October Promises

Poetry, Day Eight: Pleasure

From the tantalizing to the satisfyingly sober, have your poem convey a sense of pleasure today. Imbue it with joy, glee, and profound contentment — or, if you wish to keep it dark, write about the lack of or longing for pleasure in your life.

William Trost Richards

William Trost Richards

The Clunk of a chain

whispers, cries, please

the sweet scent of caramels

Halloween

 

The snap of a twig

the rustles of leaves

bones rattling from the behind you

Halloween

 

Shadows with cold hands

shadows with teeth

hiding behind you, above you, inside of you

Halloween

 

halloween5

How Sweet It Is

Poetry, Day Seven: Flavor

 

Light Pink Octagon

Light Pink Octagon

Sweetness is a thief

Sneaking across my tongue, lighting a fire in my brain

quietly

Sweetness is pink

fancy__dexter_cupcake.jpg

Sweetness lingers in the air

a cool breeze on a hot day

it is the glitter upon freshly fallen snow

Sweetness is pink

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Out Of The Blue

Poetry, Day Six: Screen

You’re reading these words on a screen. Screens — comforting, addictive, inescapable — are everywhere, especially when we read and write (and blog). Today, write a poem about, against, or in homage to the screens in your life. Or write about some other kind of screen — for example, the one stretched across your window, or the piece of cloth on which movies are projected at the theater.

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It chased me in my dreams

it chases me when I wake

Facebook

              why do you follow me

              into the bathroom?

Facebook

              why do you care what I eat

                                          what I wear

                                              what I think?

Are you a God?  A Devil? A Demon?

      You judge my harshly Facebook, you frown upon me, scold me

         When I chose to think

             for myself

                   or chose to be

                                alone.

Facebook

               You ask when I sin

                       when I vote

                           when I’m good

                                      and when I’m bad.

                                          Did I fly a Rainbow flag?

                                             Did  I weep for the kittens

                                                left in a bag, on a road

                                                    all alone

                                                         defenseless in the cold?

Facebook

                                                 Do you think you

                       are

                                 Santa Claus?

My Mom or my Dad?

                                           Because I  know you are not

                           I’m glad you’re not.

  You have

no passion

no Soul

housed

in your cyberbones.

Facebook

   I wish we could

pull your plug, cut  your cord

 live again

without

stating

repeating

endlessly

relentlessly

to the very end

of each and every day.

Facebook

How can we turn you off, turn you away, live for the moment

 without looking down

without looking away.

We can live out of the blue.

Facebook

we

existed

without you

before.

Bill Traylor

Bill Traylor

Think Happy Thoughts (or) I Get It Wrong Again

Poetry, Day Five: Imperfect

We find faults in ourselves, in others, and in the world around us all the time. Today, write a poem about the imperfect nature of someone or something, whether you accept these imperfections or complain about them, try to fix them or celebrate them.

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I want to be a Nightmare and fly from head to head

I want to be the night terror where you fall and wake up dead.

I want to be the vision that makes you scream and cry.

I don’t want to be the dream  that makes you smile

mourning03-Lo-Fi_large

Mars or Bust

Poetry, Day Four: Journey

Today, write a poem about a journey. You could channel your excitement about a trip you’re about to embark on (or just returned from), comment on the mental progress you witnessed someone make, or focus on the struggles, pleasures, and extreme emotions that travel can bring about.

nasa4

 

They are sending me to Mars

on a Ship that won’t return

I really don’t mind

the plan seems fine

I’m going to die far away from Earth.

 

Earth is just reminder of all that used to be

Nothing is the same and everything has changed.

Who wants to live in an open Grave?

 

Earth is like a lost love

you find many years later

she’s used and worn she’s hacking up her lungs

and

she

looks

and

sounds

like a car that’s been parked to long.

 

Mars is cold and dead they claim

but I don’t believe that’s true

the ground is red sometimes the sky is blue

Mars can kill you in a breath.

 

They are sending me to Mars

and I will never return to Earth

the plan seems fine

I don’t mind

dying far away from Earth.

 

nasa1

Ode To A Drowning

Poetry, Day Three: Friend

Whether it’s about a time they saved your life or a moment when they disappointed you, write today’s poem about a friend: a person, an animal, or even a fictional character that’s close to your heart. You could also address a group of people, or an object that represents friendship for you.

 

Paul Klee
Paul Klee

 

The boat we sank was old

trusty, rusty and worn

We took her out, we cut her deep

and we let her sink alone

 

One of us could have turned back

and stayed with her until her end

One of us could have watched her drown

but we closed our eyes instead

 

When the mist crawls from the Sea

and visits us in our sleep

We tell ourselves it was all dream

dawn will set us free

 

But the Sea was real

and she did drown

and we all watched her die

We stood safe, we closed our eyes

and denied our heartless deed.

 

This is our punishment, our endless nightmare now:

 

Our eyes will never open

We will never leave that shore

We will always exist  in that moment

when we let our friend sink alone.

 
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Muscle Over Bone

Poetry, Day Two: Face

For today’s poem, take a single face you know as your point of departure. It doesn’t even have to be a real-life, flesh-and-blood face you’re writing about. Faces are everywhere in the texture of our daily lives: from portraits in the museum to the banknotes in our wallets, and from billboards and street art to online profile pictures.

the-three-skulls

What we are is wrapped in skin

muscle over bone

We are our words we are our deeds

not

muscle over  bone

Vilhelm Hammershoi

Vilhelm Hammershoi

We hide behind our faces

our lips, our eyes our tongue

We are guarded, masked,  hidden

by muscle over bone

1866c Still Life with Skull and Candlestick oil on canvas 47_5 x 62_5 cm Private Collection