and cigarettes 

Rest by my dormant keyboard 

As I await the arrival 

Of a long-overdue muse

To help blow the dust 

Off of my soul.

Written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day challenge, day 1 prompt of “arrival.”

Man in the Moon

Moon by Petr Kratochvil

I saw your face last night, 

Hiding in the shadows of the moon, 

Watching over me 

From the far off reaches 

Of the past, 

A secret presence offering 

Faint comfort to a wistful heart, 

And I can’t help but wonder 

If you've ever seen my face

Hiding in the shadows of the moon…

~~~ This poem was written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge Day 7 prompt, asking us to write a circular poem.

A Message from the Owner

Snow on Trees by David Wagner

I know you know I own this wood,
And yes, the view is awfully good
When snowflakes fall on wintry nights
On land where birches long have stood.

If you had only looked, you'd find
A wooden “No Trespassing” sign,
Hung in plain sight upon the fence
That serves as my dividing line.

From this day forth I would prefer
To keep my privacy secure,
So find another road to take,
But first, clean up your horse manure!


~~~  Written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge Day 8 prompt, asking us to pick a poem by a dead poet and write a response.  I chose to write to Robert Frost's poem "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening," tongue very firmly in cheek of course.

Write, Not Right

Journal by Junior Libby

For more than a decade 

Pundits have spoken 

Of the great right wing conspiracy, 

Those evil capitalists 

Lurking in the shadows 

Seeking to seize power 

Regardless of the cost, 

Heartless bastards

Fueled by greed,

Willing to sacrifice

Anyone weaker

To better shape the world 

According to their insidious schemes. 

I speak of a different quest, 

My write wing conspiracy:

A mission to illustrate my vision 

Of triumph and disappointment 

Both at a personal level 

And also on a grander scale.  

Words hold power, 

And one poem at a time 

Every poet possesses

The power

To change the world.

~~~ This poem was inspired by the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge Day 6 prompt, asking us to pen either a left poem or a right poem.

Just Beneath Her Surface

Girl Behind the Mask by Junior Libby

Just beneath her surface
Discontent simmers,
The secret sorrow
That fuels hidden tears
For her sacrificed dreams,
All hidden
By her delusive smile.


~~~~ This was written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge Day 4 prompt, which directed us to make the title of our poem “Just Beneath (blank.)”

Never Alone

Monster by Francisco Farias Jr.

In this realm
Of unnatural darkness,
Caution is demanded.
I know I am not alone.
I hear footsteps,
Perhaps a spectral silhouette
Wandering
In search of retribution
For the sins of the past,
Unseen voices
Swirling around me
In guttural whispers,
The frigid breath
Of undetected demons
Chilling my bones.
I see eyes glowing
In the pitch black,
Always watching me,
A solitary soul
Caught in evil’s sight.


~~~ This poem was written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge Day 3 prompt of “Write a poem that scares you.”

The Rogue Gods of Domestic Chaos

Socks by Peter Griffin

They send forth their minions
Who invade under the cover of the spin cycle,
Stealing socks and spiriting them away
Into the nether regions of the laundry,
Transforming cotton-woolen blends
Into wire coat hangers,
Those distorted instruments bent
On staging a clothing coup
And seizing control of our closets,
Leaving a path of disarray
Through our carefully constructed household bliss.

And that’s why you don't have any matched socks, dear.


~~~~ This poem was written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge Day 1 prompt of writing a matches poem.

The Worst Thing

Dramatic Sky by Vera Kratochvil

The worst thing
Was not the fire,
The weeks in the hospital,
Or the scars left behind.
The worst thing
Was not the secret
I was forced to keep,
The time spent without
The most basic necessities,
Or the bullying taunts
About out of date clothes
That reeked of kerosene.
The worst thing
Was not the betrayal of trust,
The bruises on body and soul,
The pain twisting through my life,
Or the loss of my independence.

The worst thing that ever happened to me…
I stopped believing in myself.


~~~ This poem was written for a prompt from Poetic Asides asking us to write about the worst thing that ever happened to us.

Drought Stricken

A Sunburnt and Thirsty Plant by Sharon Apted
image from publicdomainpictures.net

Hell descended upon the prairie, bringing with it caustic heat that destroyed crops and ignited tempers.  The earth cracked as all life-giving moisture vanished.  The natives prayed for relief but their dances around sacred fires only brought sweaty frustration.  Finally, one blessed day, the heavens opened and poured out renewing rains, restoring plants, people, and faith.

Drops of revival
After an extended drought
Can soothe a parched soul.


~~~  This poem was written for the haibun challenge at Poetic Asides.  You can find more information on the hiabun form here.

The Number

Old Telephone Booth by Jiri Hodan
image from publicdomainpictures.net

As the dusk faded away 

And the moon rose high 

In the midsummer night, 

His thoughts wandered 

To the faded phone number 

Scrawled in pencil 

On the back of a recipe card, 

Buried with the essentials 

In his rucksack  

But never far from his mind, 

A ten digit link 

To the life he could have had, 

The one within his grasp 

Until anger built a fence 

They could never climb.  

He could call that number, 

Beg to be forgiven,  

But after all these years 

He knows that number 

Only connects 

To an empty phone booth, 

No operator assistance available 

To trace love’s last call.

~~~ This poem was written using words from the Sunday Whirl a few weeks ago…a little late to actually link the poem up over there but still like giving them a bit of credit, great little community of writers!  I will be sharing this one over at Poetic Asides for this week’s prompt of memory poems.

Scarring

I don’t remember much about that day,
Just broken movie clips haunting my mind,
The orange glow of the flames in the back seat,
My tumble out the door onto the pavement,
The two women with the kind eyes
Holding me on the tiled counter
Next to the sink pouring water
Over my charred skin.

But the scars, those have stayed with me.
As a child they were all I could see
Looking in my broken mirror,
The grotesque bubbling of my skin
From my chubby fingers
up my arm to my shoulder,
So sure that everyone else saw
The hideous beast lurking
In my mirror just as I did.

Scars, at least the visible kind,
Fade with the passing of time,
And today no one even notices
If they do not already know they are there.

It’s the invisible scars
From voluntary fires
That still persist.


~~~ This poem was written in response to a prompt from Poetry Jam asking us to think about a personal challenge we have faced.  I’m also linking this up over at Poetic Asides for the prompt about memory.

~~~ Note:  The image I used with this poem actually started out as one of my senior pictures, with much editing added.

Playing It Cool

Fire and Ice by tfprince @ deviantART

A deep cooling breath to chill my blood
Trying to ignore the desire
Dancing in your wanton eyes,
Praying that my cold front
Lingers, but your touch
Sets ice on fire,
Betraying
My own
Heart.



~~~~ This prompt was inspired by a prompt from Poetic Bloomings asking for poems about betrayal.  The form is a nonet, written for the form challenge over at Poetic Asides.  Also linked up for Open Link Monday at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

Reunion

Dark Reflection by larafairie @ deviantART

I saw an old friend,
One long absent and feared lost
To time’s meandering path,

Location unknown,
An artifact from my past
Brought into the light once more,

A damaged woman
Whose healing and redemption
Was never a guarantee.

The fate of rash hearts
Is often desolation,
Eternal exile and grief,

But she has survived,
A renewal of the life
She was always meant to live.

Welcome back, old friend.
It’s nice to see you again
In my mirror’s reflection.



~~~  This poem was inspired by a prompt from Poetic Asides asking for a poem about meeting someone, also written for a prompt from dVerse Poets Pub asking for us to use the triversen form.

A Ritual While Camping in the Wilderness

let us shake off the dust 

of our civilized lives 

and dance naked in the firelight, 

arms outstretched,

only the nonjudgmental eyes 

of the moon watching us.

shed our inhibitions

and the shackles of doubt,

casting our fears 

toward the heavens.

drink of the power 

of the earth and cosmos 

and enjoy the freedom 

most only find in dreams.

~~~~ This poem was inspired by a prompt from Poetic Asides asking for poems about camp/camping. This also was inspired by this week's prompt from Carry On Tuesday.