Poems for years 4 and 5 of the Promptly Poetry Challenge. |
A year's worth of poems, every week for 52 weeks, spanning 2023 and 2024, plus the year following, from August 2024 to August 2025.(provided I live that long, of course). |
Endgame The first and last, alpha and omega, so life plays out its petty dance, right to the end when breath comes short and every nuance snatched at, only to slip through the grasp, aged fingers awkward in their haste to hold the final moments hesitant, the sight now dim in fading light. Thus poor creature huddled in vain, resigned through long acquaintance, yet unable to loose its grip in final sigh, would say quite bold, “Yes, now would be the moment, smoothed by constant touch to familiarity and rest.” And then the life force, instinct, will, turns in an instant ferocious still, no, just one more breath, a second glance, before I go - it’s not too much to ask. Line count: 18 Free verse For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 14 2024 Prompt: Use at least three of the following words in your poem: stunning, nuance, colorful, last, first. |
Jackson Pollock Primary colour dribbled from the lip the tin tipped and dripping red yellow green blue struggling their random patterns painted pooling plastic paths pirouetting pastiche of explosive performance entwined one within the other and a thousand more wriggling in random writhing riot confused and silent cacophony and chaos of accident intended. This mass of shape and line coloured fresh and free is wild and even beautiful a design of energy and verve but art gagged and voiceless wall hanging without a cause. Line count: 16 Free verse For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 13 2024 Prompt: Quiet chaos. |
A Poem From Nowhere A good morning to the empty pristine page, awaiting its breakfast of magical words, and thoughts are aligning all eager and sage. But jumbled they are, all so dumb and absurd, the brain it’s not working, “Vacation!” it cries, I hunt for a subject but ev’rything’s blurred. the teevee is shouting and telling its lies, the coffee is weak and not up to its task, the hope I had early just dwindles and dies. I think I am beaten, I may have to pass - but wait, it seems I have succeeded at last. Line count: 11 Form: Terza Rima - Rhymed aba bcb cdc dd, 11 syllables per line For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 12 Prompt: Write a Terza Rima. |
Halloween At Last Poor little Johnny, who died only last week, he didn’t mind - he was ever so meek; but what really hurt him and made him feel sad, he missed Halloween and the chance to be bad. He haunted each night in the same old streets, wailing and moaning and dressed up in sheets. The other ghosts listened and they understood - poor Johnny was only expressing his mood. They came to him then with a clever idea, “You need a friend to possess and be here,” and Johnny latched on to his little dog Stan, who knew him at once and accepted his plan. Now each Halloween they go forth as one amongst trick or treaters and all having fun, from house to house and fast on their feet, go Johnny and Stan collecting their treats! Line count: 16 Rhymed aabb For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 11 2024 Prompt: Picture of a dog trick or treating in a sheet. |
Oh, Do Not Ask, “What is it?” Some things are so special, moments of bright sunbursts of awareness, scattered as mountain peaks in the foothills of life, high experiences that shine their crystal clarity and illumine the dark corners forever. To speak of them in hope of understanding is to demean the mystery, to drain the nearness of the divine with earthly care, the perfect light of that instant sullied with inspection and force feeding the replete. ‘Tis enough to say God spoke. Line count: 17 Free verse For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 10 2024 Prompt: Write a poem about a moment when you felt overwhelmingly joyful. Note: The title is a quote from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot. |
Posh Nosh King Henry, the eighth of that handle, said that nought could hold a candle to the steak bought with many a coin and he dubbed it right there as Sir Loin. And the Terrible Ivan, he swore that the food that delighted his jaw was not from the usual abattoir but the fish eggs he called caviar. Declared Emperor of China, the Ming, that the thing that made his bell ring was to bury the eggs for his lunch to give them that delicate crunch. But the king of the gods that was Zeus declared himself absolutely no use if his breakfast excluded the spectre of a walloping goblet of nectar. Now I’ve tried all these types of food and admit that I found them quite good (‘cept the eggs - they were too old and smelly), it’s bangers and mash that’ll do me. Line count: 20 Rhyming couplets For Promptly Poetry Challenge 5, Week 9 Prompt: Write a poem about your favourite food. Notes: Bangers and mash is, of course, the famous English dish of sausages and mashed potato (that also requires peas and gravy). And, this being a very English poem, I should advise that the word “nosh” is British slang for food. I take it that “posh” is well enough known universally for it not to need explanation. |
Water the drop depends on the lip of the tap sharp reflection of the world quivers above abyss Line count: 3 Form: Kimo For Promptly Poetry Challenge 5, Week 8 Prompt: Kimo - Israeli version of the Japanese Haiku, usually image-specific and acts as a still life, or snapshot, of a single moment. Three lines, syllable count 10, 7, 6. |
Week Monday rolls in, so full of promise, Tuesday arrives with the Pacific War, Wednesday is hump day and soon upon us Thursday is empty and uncertain, unsure, Friday senses an end to the book, Saturday brings more time for tea, Sunday falls softly with barely a look so goes my week from the land to the sea. This is retirement, the end of real work, day follows day, a cycle of time, habit the ruler, the vulture and stork, over and over whether sainted or crime. Line count: 12 Rhymed abab For Promptly Poetry Challenge 5, Week 7 Prompt: Use the following words in your poem: Monday, fall, tea, book. Notes: The poem is quite personal since it describes my week, not yours. Much needs explanation but I’ll explain just the Pacific War reference. This recalls the fact that my favourite YouTube vloggers release each episode in their study of the Pacific War on Tuesday mornings. It forms my entertainment during breakfast on that day. |
A Soft Day A soft day as the Irish have it to describe those grey days so natural to the British isles when the cloud comes down to meet us shrouded in gloom and dim light with rain so fine it falls not but inhabits the atmosphere soaking nothing but arraying our clothes with the diamonds of tiny drops held on the fibres miniature pinpricks of moisture and we swim in the mist creatures of the silent world coddled in chilly companionship grateful for the veil that hides our secrets. A soft day indeed and the mark that seals our souls with talk of weather as though anything but this gentle touch could steal our hearts. Line count: 23 Free verse For Promptly Poetry Challenge 5, Week 6 Prompt: A rainy day. |
Pumpkins Pale and protected from the sun, ghost pumpkins white await their fate, dreaming perhaps of Florida where their sickly hue might tan to burnished gold of bolder mien, or orange from the salon’s sessions, a brazen bunch of bulging beam, and ready now for Halloween with toothy grin and archèd brow, brain aflame with darkened thought, as evil creeps extended night, the world embraced by fearful dream. And so to reach their pumpkin calling, no longer wan and unappealing, but ghosts arisen from the dead with furbished claim upon their rights. Line count: 16 Free verse For Promptly Poetry Challenge 5, Week 5 Prompt: As per illustration. |