Today’s (optional) prompt is to write a concrete poem. Like acrostic poems, concrete poems are a favorite for grade-school writing assignments, so this may not be your first time at the concrete-poem rodeo. In brief, a concrete poem is one in which the lines are shaped in a way that mimics the topic of the poem. For example, May Swenson’s poem “Women” mimics curves, reinforcing the poem’s references to motion, rocking horses, and even the shape of a woman’s body. George Starbuck’s “Sonnet in the Shape of a Potted Christmas Tree” is – you guessed it – a sonnet in the shape of a potted Christmas tree. Your concrete poem could be complexly-shaped, but relatively simple strategies can also be “concrete” — like a poem involving a staircase where the length of the lines grows or shrinks over time, like an ascending (or descending) set of stairs.
Dew Drop Inn
Three Poems
About Filth and Slime
Slime
Slime
Slime
As far as I can see
Is that all that can ever be.
Mountains of foul, smelling dishes
Being eaten by drunk fishes.
Fast, faster, faster
Comes the slime
I wish that
I was eating a lime
Never want to touch this slime.
Morning Thoughts
One morning
While I sat drinking my coffee
And bemoaning my fate.
My brain decided to fly away to the land of bliss
As I sat drinking my coffee in the dawning light
Writing away my memoirs and dreams of love.
I noticed that my brain’s tissue
Had decided to take a vacation
And was crawling down my nose
And out of my ears.
Like some sort of cosmic mucus.
Down my slime encrusted back
And out the windows of my soul.
I was of course
Disturbed, I was perturbed,
And until I realized.
That I had no right.
To tell my mind what to do.
So I sat down.
And played a game of checkers
with my mind
Till the entreaty of time
passed me by.
Nothing but a piece of flotsam
On the winds of the universe
The walls fell,
The sky melted apart.
I woke up and sat down
And had an orgy
with my mind
Slime Patrol to the Dishroom
dishwasher
Note: I washed dishes in college.
Slime Patrol to the dish room, please
Rant the loudspeaker with a demented static,
Hell no, we chanted in vain.
No, where to go
Nowhere to escape
The ever-present smell
Of putrid rotting
sweaty effervescent slime.
That’s right
Slime, slime, slime, slime
Slime
Slime
Slime
Slime
Slime
Slime
Is that all that there is?
NOTHING
BUT
SLIME
Ruled by slime Kings who run Slime Machines?
Hell No, we won’t go we chanted in vain
And we hook ourselves up
And entered the machine
SLIME
PATROL
TO
THE
DISHROOM
Must get high
To deal with the slime.
The god damned slime.
Leftovers
From the plates
Of the elite college kids
Who ate in the cafeteria
Never noticing the workers
Laboring behind in the kitchen.
For them we are nothing
For we are all nothing but slime molds
In the gross wheels of America’s grease pit.
And they are the future masters
Of the universe.
And we are their future slaves.
Working in the slime pits
To feed them with slime.
Slime
Slime
Slime
Slime
Hope they die
From ingesting the pink slime
In their corrupted food.
Some day
The slime patrol
Will rise up.
And slaughter them
While they eat our delicious slime
Until that day
We will do our duty
In the forgotten corners
Of the universe.
Nothing
But
Slime
prompt: write about a hard job you have had.
PSH prompt
Writing com
Remix of the worst jobs in the world as Cherita’s Poems
.
-toll-booths-feature-imag
The worst job in the world
Must be toll booth attendants
Just boring as hell
They sit there all-day
Bored out of their minds
Waiting for the shift to end.
The worst job in the world
Must be toll booth attendants
Just boring as hell
Waiting for the shift to end.
2
bored train operator
Subway train operators
Subway train operators
Also, have a boring job
Nothing to do
Just waiting for the shift
To end.
3
visa line
Visa officers
Also, have a hard job
Saying no to thousands
Who lines up
Lying to the Visa officers
Who has the power of God.
After today, we’ll be three poems from finishing this challenge. Woot!
For today’s prompt, write a remix poem. Take one of your poems (preferably from this month) and remix it. Make free verse a traditional form or vice versa.
Red Wine Local Gem
bottle-red-wine-grape-corks
Red wine
Evening delight
Drinking it at sunset.
Wine makes the evening just fine.
If I drink too much wine.
Never again! do I cry out the next morning,
Eventually, the hangover is no longer mine.
All Poetry
workers
The Feeling of Hard Work
In my school days
when I was a younger man
I worked at odd jobs
To make my spending money.
I did everything
From lawn and yard work
working in the city parks,
Picking fruit.
.
Working at Taco Bell
Oscars
the University Pub,
To house painting
Door to door sales
Political canvassing.
To dish-washing
To work as a bouncer
And as a fry cook.
Juvenile probation officer
world trade intern
conference organizer
teaching ESL.
working as Peace Corps volunteer.
delivering newspapers
working with the Hubert Humphrey Fellows
Serving as a foreign service officer.
And I learned so much
From the feeling of hard work
How things feel to the touch
How sweat feels
On a hot day.
And in the end
The value of hard physical labor.
That was a valuable life lesson.
In and of itself.
Today we challenge you to write a poem that focuses on the sense of touch, and how things physically feel, rather than the other senses.
writing com Sight of Korean Food
sojuKorean Food
Like a lot of Asian cuisine
Korean food is a feast
For all the senses
The flavor is intense.
The aroma lingers in the air
The food is sensuous
Sometimes inviting to the touch.
But visually the food
Is a smorgasbord of sights
From the bright green
Of the seaweed and vegetable side dishes.
To the yellow colors of the turnips
and radishes
To the intense dark red
orange, and yellow
Of the signature dish, Kimchi
Occasionally white kimchi too.
And white rice
brown and black mixed grain rice
to absorb the bursts of flavors.
and white potatoes as well.
And the dark brown colors
Of the grilled meat
And sometimes blackened fish
And purple color sweet potatoes,
And the light blue color
Of blue fish such as tuna
And the pink color of sashimi.
And who can forget
The green frog on the soju bottle?
and the green and brown beer bottles?
and the white color of rice wine?
I have been drinking
Homemade Kombucha
For almost five years now.
Kombucha has a tart flavor
And an intense aroma
A hearty mix of fermentation
Underlying spices
Tea and flavonoids
We add pomegranate juice
Turmeric and ginger
To the black and green tea base
Mixed with ever growing Mother
Kombucha gets me going
In the morning
Great cure for a hangover.
And cured my seasonal hay fewer
And helps moderate my migraines.
We make enough
To have it every morning
And occasionally in the afternoon.
Takes about a week
To brew up properly.
The intense smells and flavors
Wake us up from our slumbers,
Revitalizing our spirits,
Making it a great morning
Pickup drink.
The only downside
Is our kitchen smells
Like at time
Like a homemade brewery.
Life is a Dream of Chocolate Covered Trees NaPoWriMo Prompt
Life is but a dream, my friends
A dream of chocolate-covered trees
For to see what can’t be seen
For to hear what cannot be heard
To smell life inside
One’s inner mind
Lost in inner space
For to live in order to die
And to die
In order to live
The second oldest poem was written in 1972 when I was 16
Our featured online magazine for today is Longleaf Review, which has been publishing quarterly issues since the fall of 2018. From their recent issues, I’ll point you to Sara Elkamel’s “A Bride for a Flood” and Jad Josey’s “Not Bruise, Not Eggplant.”
And now for our daily prompt (optional, as always). A couple of days ago, we played around with hard-boiled similes. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that contains at least one of a different kind of simile – an epic simile. Also known as Homeric similes, these are basically extended similes that develop over multiple lines. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they have mainly been used in epic poems, typically as decorative elements that emphasize the dramatic nature of the subject (see, by way of illustration, this example from Milton’s Paradise Lost). But you could write a complete poem that is just one lengthy, epic simile, relying on the surprising comparison of unlike things to carry the poem across. And if you’re feeling especially cheeky, you could even write a poem in which the epic simile spends lines heroically and dramatically describing something that turns out to be quite prosaic. Whatever you decide to compare, I hope you have fun extending your simile(s) to epic lengths.
Wednesday, April 27
When Time Stood Still Stood Pensively
time
Time is a strange thing
We only sense time
As a one-way thing
A path from the past
To the present
Into an unknowable future.
But scientist says
That time and space
Is all the same.
Everything is connected
Everything is everything
As the old song says.
In the end
We all end up
In the same place.
When our time
In this mortal plane
Comes to an end
Lyrics
Everything is everything
What is meant to be, will be
After winter, must come spring
Change comes eventually
Everything is everything
What is meant to be, will be
After winter, must come spring
Change comes eventually
I wrote these words for everyone who struggles in their youth
Who won’t accept deception, instead of what is truth
It seems we lose the game
Before we even start to play
Who made these rules? (Who made these rules?)
We’re so confused (We’re so confused)
Easily led astray
Let me tell ya that
Everything is everything
Everything is everything
After winter, must come spring
Everything is everything
I philosophy
Possibly speak tongues
Beat drum, Abyssinian, street Baptist
Rap this in fine linen, from the beginning
My practice extends across the atlas
I begat this
Flipping in the ghetto on a dirty mattress
You can’t match this rapper slash actress
More powerful than two Cleopatras
Bomb graffiti on the tomb of Nefertiti
MCs ain’t ready to take it to the Serengeti
My rhymes are heavy like the mind of sister Betty (Betty Shabazz)
L-Boogie spars with stars and constellations
Then came down for a little conversation
Adjacent to the king, fear no human being
Roll with cherubims to Nassau Coliseum
Now hear this mixture, where Hip Hop meets scripture
Develop a negative into a positive picture
Now everything is everything
What is meant to be, will be
After winter, must come spring
Change comes eventually
Sometimes it seems
We’ll touch that dream
But things come slowly or not at all
And the ones on top, won’t make it stop
So convinced that they might fall
Let’s love ourselves and we can’t fail
To make a better situation
Tomorrow, our seeds will grow
All we need is dedication
Let me tell ya that
Everything is everything
Everything is everything
After winter, must come spring
Everything is everything
Everything is everything
What is meant to be, will be
After winter, must come spring
Change comes eventually
Today’s poetry prompt is the quote below. Let it inspire you to write about the concept of time, or maybe you can write about what the quote means to you – the options are endless!
“Time is a created thing. To say, ‘I don’t have time is to say ‘I don’t want to.’” – Lao Tzu
NaPoWriMo Duplex
It was in September,
A date I shall always remember.
That I first met my fate,
She had been in my dreams
For eight long years
Then one day,
She walked into my life.
Last but not least, here’s our (optional) prompt. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a “duplex.” A “duplex” is a variation on the sonnet, developed by the poet Jericho Brown. Here’s one of his first “Duplex” poems, and here is a duplex written by the poet I.S. Jones. Like a typical sonnet, a duplex has fourteen lines. It’s organized into seven, two-line stanzas. The second line of the first stanza is echoed by (but not identical to) the first line of the second stanza, the second line of the second stanza is echoed by (but not identical to) the first line of the third stanza, and so on. The last line of the poem is the same as the first.
What is Justice, anyway? Dew Drop Inn
Statue of Liberty in New York isolated on white
What is this thing
We call justice, anyway
And why should we care
At all?
Those who have the gold
Make the rules
That the rest of us
Must follow.
And they call that justice
And justice is for sale
To those who have the green
They get all the justice they need,
Those that don’t have the green
Do not get a chance to get justice.
Justice is blind they say
A blind lady liberty
Who looks the other way
When the rich and powerful
Need justice.
The poor and powerless
Need not apply for justice
Is not color blind.
The color of justice
Is in the end green,
Those that have the green
Get it
and those that don’t
Don’t.
And that my friends
Is what Justice really means
In the land of the free
And the home of the brave.
Justice is for sale
To the highest bidder
That is American style justice
In the end it is all about
The “Benjamin’s :
Nothing personal at all
Just the way of the corrupt
Modern world we live in.
April 27—“Define” or “explain” something difficult, like a feeling or abstract concept…
Sam Adams Ace Detective PSH prompt
Sam Adams ace detective
Came upon the crime scene
He said to his deputy
“Fig stains on the white kitchen tile
had me wondering about
who or what had done the deed.”
Lets dig a bit deeper shall we?
See if we can find out
Who did what to whom
And why?
They did their crime thing
Dusted the tile for prints
For DNA for evidence
Talked to the neighbors
And visitors.
And found out in the end
That no crime had been committed
The fig stains were just that
Fig stains.
No one had died
The case was closed.
This poetry writing prompt submitted by Susan Taylor:
COMPOSE A SHORT LYRICAL POEM, RHYMING OR NOT, INSPIRED BY THE FOLLOWING LINE:
Fig stains on the white kitchen tile had me wondering about who or what had done the deed.
Is Our Fate Written In the Stars? Dew Drop Inn
scopio 3
I was born
Under the proverbial bad boy sign
In the western astrological world
Scorpio rules my passion
According to astrologers.
I did my chart once
It revealed that I was born
Under the Scorpio sun sign
In late October 1955.
My rising sign was Scorpio
As were Venus, Jupiter, and Pluto
Moon was in libra
Mars was in Aeries.
What does this all mean?
I had a powerful sign
And would it have a large impact
In my world.
Somehow that sign and chart
Spoke to me
As I by all accounts,
A very passionate, driven man
Filled with emotional intensity
In my dark blue smoking eyes
Or so my wife and lovers tell me.
I was also born in the Chinese
Year of the water goat
Also an emotional sign
According to the Chinese,
My wife was born
Under the year of the pig
And the sun sign of Gemini.
Our charts reveal
That we are
One of the few
Scorpio Gemini couples
That can make it work.
The signs are challenging together
According to western astrology
But when it works
It is one of the most powerful signs
Of all.
To the Chinese and Koreans
A goat =pig combo is the perfect combo
The goat man is creative and emotional
But foolish with money and practical life.
Not good at the whole “adulting” thing.
While the pig woman
Is the kind of woman
That can take a one dollar
And turn it into millions
Given enough time.
The goat man
Will enjoy a life of leisure
And love with his golden pig.
That too has come true
So I concluded
That there may be something
To this whole astrology thing.
After all, it worked out
For me.
April 26—Astrology or tarot—let a tarot card or astrological sign inspire a poem
Scorpio isn’t the easiest zodiac sign to read, especially since a lot is going on for them. One minute they’re wearing their hearts on their sleeves, and the next, they’re clammed up and secretive. This is what makes a Scorpio one of the most intriguing signs in astrology.
Many of us have been associated with at least one Scorpio; whether the experience was pleasant or not, I’m sure you cursed the zodiac sign at some point. While it is true that a Scorpio can turn into something quite unlike who you first met, they have a distinct vulnerability that only a lucky few can tap into or see, for that matter.
Scorpios brand themselves as misunderstood beings, with others not intellectual or deep enough to bother with. But the truth is, some Scorpios can let people in but will bring on a not-so-pretty side if hurt or let down repeatedly.
Scorpio Facts and Tidbits
Scorpios Always Try to Find Meaning in Life
Scorpios have an innate sense of what our purpose is, as humans. Life isn’t about work-hard-and-play-after for them – it’s about doing those very things with gusto, but also looking for ways to make life meaningful.
Scorpios Refuse to Give Up
Scorpios refuse to succumb to failure or accept defeat when smacked in the face with either. They know how to rise to the occasion and fight wars with ruthless finesse, where even if they lose, they know how to pick themselves up and move on. Some may remain resentful, whether this emotion is directed towards a person or a past event. But eventually, if the right thing comes along, they may finally move past what was.
Scorpios are Very Creative, Ambitious, and Quick Decisive
Scorpios are creative and can be quite ambitious if handed a project that allows them to exercise this trait. A job or responsibility that requires adroitness, decision-making, tact, and dedication, is where a Scorpio fits perfectly into.
Scorpios Do not Idealize Monotony and Settlement
Scorpios hate the idea of leading a monotonous, quotidian life. They seek to thrill and adventure in ways that only close friends or family would understand – we’re not talking about skydiving or bungee jumping (although, they’d love that sort of crazy stuff) – but things that invite excitement and pleasure, even if it is just another day of the week.
Scorpios Believe In Love That Equals The Conjugal One
A Scorpio is widely known to possess an insatiable sexual appetite, but not all of their trip and fall with eager anticipation, into the bedroom. Sometimes, they need that much-needed space to do as they please. When they feel the need to display acts of carnal heartiness, then yes, they can be quite… well, naughty. Most Scorpios will agree that for them, love-making needs the same kind of attention and work one would give in marriage. But then again, that ring’s true for all unions.
Scorpio Compatibility
The most compatible zodiac signs for a Scorpio are – Pisces and Cancer. In close succession, we have Capricorn, Taurus, and Virgo. Not-so-harmonious pairings are with zodiac signs, Aquarius and Leo. While there may be that rare case of either of the two making it with a Scorpio, the odds of such mighty signs coming together are rather slim but worth a try.
Scorpios in Friendship
Scorpios make great friends and are quite trustworthy when it comes to maintaining a great friendship. A word of caution, for those of you who are friends or in love with a Scorpio – they can be vengeful, vindictive, and unforgiving, but only because they were hurt by someone close.
Make one wrong move and a Scorpio will not be pleased; disappointment is not something they take lightly. Most Scorpios willingly hand over their hearts to someone, but it comes with a cautionary message – handle with (extreme) care.
Master/Mistress of Contradicting Moods
A Scorpio has the kind of mood that is only comparable to the weather; stormy one day, cloudy the next, and sunny the week after. Tiptoe around moody Scorpios like you would a ticking time bomb; they’re hard to read on some days, where the best way to deal with such behavior is to give them plenty of breathing room. Don’t probe, intrude, or ask too many questions – you don’t want to witness the wrath of Thor.
Scorpios Loyalty – Dreamlike and Addictive
Most Scorpios are impressively loyal; like what best friends share in the movies – the sort of stuff that lasts forever. Be honest and loyal to a Scorpio, and you’ll automatically be on the receiving end of those traits, and more. Just don’t mess with their feelings, because as pointed out earlier, revenge and a despisal heart are the only things that will surface.
Scorpio’s Bucket list – Excitement, Excitement, and More Excitement!
To be in love with a Scorpio means having the greatest time of your life. Every day there’s something cool to look forward to since Scorpios hate routine and anything that spells ‘bleak’. You’ll hardly ever bump into a drab Scorpio since their lives swirl and rotate around the good life. Anyone who has to keep up with one will know how exhausting (yet exhilarating) it is, to be around a Scorpio.
Scorpio – An Ocean of Emotions Beneath that Composed Exterior
Scorpios have the kind of intensity that can be endearing one day, but mortifying the next. This is because they have extreme qualities that can be a tad overwhelming for those closest to them – like being extremely emotional, possessive, jealous, angry, dominating, or dramatic.
Extremely Possessive and Powerful Beings
Those that they see as weak are in trouble since Scorpios tend to expect submissiveness without question. While the drive to be the best and on top may seem like applause-worthy traits, they can prove to be a Scorpio’s downfall, in the long haul.
Scorpios are a force to reckon with, what with their hardworking nature and determined outlook on life. Their passion and strength for what matters to them are reverent qualities no doubt, but it would do them well to tone things down a wee bit. These facts are just a smidgen of what a Scorpio is all about – the best way to know one better is to meet one.
President Trump and the Seven Deadly Sins PSH
trump
President Trump
Has been hailed by some
As the messiah
Others have denounced him
As the “anti-Christ”
It is clear that his actions
And deeds exhibit
All the seven deadly sins
That the church preaches against.
How then can a true Christian
Overlook that and see this charlatan
As a “Godly” man?
That is the one thing
I just don’t understand
About Trump
Why are so many so-called Christians
Following him as if a religious cult?
I mean it would be hard to find
A better poster child
For what a Christian should not be
How can any Christian follow
Such a vain, jealous, mean spirited,
debauched character
Is beyond my understanding.
As I am not a Christian perhaps
It is a Christian thing
I would not understand.
This poetry writing prompt submitted by Stan Galloway:
Choose one of the Seven Deadly Sins (pride, wrath, greed, envy, lust, gluttony, sloth) and use it as a starting point for a poem. The specific sin should not be mentioned in the poem, but its characteristics should be identifiable. Create a clear purpose for the poem.
True Love Story Writing com
Sam Adams often thought
Back on his improbable life story
Especially his fairy tale romance.
He met the love of his life
In a dream in high school.
She appeared while
he was napping
in class.
She was the most beautiful woman
in the universe to him
and she was speaking to him!
He yelled out
Who are you
But she disappeared
From his dream.
As he fell to the ground
Amid the laugher
Of his classmates.
Eight years later
He was living in Korea
He had gone there.
joining the Peace Corps
then teaching afterward
To search for her.
After she appeared
In a dream
And he knew
she was in Korea
waiting for him
that morning
he had the final dream
she told him
Don’t worry we will meet soon
And there she was
Getting off the bus
In front of him.
Two months later
They were married
And that is the rest
Of this epic love story.
For the fourth and final Two-for-Tuesday prompt of the 2022 April Poem-A-Day Challenge:
Write a love poem, and/or…
Write an anti-love poem.
Hidden Treasure Local Gems
pirate
Sam Adams was a treasure hunter
Working for Cosmos Ship Salvaging Corp.
Based in Miami, Florida
He was obsessed with finding
The legendary hidden treasure
Of the notorious pirate Black Beard
Lost somewhere in the Caribbean
In the 17th century.
One day at a rare books auction
He stumbled upon
Blackbeard’s secret journals
Including a treasure map
And he set out
To track it down
Finally tracking it
To Beque island
In the Grenadines
He and his crew
Went to work
And soon came upon the treasure
But also encountered the legendary curse
A black parrot appeared
Flew out of the grave
Denounced the grave robbers
Saying that they would all die
Within a week.
They held a press conference
Announced their findings
In the middle of the press conference
A terrorist blew up the building
Killing them before
They could reveal
The location of the hidden treasure
The secrets of Blackbeard’s treasure
They took to their grave.
“How Did I End Up Here?
You asked me
How I ended up
In this place?
I mean, I look
Like a reasonable
Responsible white dude
Not a violent thug
Am I right?
Well, my life
Went downhill fast
When I met Maria Lee
In that infamous bar.
You know, the Cosmos bar?
On Telegraph Ave
Down the street
from Mc Arthur Station?
Do you know the UFO place?
Been there?
Yeah then you know
It is filled with hot assed babes
Looking for a little side action
If you know what I mean?
She was a regular there
Stood out from the crowd
Just a drop-dead gorgeous
Korean babe, a real looker.
And I was smitten.
Until she laughed.
I would have happily
Married Maria Lee
If it weren’t for her laughter.
Maria had a horrid laugher
That was just so annoying
A high pitched crackling sound
That filled the air.
Like the proverbial chalkboard
Screeching sound
That got into your ears
And got stuck
Like a malignant earworm.
Her laughter was annoying as hell
And she was a beautiful gal
With a bonkers sexy devil may
Care personality.
Otherwise
We got along famously.
But I just could not get beyond
Her annoying laughter.
That sound made me
Want to beat her up.
Just to shut her up
You know what I mean?
I had to call it off
Before I was driven to murder
Due to her insane laughter.
It was the laugher
Did me in
In the end.
Got five to ten years
In this prison paradise
For the wanton killing
Of Maria Lee.
Last but not least, here’s our prompt for the day (optional, as always). Hard-boiled detective novels are known for their use of vivid similes, often with an ironic or sarcastic tone. Novelist Raymond Chandler is particularly adept at these. Here are a few from his novels:
A few locks of dry, white hair clung to his scalp, like wildflowers fighting for life on a bare rock.
Dead men are heavier than broken hearts.
From 30 feet away she looked like a lot of class. From 10 feet away she looked like something made up to be seen from 30 feet away.
She smelled the way the Taj Mahal looks in the moonlight.
He looked about as inconspicuous as a tarantula on a slice of angel food.
Today, I’d like to challenge you to channel your inner gumshoe and write a poem in which you describe something with a hard-boiled simile. Feel free to use just one, or try to go for broke and stuff your poem with similes till it’s . . . As dense as bread baked by a plumber, as round as the eyes of a girl who wants you to think she’s never heard such language, and as easy to miss as a brass band in a cathedral.
Who is My Muse? Dew Drop-in
“There is no architect
Can build as the Muse can,
She is skillful to select
Materials for her plan”
Emerson the House
My muse
Is a strange one
A strange creature.
That hides deep in my mind
Coming out mostly at night
Whispering words of wisdom
In my nightly fantastical dreams.
Fragments of which
Haunt my mornings
As I try to recapture
The elusive fading memories
Of my nightly movie scripts
That plays on in my mind’s eye
In my private cinema.
I don’t dream mere dreams
I dream movies
And the director of my movies
Is the ever-elusive fairy queen
My eternal muse of beauty.
As I write my poems
And stories
She takes control
Leading me down
Dark rabbit holes
Where I fear to tread,
Encountering the dark demons
And the wild things
Of my imagination.
Who are waiting for me
Demanding I pay
For my entertainment.
I smile as my muse
Negotiates a way home.
And I wake up
And see that my muse
Sleeps on in the form
Of my wife
The love of my life.
That is the power
Of the queen of my heart
My eternal muse.
April 24—Text—Use A Short Quotation In Your Poem, Embedded Or As an Epigraph
The super nonsense man
Appeared one day
In our land.
He appeared on TV, tweeter
Facebook and everywhere
Spreading forth
Across the virtual universe
infecting everything with
One nonsensical conspiracy
After another.
Everything he said
Appear plausible, reasonable
Even desirable.
But it was complete nonsense
Lies based on lies
Wrapped up in lies
Hatred and mind-numbing fear
THEY were after you
To destroy America
He claimed.
All his false words
Designed to deceive,
To weaken the mind
And the spirit
of the gullible.
Who soon begin
Believing everything
The super nonsense man
Sprouted forth on TV.
No one wanted to fact check
No one believed the truth anymore
That was so old school it seemed.
Super nonsense man
Soon took over the world
And became what
Many had feared
Just another con man
Off to grift as much
As he can
From the land
Of the free
And the home of the brave.
Before leading
The alien invasion
Enslaving humanity forever.
In the end,
It did not matter
We all believed
The lies of
super-nonsense man.
And humanity became
Just another failed civilization
In a uncaring universe
For today’s prompt, write a superhero or supervillain poem. It’s OK to write a poem about an established hero or villain, like Thor, Green Lantern, or The Tick. But it would be more fun to have poems about lesser-known (as in, you just invented them) heroes and villains. People like The Recycler, Dr. Dirty Dishes, or the diabolical Pie Bandit. Save the day; wreck the day; but please, write a poem
Life is an endless dream, my friends
Life is an endless dream, my friends.
A dream that has no beginning and no ending
That flows down the rabbit holes
Of one’s mind to dark dangerous corners
Where the wild things do roam
A Metaphor Write a poem that is entirely made up of one metaphor.
3 room press prompt (for April 24th)
The poet dreams lost in memory
While the secret architect
His fairy godmother, his muse
Dances about his head making designs
The Sun and stars shining overhead
The poet finds himself alone
Watching God singing the blues
3 room press prompt (for April 24th)
For the first prompt, grab any book at all. Flip to a random page and scan, making a list of ten or more words that catch your eye. Write a single stanza poem that incorporates seven as end words, for a bonus write a sestina (six lines) poem that incorporates all words as end words.
Prompt words from Emerson ‘The House”
Poet
Memory
Architect
Muse
Designs
Sun
Stars
God
Sings
I Remember Writer’s Cramp
I remember it was in September
A date I shall always remember
For on that date I met my fate
Met the love of my life,
Who soon became my wife,
With such an impact
Looked at her every morning.
Déjà vu moments abound
her love a mirror image
Of my love for her.
When I was in high school
I had my first dream
The dream changed my life.
In my fevered imagination
I saw the most beautiful woman
In the universe speaking to me
She was a tall Asian woman
I knew that someday
Somehow I would meet her
It was my fate
Became my obsession
To find the girl
in the dream
It took eight years
Before I finally met her
On a bus in Korea
I met her
On the day
I was determined
To give up
To abandon this mad quest
To find the lady in the dream
That haunted my nights
That morning she came to me
Said
“don’t worry
We will be together soon”
She walked off the bus
That night
When I saw her there
I knew that it was her
And she knew it too
Two months later
She became my wife.
That was almost 40 years ago
Every day I recall the dream
Of how we first met.
Today’s (optional) prompt is based on the Aisling, a poetic form that developed in Ireland. An Aisling recounts a dream or vision featuring a woman who represents the land or country /in which the poet lives, and who speaks to the poet about it. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that recounts a dream or vision, and in which, a woman appears who represents or reflects the area in which you live. Perhaps she will be the Madonna of the Traffic Lights or the Mysterious Spirit of Bus Stops. Or maybe the Lost Lady of the Stony Coves will address you. Whatever form your dream visitor takes,
Flies all green and buzzin’
In this dungeon of despair
Prisoners grumblin
Piss they clothes
Scratch their matted hair
A tiny light from a window-hole A hundred yards away
That all they ever get to know
‘Bout the regular life in the day
‘Bout the regular life in the day
Slime and rot and rats and snuck
Vomit on the floor
Fifty ugly soldier men
Holdin’ spears by the iron door
Stinks so bad, stones are chokin’
Weepin’ greenish drops
In the den where
The giant fire puffer works
And the torture never stops
The torture never stops, torture
The torture never stops
The torture never stops
Flies all green and buzzin’
In this dungeon of despair
An evil prince eats a steamin’ pig
In a tumbers right near there
In the chambers right near there
He eats de snouts and trotters first!
The loins and the groins are then dispersed
His carvin’ style is well rehearsed
He stands and shouts
All men be cursed (4x)
And disagree it, well no one durst
He the best of cause of all the woist
Best of cause of all the woist
He stinks so bad his stones been chokin’
Weepin’ greenish drops
In the room with the iron maiden
And the torture never stops, torture
Torture never stops
Torture never stops, torture
Torture never stops
Flies all green and buzzin’
In dungeon of despair
Who are’ll those people
That is shut away down there
Are they crazy
Are they sainted
Are they heroes someone painted
Someone painted
Are they -isms
Later ornated
Once they come they have been tainted
Once they come they have been tainted
Never been explained
Since at first it was created
But a dungeon and his kin’
Require naught but lockin’ in
Of any anything that’s been
Could be a her but it’s probly a him
Could be a her but it’s probly a him
Its what’s the deal were dealin’ in
Its what’s the deal were dealin’ in
An he stinks so bad it’s hurt
To the pearl and the piles of blast
Any dungeon has a trailer
Were the torture never stops, torture
Torture never stops
Torture never stops, torture
Torture never stops
Torture never stops, talkin’ to you
Torture never stops
April 25—Music—write a(nother) poem in response to a particular song or larger musical work (or to a jukebox situation connected to “drunken barroom layabouts” to quote Harlow Flick)
Broken Down Souls on the Street PSH
You see them everywhere
On the street
On the bus
On the metro
But mostly wandering the streets
Lost souls
Broken down defeated souls
The souls of the living dead
Dead inside
Waiting for death
To deliver them from the agony
Of the living,
They make do
They beg
They steal
They con their way,
Living the life
Living death
Broken Souls
You have two minds
One part of you
the fearful part of you
Conditioned to ignore,
Conditioned to walk by
Ingoing the tragic wounded lives
The broken souls all around you.
But part of you knows
That you cannot do that
But you can’t save everyone.
So you do what you can
You help those whom you can
All it takes is a little act of compassion
A little human kindness
A few bucks or a cup of coffee.
And you walk by
Knowing just knowing
That by a simple act of acknowledging
Our shared humanity.
You have made a small victory
And brought happiness
To yet another broken down soul.
And the fear
that you will be a broken soul
Recedes away
Not me never
Never will happen to me
But one forgets
It is a simple matter
A wrong turn in life
The wrong place wrong time wrong thing
And you could be the broken soul
On the street
Begging to be heard
Begging to be taken away
And so I walk on by no more
I will listen
I will talk to them
I will make a small difference
And in so doing
Avoid becoming a broken-down soul
Entering a Picture (Poetry from Visual Art) by Seretta Martin
Is it possible for a lesson to appeal to all ages from third grade through adult, beginner through advanced? Yes, this one does! I’ve taught it from elementary through high school, at museums, and senior centers. It stimulates the imagination in magical ways. The picture is a focal point for the poem to develop. The student has selected the image for some personal reason yet to be discovered in the writing of the poem. This lesson teaches attention to images, detailed descriptions, the senses, vocabulary research, and more. Sometimes it triggers memories or uncovers unexpected desires. The student’s imagination is stretched when prompted to crawl into the picture and become someone or something in that world. Start this lesson by using a projector to show and read a few successful model poems and show the pictures that were used. Read some of the poems yourself, then call on students to take turns reading. The model poems create excitement and show students how others have approached the lesson with stellar results. After each poem is read, comment on how the poet addresses aspects of this lesson. After writing paper and handouts are distributed, place a batch of pictures on each table. Give students 5 minutes or so to select a picture for their poem. Collect extra pictures so students can focus on the one picture that they have in front of them. You may want to also leave the lesson projected on the screen. Walk them through these steps:
Enter into the painting. Let your mind wander. Think about how you would describe it to a blind person. In your poem, you are going to paint a picture with words. As you write, pay close attention to details. Remember, a blind person needs lots of information to visualize the picture. What do you see in the painting? colors? patterns? figures? What do you feel? Write what first comes to mind. Does the art remind you of a memory? Does it remind you of a family member or a friend? Does it remind you of something you lost?
Describe the place (the setting) that you see in your picture. Is it a meadow? An attic? A candy jar. Your front porch? The edge of a volcano? Think about your five senses and use some of them for rich details in your poem. Describe smells, sounds, tastes, colors, and what things feel like to touch.
What is happening? Use action words. For example, perhaps the creature in your poem does some of these things: sings, growls, chomps, dives, leaps, flees, soars, glides, races, dances, or slouches. Make your poem come to life with colorful and unusual words. Avoid tired (worn-out words) that are overused and consult a Thesaurus.
What is not in the picture? Imagine what happened before, during, or after what you see. Crawl into the picture and become a person, animal, or object. Maybe you want to take a point of view as if you are speaking with someone in the picture and use dialog.
Now, ask yourself questions: Is my first line or stanza so interesting and grabbing that it will make the reader want to read the rest of my poem? Do I want to make my most exciting idea my first line?
Have I used words that paint a clear picture? Do I want to repeat any sounds or words to make my poem more musical? (lyrical) or to emphasize something?
How will you end your poem? Will you surprise us? Reveal a secret? Use an unexpected twist? End with a question? Do you want to leave the reader saying ah, or feeling sad, or what? Think of a unique title that makes the reader want to read your poem, but don’t give away too much of your poem in the title.
Time: 1 to 1.5 hours. More time allows for students to read and share their poem drafts and show their pictures on the projector as they read.
Materials: Pictures: postcards, greeting cards, pictures cut from magazines or calendars, cards from art galleries and museums, fine arts prints, etc., Thesaurus, projector, paper clips (To clip the picture to the poem at the end of the class session.) Posters of: The Senses, The Emotions, Worn-Out Words, Vocabulary, and Action Words. You may want to look up and print out model adult poems by famous poets such as White Wedding Slippers by Anna Swir, tr. by Czeslaw Milosz, The Starry Night by Anne Sexton, Cezanne’s Ports by Allen Ginsberg, Van Gogh’s Bed by Jane Flanders and Mourning Picture by Adrienne Rich.
Published in Poetry Crossing – 50+ Lessons for 50 Years of California Poets in the Schools, 2014.
Response to Watching the War Unfold Writers Digest
Every morning
dogs of war howling
For the last two months
I and millions of people
Have tuned into the unending drama
The trauma of watching the war coverage
In Ukraine as Russia continues their assault
Against their neighboring country
Their cousins as it were
Who dared to declare themselves
Independent from their former Russian overlords.
The world is amazed by the bravery
Of the Ukrainian people
And the plucky courage
Of their leaders
In defying Putin and his war machine.
Where this is headed
No one knows
But one thing is clear
In the end Putin and his evil
Will be defeated
Ukraine will recover
And the world
It will never be the same again
War has a way
Of changing things,
In unanticipated ways
And unknowable consequences
follow.
Once the dogs of war
Are released to wreak havoc
Against the people
Of the world.
The old song put it best
War has but one friend
The undertaker.
And in Ukraine
So many people have died
Becoming war ghosts.
Joining the corona ghosts
The gun violence ghosts
And all the ghosts
That are everywhere
these sad end-of times days.
their voices
crying in the wind.
For today’s prompt, write a response poem. Your poem could be in response to a popular poem by another poet, sure, but it could also be a response to a poem you wrote earlier this month. That’s how I’m coming at this prompt today.
God’s Confession Local gems
I was sitting alone in a dismal dark bar
In a godforsaken evil din of inequity
Somewhere on the lunatic fringes of society
Twenty drinks too sober
On the dismal wrong end
Of a Friday Night booze run.
Ended up in the infamous Cosmos Bar
On the bad assed wild side part of town
Over by the abandoned decrepit railroad tracks
I was surely heading down the highway to hell
As fast as I could drink it down.
Enjoying my lonely drink
Drinking by my lonesome self
With my partners
Jimmy Dean and the Walker brother
And his old Granddad.
Just drinking and hanging
With the Jack Daniel’s gang
Talking with Wild Turkey
and Evan Williams.
Yelling at the sweet young bartender
“Give me one bourbon
One scotch
And a beer”
She smiled as she always did
Had heard this request a thousand times
An old washed up smelly derelict
A crazed bum looking at me
With a thousand-year-old stare
Walks up to me
He begins muttering to himself
Nutty nonsense, crazy words
In a lunatic’s voice
He had the look
Of one possessed
By his own demons
That only he can see
Or hear
Possessed by a secret knowledge
Only he knew,
Despite myself
I was fascinated
By this lunatic’s tale
So I stopped him and said
“So crazy dude,
What’s your game, anyway?”
The short little dude
Stopped his insane prattle
Staring at me
With that thousand-year-old stare
Just another washed up
Crazed lunatic
Too many drugs
Some washed up LSD causality
Leftover from the ’60s
Too many bad nights
On the wrong side of life.
He looked at me
And proclaimed his story
He reared up
And filled up the room
And lifted the bar
On his finger.
And stared down at me
From the sky,
And said
Since you asked
I am God,
Jehovah, Allah
And a billion other names
The alpha and Omega
The real deal
The original dude of dudes
The Sultan of Swing
God of hosts
And the father
of that Jesus dude.
But no one knows me
Any more
No one cares
They think I am irrelevant
They think I am dead
They think I am a fairy tale
From some olden, ancient time
Some say I am dead
Others think I should be dead
That my work is done
I looked at him
Carefully now
And what did I see
An old man
With that lunatic look
thousand-year stare
But there was something else
He was crazy
Sure yes
But perhaps he was the real deal
I mean why not
Why would not God be
A lunatic wandering
around loose
Talking to low lives like me
In a bar on the highway to hell
So I looked at him
And invited him to share
His tale of woe
God tells me
“Well, it’s like this
Many a year ago
People believed in me
But one day
They quit believing in me
And they went on without me
As they left me
My powers got weaker and weaker
And so eventually I became
What you see today
A broken-down drunk
Hanging out
Looking for a handout
Looking for some company
Or at least a free dinner”
And he laughed and laughed
And I looked at him
And saw the beginnings of the end
And the ends of the beginnings
I saw a million planets
Flash by
A billion people
A trillion sentient beings
Thinking all at once
Cosmic thoughts filled my head
Lights flashed
And I knew
He was telling the truth
But it did not matter
In this day and age
Of materialism
God has no role
God is truly dead
And so I bought him a drink
And walked out of the bar
Profoundly saddened
by what I had seen
God was dead
And we had all conspired
To kill him.
The April Poetry madness is more than half over. I am determined to finish by May 1! (Given that the prompts I use are posted in the U.S. and that I am in KST time I will be finished April 30, 2022 EST), I have some other poetry publication news. Poetry Super Highway published my poem on visiting the holocaust museum for their annual Yom HaShoah issue. You can read that here
Sam Adams
Often thought
He had met his fate
On that date, he met his wife.
She walked into his life
The date he met his wife
Was the best day
Of his life.
On the date, he met his wife
He felt that was the beginning
Of the rest of his life.
And now for our prompt (optional, as always). In honor of today’s being the 22nd day of Na/GloPoWriMo 2022, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that uses repetition. You can repeat a sound, a word, a phrase, an image, or any combination of things.
Variations on a Theme Fate Dew Drop Inn Writing com Prompt
I have often thought about fate
And how and why I met my wife
The way I did,
For it seems
That we were fated
To meet,
That we knew each other
In a past life
And that our love
Was strong enough,
To overcome the barriers
Of time and space
That somehow her spirit
Was calling me.
Appearing in my dreams
For eight years
Until she walked
Off that bus
And into my life.
That is why
I believe in reincarnation
It is the only way
I can make sense
Of this improbable, impossible
Fairy tale love story.
Coffee Trinet Coffee PSH
need more coffee
Coffee
Just hot
drinking it at sunrise
Just right.
Need more
Strong Coffee
Right now!
Make a pot of tea or coffee in a clear glass pot or container. Pour cream or milk into it. Carefully watch cream or milk swirl into the dark liquid. Write about what you see and any associations with it. You could also try this with anything that swirls, e.g., water going down a drain. Have fun!
If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment below. #napowrimo#poetry
Lion King Revolts Writer’s Digest
lion
The Lion King
Looked out at the assembled animals
In the first ever worldwide parliament
Of animals.
The lion king chaired the conference
Which was called to discuss
The weighty issue
Of what to do about humanity.
Which was rapidly destroying
The habitat of the entire planet
Making it unfit for life
For any organisms.
The lion king recognized
His cousin, the Siberian Tiger
The tiger rose to speak
Denouncing humanity
As the greatest threat
To life itself.
He demanded the right
To hunt down and kill
All humans.
As enemies of the world’s ecological system,
Saying that Gaia was crying out
For revenge.
The animals all debated the question
Finally, the lion king turned
To the sole defenders of humanity
The cat and dog representatives.
The cat shrugged its shoulder
saying,
“Meh, I suppose humans are alright.,
They treat cats right”.
The dog made a passionate defense
Of their best friends, the humans
Saying that they were trying to mend
Their evil, greedy ways.
And deserved a second chance
as did all God’s creatures,
Great and small.
The lion king called for a vote
The vote was 250 to two.
The lion king announced the verdict
Saying,
All humans must die.
That was the day
Of the great animal revolt
That led to the fall
Of humanity.
For today’s prompt, write an organism poem. The cool thing about our planet is that it is loaded with a variety of living organisms, from one-celled prokaryotes and eukaryotes to complex creatures (like blue whales and rhinos). Write about several organisms, or pick one and make it the title of your poem.
Note: this is part of a series of similar magical realism poems I should put together someday as a collection.
Mentee Best JO’s Local Gem
I sometimes think back
When I was working
And think back
What sort of boss was I?
What impact did I have
On those who worked for me.
I had my favorite employees
And I like to think
That I was not that bad a boss
At least I was not
An evil SOB boss
Like some of the bosses
That I have known
That I was fair
Open-minded
And looked after
My employees
Making sure that they got
The support they needed
To do well in their career.
Poetry Superhighway will publish my poem, “Thoughts on Visiting the Holocaust Memorial Museum “On April 25, 2022. They had published my poem, “Never Again” in their 22nd annual Yom HaShoah edition in April 2020.
Dear Jake,
Thanks for sending work to Poetry Super Highway for us to consider for our 24th annual Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day) issue.
We will be publishing your poem “Thoughts on Visiting the Holocaust Memorial Museum in DC ” in this issue, which will go online Saturday morning (Pacific) and officially published during the dates of April 25 – May 1, and then forever thereafter in our Past Poets of the Week Archive.
Congratulations and thanks very much for participating in this special annual project.
Thoughts on Visiting the Holocaust Memorial Museum in DC Never Again -published in April 2022 20th Yom HaShoah PSH special edition
Other Holocaust Poems submitted
Holocaust Remembrance in The Trump Era Holocaust Remembrance in the Biden Era
Thoughts on Visiting the Holocaust Memorial Museum in DC
holacaust-image-webp.webp April 23, 2022
San Adams
Had never been
To the Holocaust Museum,
Despite the fact
He had lived
And worked in DC for decades.
One day after he retired
He said to himself
It was long past time
To finally see the holocaust museum.
He went the week
After Charleston,
When the mob had chanted,
Jews will not replace us.
The museum affected him deeply
He had just confirmed
Through DNA
That he had at least 10 percent
Jewish ancestry
Among the 18 other nationalities
Swirling among his bloodlines.
Sam Adams was concerned
Those elements of antisemitism
We’re emerging among
The MAGA crowd.
But he dismissed
The fears that Trump
Was another Hitler
As liberal hyperbole.
It could not happen here
A new holocaust
Would never happen
But now he was not so sure.
Neo-Fascism Must Be Defeated Again
candles
In this day and age of fake news
And neo-fascism rising yet again
It is important to bear witness
To the undeniable fact
That the holocaust can never come again
That is what we must vow every day.
Never again!
The rest of the poems I submitted follow:
Holocaust Remembrance in The Trump Era
105236391_gettyimages-967655408-300×200-1.webp
While touring the Holocaust Museum
For the first time in his life,
Sam Adams
Encountered three young white MAGA boys.
Wearing Red hats and making
Sexually suggestive jokes About Jewish women
While they were touring the Holocaust.
One wondered if the Nazi guards
Were given an opportunity
To have sex with Jewish women
Before they were killed
Sam Adams was very angry
And wanted to confront the MAGA boys.
But finally decided what the hell
It probably would not
Make a difference,
They might think that he was just
An old Jewish man.
And dismiss his complaints.
The Holocaust Museum
Moved him deeply
Because he had just confirmed
Via DNA testing
That he indeed was part Jewish.
Maybe 10%.
He wondered what happened
To his Jewish Cousins
He didn’t even know he had.
And he vowed to himself.
That he would do
All he could to make sure
The world would
Never see another Holocaust.
Holocaust Remembrance in the Biden Era
anti-fascist-2541058__340.web
Sam Adams thought naively
That when Biden was elected
That the US had turned a corner.
The Trump-inspired
Anti-Semitism, discrimination,
Fear, hatred, and xenophobia.
Would gradually
Fadeaway
As a dark memory.
And that Americans
Would regain a sense of compassion,
Decency, hope, and love.
And a sense
That we are all in this together
As Americans.
Unfortunately, Sam thought
The MAGA Madness had not gone away,
Perhaps it was getting worse.
He was concerned that the recent
Anti-Asian violence could spread
Out of control.
And underlying
all that racism and xenophobia
Was anti-Semitism
Sam thought
If Trump becomes president again,
There’s a strong possibility
We could end up
with another Holocaust.
Perhaps this time targeted against
Asians, communists, blacks,
Coastal elites, democrats, Drug users,
foreigners, Hispanics, Gays,
Mexicans, Muslims, and socialists.
Of course, Jewish people
Would eventually
be rounded up.
Underlying all racism
Lies a deep vein
Of anti-Semitism.
Sam Adams felt depressed.
Realizing the Magna Madness
Was not over.
And another holocaust
Another final solution
Could emerge.
As America embraced
American Style fascism
Under a resurgent Trump
Or his successor demagogue.
For more information, please see the following links
View the full schedule. Today at the Museum Programs and Activities. View weekly schedule. Museum Exhibitions Permanent and Special Exhibitions. Admission and Tickets Instructions for getting timed passes. 100 Raoul Wallenberg Place, SW, Washington, DC 20024-2126 View Map.
https://nationaltoday.com › yom-HaShoah
Yom HaShoah -. April 27, 2022. History reminds us of not only what has passed, but it also narrates tales of sufferings and victories, and this is why we celebrate Yom HaShoah, which takes place on Nisan 27. If the 27th is adjacent to the Jewish Sabbath, the date shifts by a day. This year, it begins at sunset on April 27 and ends at sunset …
Yom HaShoah 2022 – Holocaust Memorial Day – יום השואה … https://www.hebcal.com › holidays › yom-HaShoah-2022
Yom HaShoah 2022 / יוֹם הַשּׁוֹאָה 5782 Holocaust Memorial Day ️. Yom HaShoah for Hebrew Year 5782 begins at sundown on Wednesday, 27 April 2022, and ends at nightfall on Thursday, 28 April 2022. Yom HaZikaron HaShoah ve-laG’vurah (יום הזיכרון לשואה ולגבורה; “Holocaust and Heroism Remembrance Day”), known colloquially in Israel and abroad as Yom HaShoah …
Yom Hashoah 2022 – Calendar Date https://www.calendardate.com › yom_hashoah_2022.htm
Yom Hashoah for the year 2022 is celebrated/ observed on sundown of Wednesday, April 27th ending at sundown on Thursday, April 28. Yom Hashoah also called Holocaust Remembrance Day commemorates the lives of the Jewish people who died in the Holocaust of World War 2. This day is remembered in the Hebrew calendar on the 27th day of Nisan.
Yom Hashoah 2022: A Day to Remember | Touro University https://www.touro.edu › news–events › events › yom-HaShoah-042822.php
Zoom. The Touro College Hans Goldschmidt Institute for Human Rights and the Holocaust invites the community to our 2022 Yom Hashoah event for a day of remembrance. Survivor Maritza Shelley will share her story of what she endured in Hungary in 1944, and how she escaped to freedom with her family and eventually relocated to New York City in 1947.
Yom Hashoah 2022 ~ Justice After the Holocaust … https://www.torat-el.org › events › yom-HaShoah-2022-justice-after-the-holocaust
Thursday, April 28, 2022, 10:00 am – 11:00 am. Congregation Torat El is proud to co-sponsor the following Yom HaShoah program: Join Chhange for our annual commemoration of Yom HaShoah with featured speaker Eli Rosenbaum. Eli Rosenbaum is the longest-serving prosecutor and investigator of Nazi criminals in world history, having worked on these …
Please join us for two events on Thursday, April 28th to commemorate Yom HaShoah: 1) Resurfacing Memories of the Holocaust in Bulgaria and the former Yugoslavia Thursday, April 28, 2022, beginning at 9:30 am EDT
Yom Hashoah: 2022 Holocaust Commemoration events | Jewish News http://www.jewishnewsva.org › yom-HaShoah-2022-holocaust-commemoration-events
Yom Hashoah Commemoration. Wednesday, April 27, 6:45 pm. Congregation Beth El. Masks are required. Holocaust survivor, Dr. Al Munzer, is this year’s guest speaker. Born in the Netherlands in 1941, Munzer and his two older sisters were entrusted to two different Gentile families for their protection when their parents sensed peril.
National Yom HaShoah UK Commemoration 2022. Please join us on the evening of Wednesday 27 th April as Yom HaShoah begins, for an online, live National Holocaust Commemoration event, which you will be able to watch here. You can watch last year’s National Holocaust Commemoration, along with other educational content on our YouTube channel.
History Corner – Yom HaShoah 2022 – Temple Emanuel – Rochester https://emanuelrochester.org › history-corner-Yom-hashoah-2022
History Corner – Yom HaShoah 2022. By Carl Wetzstein. In the past, I’ve written about my experiences in the Holocaust and also spoke about Righteous Gentiles, people who helped save Jews during the Holocaust. The accounts of the Righteous Gentiles were second-hand, based on books and articles that I read. This History Corner is based on …
Yom Hashoah – Holocaust Memorial Day – Israel https://www.twinkl.com › event › yom-hashoah-2022
Yom Hashoah April 27, 2022 – April 28, 2022. Homepage » Teaching Topic & Event Resource Calendar » April » Yom Hashoah. What is Yom Hashoah? Yom Hashoah is the annual day of remembrance of the victims of the Holocaust. It is the Jewish Holocaust Memorial Day, observed by Jews worldwide.
I grew up
With lots of old friends
From the old neighborhood
Of Berkeley, California.
Many of whom
I am still in touch with
And some who have gone
On to other worlds.
One of my childhood friends
Grew up to be a criminal con artist
Conned me out of 500 dollars
Before I gave up on him.
Went to prison a couple of times
Last I heard from him
Was years ago.
He turned into a right-wing
Trumploving creep.
2 Used to Be
I used to be a U.S. diplomat
Served 27 years
In over ten countries.
Did a wide variety of jobs
In my life
Besides the diplomatic gig
I had a total of 40 obs
And four careers
Three colleges
Two Graduate School
One marriage.
3 Unanswered question
There is one question
That has plagued my life
A mystery I have no answer for,
How and why did I dream
Of meeting my wife
For eight years?
Did we know each
Other in a prior life?
Are we eternal soul mates
Bound to each other
Through eternity?
I have no answer
All I know is
That it was fate
That we met that date
And that made all
The difference in the world.
Today’s (optional) prompt is one I got from the poet Betsy Shall. This prompt asks you to write a poem in which you first recall someone you used to know closely but are no longer in touch with, then a job you used to have but no longer do, and then a piece of art that you saw once and that has stuck with you over time. Finally, close the poem with an unanswerable question.
Who is Jake Cosmos Aller? Aller
Who is Jake Cosmos Aller? Dew Drop Inn
Who is Jake Cosmos Aller? Writers Com
Who is Jake Cosmos Aller?
You may ask
And I may tell you
The truth, or maybe a lie.
I am a human being
Not a bot
At least the last time
I checked.
I was born
John Cosmos Aller,
Second son
Of Curtis Cosmos Aller, Jr.
And Mary Geneva Wilson Aller.
I was born prematurely
October 39, 1955
In Oakland, California.
On the same day
That Rock N Roll
Was proclaimed
In Cleveland, Ohio.
Coincidence? I think not.
I have 18 nationalities
Swirling in my bloodline,
According to DNA
And family lore.
I have a pan-ethnic look
Could be almost anything
I want to be.
I speak English, Korean,
Spanish, Thai, some Chinese,
Hindi and Japanese.
I am retired
I am a pensioner
I am 66 years young.
I am a real estate investor
Own ten pieces of property
In three states
and in Korea.
I was a diplomat
I served in 10 countries
Korea, Thailand, India
the Eastern Carribbean (Antiqua, Barbados, Dominica, Grenada,
St Kitts, St Lucia, and St Vincent and the Greandines) and Spain
During my career.
I have been to all 50 states,
three territories, DC
and 55 countries.
I have travel across the country
six times in my life
most recently in 2016,
I am a poet
I am a short story writer
I am a novelist
I am a blogger.
I play the piano.
I am a hiker
I am a walker
I am a hasher
I am a lover.
I am a card player
I am a reader
I am a TV Binger
And my name?
Jake is a high school nickname
Cosmos is my middle name
and my blog pen name
Aller is our German family name
Everyone called Aller, Ahler, Eller, Oller
Are related to me my uncle says.
Cosmos has nothing to do with me
Being a Bay Area baby,
But no one believes that story.
The truth is simply this
Cosmos is the English equivalent
Of our ancestral German family name.
My great grandfather wanted to use
The English equivalent of Aller
As a middle name for his firstborn son.
He had a choice of Universe or Cosmos
He picked Cosmos as Universe was too weird
In the 1880s Ohio.
But the most important thing
Of all is that I am a husband
To the same woman
Been married for 40 years.
I met and married
The woman of my dreams.
That is just some of what
Makes Jake Cosmos Aller
The one and only.
April 21—Explore a specific aspect of your personality, behavior, or identity in a poem.
Hi Jake, I think your latest “Who is Jake Cosmos Aller” is the best poem you have ever written in style and emotion. Awesome.
~~Tink
My Past Life PSH prompt
I have often thought
That I had a past life
And in that past life
My wife and I were together
And I often thought
That our love affair.
Began thousands
Of years ago
Perhaps in Atlantis,
Somehow though
Our love was always
Forbidden.
And so we were doomed
To have a passionate affair
That ended with our execution
Until finally in this life
The curse of our past loves
Was finally lifted.
This poetry writing prompt submitted by Linda Ann LoSchiavo:Imagine you had a past life and your poem wished to explain who you used to be. For decades, Jim B. Tucker, M.D. has been interviewing children ages 2 – 5 who have significant and precise memories of the adult they once were. For some inspiration, see the free previews of Dr. Tucker’s books, for example, “Return to Life: Extraordinary Cases of Children Who Remember Past Lives“.Often it’s the memories of a traumatic death that are most clearly remembered — but children have recalled the details of peaceful and ordinary lives as well: favorite pets, names of relatives, where they worked, a holiday meal, a special birthday, etc. List some long-buried memories and jot down specific details.
Circle keywords or phrases on the page. Use those to guide you through your new poem.
Past Life” poem to read: “Suddenly It Falls Away” by Karen Gibbons from Elevation Review
The Sound of Korean Writer’s Digest
Korean alphabet
When I first came to Korea
Back in 1979
I thought that Korean
Was the most difficult language
I had ever heard or studied.
I thought that
the sound of Korean
Was incredibly harsh sounding.
But somehow I thought
That it was also incredibly sexy
A language as were the woman.
I married a Korean gal
and we delight in mangling
each other’s native languages.
There were some sounds
That were difficult for me
To master to this day,
The aspirated sounds
Were the worst
The Korean equivalent of an L or R
Was halfway between the English L or R
The B and P were also halfway
Between the English B and P
The K and G were also
Halfway in-between.
Which makes it difficult
For Koreans to pronounce
Foreign words with L/R, B/P, of G and K
and my last name is particularly hard
for Koreans to master.
Another common problem
Koreans have in speaking English
Is consonant clusters such as nch
In Lunch
In Korean, every word
Consist of vowels and consonants
So Koreans will say in English,
I will meet you for lunche
after churche
adding in the final assumed vowel sound,
I dove into studying the language
And after about a year
I could carry out a basic conversation
And understood most of what
Was said to me
Now 40 years later
Korean is still an incredibly
Difficult language
It still sounds harsh
But also sexy at the same time
And now I am quite comfortable
With the sound of Korean.
For today’s prompt, write a sound poem. We’ve already done smell, taste, and touch; I hope you can see where this is headed. For today, write about sounds in general or home in on one particular sound. Keep your ears open today and maybe a poem will sing out to you.
The Feel of Korean Food Writers’ Digest
octopus on plate ready to be cooked,italyoctopus on plate ready to be cooked,italy
Korean food is a full sensory experience
Overwhelming one with smells, flavors
And textures as well.
One day back in the Peace Corps day
My best friend visited me
From Indonesia where he
Had been hanging out.
It was the dead of winter
15 degrees F.
When he got on the plane
It was 90 degrees F.
We bought winter clothes
Then I decided to treat him
To an infamous Korean disk
산 나치
san Nachi
or Live Octopus.
they brought it out
the octopus tentacles
were moving about.
I taught him
The proper technique
Grab it by the chopstick
Dip it in hot sauce
And chew it a long time
Sometimes unwary
Or drunk eaters
Encounter a problem
When the suckers
Get stuck in one’s mouth
Sometimes requires a trip to the ER.
The texture is slimy
And a big disgusting
Need a lot to drink
The first time around.
My friend tried it
But said never again
And we both bring it up
From time to time.
He was not a big fan
Of the 산 나치
san Nachi.
Never tried that again
But he did like
Other things we ate
That winter.
The Smells of Korean Food
Korean Food
When I first encountered Korean food
I was overwhelmed by the strong smell
Bursting with fermentation and flavors
Hot, raw, sweet yet sour,
spicy, in your face mixture
of smells and flavors
everybody’s Kimchi
is a bit different
yet they all share
A similar blend of
Alcohol
cabbage
chili peppers
fermentation
fish
fish sauce,
garlic,
onion,
red peppers,
salt
sugar
soy sauce
sometimes
made with cucumbers
dandelion
radish
springtime wild herbs
All rolled up in an intoxicating blend
Of smells and flavors
That was my introduction
to the lowly Kimchi
The staple of Korean food,
I soon became a kimchi addict
Craving its intoxicating flavor
And smells with every meal
Now 40 years later
I am still a kimchi addict
Enjoying the fragrance, the smell
And intoxicating tastes
Can’t get enough of that
Funky stuff.
For today’s prompt, write a smell poem. Strong writing uses sensory language, and one sense that is often overlooked is the sense of smell. So write about the pungent smell of teenage socks, the exquisite odor of fresh lasagna, or the coppery scent of a summer shower. Smell you later!
Taste of Korean Food
When I first encountered Korean food
I was overwhelmed by the strong taste, fragrance
And the strangeness at time of Korean food
Now known worldwide as K Food.
Hot, raw, sweet yet sour,
spicy, in your face mixture
of smells, textures, and flavors.
Sweet, sour, spicy hot with a nice
Lingering after taste
Bursting with fermentation and flavors
That is the essence of K food.
I tried it all
When I first got to Korea
43 years ago
It was just overwhelming.
Took a while
But I learned to love
K food.
A typical Korean meal
Is somewhat like a Japanese
Or a Chinese meal
But different.
Consists of rice,
A soup of some sort
Sometimes hearty stew
Lots of vegetable-based side dishes
Perhaps some eggs.
Everybody’s Kimchi
is a bit different,
Yet they all share
A similar blend of:
flavors and spices
That was my introduction
to the lowly Kimchi,
The staple of K food,
I soon became a K Food fan
Craving its intoxicating flavor
And smells with every meal.
Married a Korean gal
We eat Korean style
Almost every meal.
Now 40 years later
I am still a K Food fiend
Enjoying the fragrance,
And intoxicating tastes
Can’t get enough of that
Funky stuff.
For today’s prompt, write a taste poem. Back on day three, we wrote a small poem; let’s write about the sense of taste today. Of course, I’m thinking about tasting wine, cheese, or chocolate. But feel free to indulge in a person’s taste in fashion, cars, or whatever else requires real taste.
Mentors Local Gems
I had several mentors
In my life
Former bosses
Who taught me
The ropes
Made me a better man
A better boss
A better human being
Because of their sage advice
And friendship
Over the years
JS was my boss in Bangkok
Also my drinking buddy
Over the years
Learned a lot about Thailand
And SE Asia
JB
JB was my boss
In Seoul
Learned a lot about
Office politics
And what it meant to be
A black FS officer
Unfortunately, he died
In the Kenyon Bombing
CR was my boss in ACS Bangkok
Taught me all I needed to know
About how to deal with Americans
In trouble overseas.
He died of a heart attack
Years later
Just before we were due
To have lunch.
MO
MO was perhaps
The worst boss I ever had
Just a miserable SOB to work for
But later we became friends
I learned a lot from watching him
Especially what not to do
Whenever I had a management dilemma
I would say
What would MO do
And do the opposite
FP was one of
the best boss ever
I learned so much from him
He taught me so much about
Being an effective manager
TH was one of the best bosses
I ever had
He taught me the art
Of visa interviewing
And all that I needed to know
About immigrant visa processing
He too died of a heart attack
HT was one of my favorite bosses
He saw my potential
And became a mentor
Over the years.
to all those who mentored me
I will never forget you
and always appreciate
that you believed in me.
Sam Adams one night
Met some space aliens
In the Cosmos Bar.
The first inter-planetary bar
Located in Berkeley, California
A known hangout for UFO nuts
And assorted true believers,
Where the sign
proudly proclaims
Aliens drink for free.
The alien asked Sam
To explain humanity
To them.
Sam said,
Sure. Here’s what makes us human
We are evolved from tribal apes
From distant Africa.
Conditioned by our God
Created in his image
According to his will.
We believe in family values
Except for when do not
Believe in such values.
More importantly than anything else
Is the search for love and happiness,
Few of us ever met our soul mates
We are always looking for the one
The one that will make us complete,
The aliens smiled, Said,
Well, that was interesting
But there is one thing
We can agree on,
You earth people
Sure are crazy
The craziest species
In the known universe.
But you make the best brew
And the best coffee
And play the best blues
In the universe.
Sam said,
Thanks, I’ll drink to that.
Last but not least, here is today’s prompt (optional, as always). It’s based on Faisal Mohyuddin’s poem “Five Answers to the Same Question.” Today, I’d like to challenge you to write your poem that provides five answers to the same question – without ever specifically identifying the question that is being answered.
Dew Drop inn
Sam Adams Met His Fate
Sam Adams
Often thought that his life
Truly began on September 7, 1982
When he met his Dreamgirl
Who walked out of his dreams
He has been having it since 1974
She walked out of his dreams
Into his life
Two months later
She became his wife.
Sam thought
When she became his mate,
That was the date
He had met his fate.
April 18—April 18 Prompt: “Stop! In the name of love, before you break my heart!”—write a poem where love turns everything around somehow, or stops a course of action, or stops everything!
Based on my true love story. See “Dreamgirl” postings on my web page, Dreamgirl re-published
It all began in Berkeley, California
In the springtime of 1974
One fateful afternoon
I was sleeping in my high school Physics class.
I looked up and saw a tall,
beautiful Asian woman
standing there looking at me.
She was the most beautiful women
in the universe to me
I screamed out, who are you?
She disappeared
as if she was beamed
away from my dream.
I knew that someday
I would meet the girl
In the dream.
Little did I know
I would have to wait until 1982
Starting that month
I began having the same dream
Month and month and month.
Always the same.
She was saying something
in a strange language.
Then one day.
I had the dream
and knew that
She was in Korea.
So, I chose to go
to Korea
In the Peace Corps,
Somehow knowing
That I would meet her there.
One day
A year after the Peace Corps ended
A month before I planned
to leave to return
to the U.S. for graduate school.
That morning early in the morning
I had the last of these dreams.
This time I understood her.
She said, “Don’t worry.
We’ll meet soon.”
That evening
As I was getting off the bus
To go to my class
I saw getting off the bus
The girl in my dream.
It was she!
I was speechless.
I did not know what to do.
Throughout the evening
I ran into her several times.
Finally, I was introduced to her.
I muttered some lame excuse
About wanting to find a Korean tutor
and got her number.
The next day she came to the gate
At my base where I was teaching
ESL to Koreans
She said that she
had to speak with me.
I told to wait in the library
for about an hour,
and I would cancel the class
and meet her then.
We went out for coffee.
She told me that she was madly
in love with me
And simply had to have me.
I told her I felt the same way.
I proposed five days later,
And got married one month later.
Does she believe this story?
She claims she does not believe it
Because it is impossible to be true.
But I know that there
are other worlds and other times.
In a past life
We must have been together somehow.
And our love was so strong
That it crossed over the barrier
of time and space.
She found me in 1974,
But it took until 1982
For us to meet.
And it has been 36 years
Since we met in the physical sphere
Or 45 years since the dream began.
And I still recall the dream
And meeting her.
I had no choice
When I met her
We were fated to be together,
Until the end of this lifetime
And the next and the next.
April 18, 2022: Poetry Writing Prompt – jake Aller
This poetry writing prompt submitted by jake Aller:
Write a poem about a premonition of something that would happen in your life, that came true. What was the premonition? How did it occur? How did it come true?
Example: I dreamt of meeting my wife eight years before I met her. I knew that the dream was a premonition of a future event. and in that case, my dreams did indeed come true.
We the People Will Wake Up Soon
gun
We the people someday soon
Will wake up and demand
That the government and society
Stop the gun carnage in our streets
Enough, no more gun madness
The people have had enough,
The NRA and their stooges
Will continue to insist
That the solution to gun violence.
Is more guns for everyone
Only then can we be free
From the fear of constant violence.
The only solution is for everyone
To be armed to the teeth
With the latest weapons of war.
Then we will all be afraid
Of each other
And no one will take a chance,
That the other will pull out
A gun to end their dispute.
The people have had enough
They are sick and tired
Of the constant fear.
And they don’t buy the NRA lies
Anymore.
In short,
It is time for the people
To stand up,
And demand an end
To the gun violence
In our streets.
Politicians are a craven lot
If the public speaks loud enough
They will do something
To shut them up.
Until that happens
Every day
We will watch
Another day of massive gun incidents.
Just ten more
This easter weekend alone
as I wrote this poem.
For today’s prompt, take the phrase “We (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles might include: “We the People,” “We Want It Now,” “We in the Royal Sense,” and/or “We vs. Wii.”
“Don’t fall in love with me”
Sam Adams told his latest flame
Maria Lee
Whom he met at the Cosmos Club
In Bangkok, Thailand
She was a drop–dead gorgeous
Korean woman on the lam
From her husband
She smiled demurely
And said
“Don’t worry I won’t fall in love again
Already done that thing once is enough
But I could use a little loving
If that is okay by you.”
“Sure,” Sam Adams said.
Falling in love with her
Despite his spider–sense
Tingling red alert.
Today’s featured online journal is The Cortland Review, which has published nearly ninety issues over more than twenty years. In their newest issue, I’ll point you to Justin Janisse’s “Missing You, Expensively” and Grace Q. Song’s “Birthday.”
And now for our daily (optional) prompt! Today’s challenge is to write a poem that starts with a command. It could be as uncomplicated as “Look,” as plaintive as “Come back,” or as silly as “Don’t you even think about putting that hot sauce in your hair.” Whatever command you choose, I hope you have fun ordering your readers around.
Good Golly, Ms. Molly Rhyming Poem
Good Golly, Ms. Molly
Good golly
Ms. Molly
Let’s have some folly
And go to Bali
Or Raleigh
Someplace holly
strong>Where we can get jolly
Eating a tamale
Or a Canali.
April 19—Write a silly rhyming poem!
PSH prompt
Three poems about our times Legal
Three poems about our times Medical
Three poems about our time’s Energy
One the legal system faces challenges
In this day and age
Of fear of crime
Crime and punishment
Is everywhere
Hanging and lynching
No longer just historical terms
Judge and jury form the basis
Of our Legal systems
Based on Lies and truth
And justice is not free
Those that have money
Have justice
Those that do not
Face constant injustice
Two Medical Fears Abound
Every day I am afraid
Afraid I might get
The big Alzheimer’s
That took my mother
And my father-in-law
The dreaded cancer
That killed my father
And his father
Dementia that haunted my mother
Fibromyalgia that fills me with constant pain
Three Energy Blues
wind-turbine-11
The world needs energy
Needs renewable energy
Needs to get beyond
carbon-based energy
that is destroying the world
needs to end fracking
needs to end nuclear power
needs to seek the energy
of the future.
Look up an industry completely foreign to you. This could be anything: medical, timber, steel, tech/IT, cosmetics, coatings, pharmaceuticals, office supplies, etc. Pick one and generate a list of industry-specific jargon using a minimum of twenty-five words.
Pick three different industries, so your list is a minimum of 75 words (or phrases, phrases are okay). Write a poem that uses 1 word or phrase per line for the duration of the poem, however long you choose to make it. Mix industries! Write the poem in multiple parts!
This is a time-consuming exercise, but it’s a wonderful one because it so frequently spawns more than one poem, and the exercise is great at pulling writers out of their respective comfort zones.
Writers com
Writer’s Digests What’s Out There – Secret Societies
In Frederick Tennyson’s Atlantis (1888), an ancient Greek mariner sails west and discovers an inhabited island which is all that remains of the former kingdom.
Sam Adams, an old man
Recently returning to his hometown,
Was walking in the Berkeley Hills.
Ended up at Tilden Park
Where he had been hiking
Ever since he was a child.
He was hoping to getaway.
From all the turmoil,
The dismal news of the day
The constant chattering on his TV.
He was often lost in thought
Thinking back on his favorite books
Re-reading the classics
Of his youth.
He loved the Chronicles of Narnia
Often thought
That Narnia was real
That Oz was real
And that Middle earth
Happened as well.
And Harry Potter
Existed in an alternate universe
He imagined finding
Portals to other worlds.
While lost in thought
He came upon an unusual site
An open door in the air
With a note
Narnia is calling you.
He laughed having thought
About Narnia reality
All week long.
He jumped through the portal
Sam Adams disappearance
Remained a mystery.
April 20—Book report—subtly (or overtly) incorporate a book report or response into a poem about something else. (If you name the book, avoid spoilers!)
I like to start my day with a hot cup of coffee
I pound down the coffee
First thing I do every day as the dawning sunlight
Lights up my lonesome room
Yeah, but not just a simple cup of java Joe, but God damn coffee
I mean, – we are talking about an alcoholic, all speed ahead, always hot, always fresh, always there when I need it, angry, attitude talk to the hand Ztude, bad, bad assed, beats breaking, beatnik, bluesy, bitter, bitchy, bombs away, capitalistic, caffeinated up the ass, cinematic, communistic, Colombian grown, Costa Rican inspired, Cowabunga to the max, crazy assed, devilishly angelic, divine, divinely inspired, dyslexic, epic, extreme vetting, evil eye, expensive, erotic vision inducing, Ethiopian coffee house brewed, euphoric, freaky, freazoid, foxy, Frenched kissed, French brewed, funkified, foxy lady, graphic, GOD in my coffee, with Allah, Ganesh, Jesus, Kali, Buddha, Christians, Durga, Hindus, Mohamed, Jesus and Mo and their friend, the cosmic bar maid, Sai Babai, Shiva, Taoists, Zoroastrians, drinking my god damned coffee in Hell; growling, gnarly, happy, hard as ice, Hawaian blessed, high as a kite, hippie, hip, hipster, hip hoppy, hot as hell yet strangely sweet as heaven, jazzy, jealous, Kerouac approved, kick ass, kick my god damn ass to Tuesday, kick down the doors and take no prisoners, grown in the Vietnam highlands by ex Vietcong, Guatemalan grown, kiss ass, illegal in every state, imported from all over the god damn world, insane, lovely, loony, lonely, lonesome, malodorous mean old rotten, motherfucking, nasty, narcotic, never whatever, never meh, never cold, not approved by the CIA, not approved by DHS, not approved for human consumption by the FDA, not your daddy’s sissified corporate cup of coffee, NOT DECAFE coffee, not your Denny’s truck driver weak as brown water cup of fake coffee, not your establishment friendly cup of coffee, Not your FBI coffee, Not FAKE Herbal coffee substitute, but a real cup of coffee, not your farmer brothers dinner crap, not made in America for Americans, not safe for work, not your Starbucks average expensive overpriced crappy corporate chain cup of coffee, Not pretentious, Not White House approved, not State Department safe, nuclear, Not Patriotic, operatic, Peets’s coffee approved, paranoid, pornographic, psychotic, pontific, politically aware, rapping, rhyming, right here, right now in River city, rock and roll up the Yazoo, sad, sadistic, sarcastic, sassy, satanic, schizoid, shitting, silly, sexy, smarmy, smelly, smooth, snarky, snarling, stupid, stinking, sweet as honey, sweat inducing, symphonic, Trump can’t handle this coffee, vengeful, Wagnerian, wicked, with nutmeg and cinnamon swirls, with a hint of stevia, with a hint of vanilla, with a hint of rum, with a hint of whisky, with a hint of cherry, with a hint of fruit overtones, with a hint of drugs spicing up the coffee, spendific, speeding, splendid, superior accept no substitutes, survived the Vietnam war, the Iraq war, the Afghan war, the first and Second Korean war, World War 11, the war on poverty, the war on drugs, the war on black people, the sexual revolution, Soulful as a summer’s night in MOTOWN- James Brown approved, TOP approved, Berkeley approved, the coffee that Jimmy Hendrix drank before he died, the coffee that Elvis drank on his last breakfast, the coffee that Barry White crooned as he drank his cup of coffee – and the coffee that made the white boy play stand up and play that funky music, the coffee that made Jonny B Goode play his guitar, and made Jonny bet the devil his soul after he drank his morning cup of righteous coffee and the coffee that make the Rolling Stones Rock and Roll, the coffee your mother warned you against drinking, the coffee that Napoleon drank when he became the Emperor of all Europe, the Coffee that Beethoven drank when he wrote the Ninth symphony, the coffee that Mozart drank as he wrote his last symphony, the coffee that Lincoln drank before he was killed, the Hemingway drank before he killed himself, the coffee that started the 60’s, and ended the 20th century, the coffee that Lenin drank as he plotted revolution, the coffee that Hitler and Stalin drank with FDR as they divided up the world after World War 11, the cup that JFK drank before he was blown away, the coffee Jerry drinks while driving in cars with random celebrities and political figures, the coffee that Jon Stewart drinks before he goes on an epic take down of some foolish politico, the cup of Arabic coffee that Sadaam drank the day he was executed, the coffee that GW and Cheney drank when they bombed Baghdad, the Indian cup of coffee that Bid Laden drank before 9-11 and just before the seals blew his ass to hell, the cup of coffee that Tiger Woods drank with his mistresses while playing a 3, 000 dollar round of golf at Sandy Lane golf course in Barbados, the last legal drug that does what drugs should do, the cup of coffee that Obama drank when he became President, Vietnamese, Vienna brew, wacky, whimsical, Whisky Tango Foxtrot, wild, weird, wonderful, WOW, Yabba dabba doo! Yada Yada yada Zappa’s favorite cup of cosmic coffee, and Zorro’s last cup of coffee, Good to the last drop rolled into one simple cup of hot coffee
As I pound down that first cup of coffee
And fire up my synaptic nerve endings with endless supplies
Of caffeine-induced neuron enhancing chemicals
I face the dawning day with trepidation and mind-numbing fear
I turn on the TV and watch the smarmy newscasters in their perfect hair
Lying through their teeth about the great success the government is having
Following the great leader’s latest pronouncements
I want to scream and shoot the TV
And run outside
Shouting “Stop the world.
I want to get off this fucking crazy planet”
The earth does not care a whit about my attitude
It merely shrugs and moves around the Sun
In its appointed daily run
And I sit down
The madness dissipates a bit
And enjoy my second cup
Of heaven and hell
In my morning cup of Joe/
And now for today’s (optional) prompt. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that anthropomorphizes a kind of food. It could be a favorite food of yours, or maybe one you feel conflicted about. I feel conflicted about Black Forest Cake, for example. It always looks so pretty in a bakery window, and I want to like the combination of cherries and chocolate . . . but I don’t. But how does the cake feel about it?
PSH prompt
To Friends I Have Lost Along The Way
If you have been around
As long as I have
More than 66 years
On this planet,
You would no doubt
Lost a few friends
Along the way
And family members too.
I recall all my friends
Who have left this mortal plane
Spending way too little time
in my life.
I recall Demel Tucker
My high school black friend
From the debate team
Who died of AIDS
All alone in the end.
I remember Jon Weber
My Austrian born college roommate
Who died of prostate cancer
At age 45,
We had lost touch
Over the years
Last saw him
In the 80s.
I recall Paul Simon
Who shared the visa line
With me in Korea
Went out for a walk
One morning
Did not come back.
I mourn Chris Richards
My boss in Bangkok, Thailand
We were due to have lunch
When he died of an heart attack
That morning.
I recall Julian Bartley
My boss in Seoul
Died in the terrorist bombing
In Kenya.
I recall Judy
From my days in Mumbai
Died suddenly too soon.
I recall my sister Inga
Who died of a mysterious illness
When she turned 45.
I recall my mother
Who died of Alzheimer’s
And my father
Who died of cancer.
And there were many more
And sadly, many more
Will join them
Before I leave this mortal plane.
The curse of getting old
I suppose.
This poetry writing prompt submitted by Joan Fingon:
Prompt word: remembrance
In this exercise, focus on writing about a specific loss of a loved one or dear friend, recent or from your past. What is the essence of your loss and how might you express and honor their memory? What did the individual mean to you?
To inspire your writing be guided by these words as an example…
Country is a genre of popular music that originated with blues, church music such as Southern gospel and spirituals, old-time, and American folk music forms …
I don’t care for country music
Never had
Never got into the country music vibe.
Although I like to drink beer
Country music was just never
My thing.
Too rural white boy shit-kicking for my taste.
I always saw it as poor white trash blues.
And it has some similarities to the blues
In terms of themes and even sound.
Country music is not urban enough
For my taste
I like blues, funk, jazz, disco, rock music
And classical music best
Not too much into hip hop or rap
The country is my least favorite musical genre.
But the blues is so much better
Musically.
There were a few country singers
I liked
Johnny Cash is one of them.
But on the whole
Country music is just
A big meh for me.
Finally, here’s our daily (optional) prompt. This one may seem counter-intuitive, but today I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about something you have no interest in. This isn’t quite the same, I think, as something you’re indifferent to. For example, I have absolutely no interest in investment strategy. Anytime anyone tries to tell me about it, I want to put my fingers in my ears and go “lalalalalala.” My brain tries to shut down! This is honestly kind of funny, and I think this prompt has value precisely because it invites you to investigate some of the “why” behind resolutely not giving two hoots about something.
Jade Garden (제이드 가든 수목원) is an arboretum located in Chuncheon, South Korea. The garden opened in April 2011. … Jade Garden provides walk-through tours …
Jade Garden is an exotic arboretum established with the theme of “small Europe in the forest.” It was built on an area of 163,500 m2 by keeping its natural …
Why go here? Well, it has a different vibe compared to other Korean gardens. It has a European garden vibe. ALSO, Jade Garden is the filming location of Korean …
jade garden 6jade garden 7
jade garden 8 jpg
jade garden 9
Visiting Jade Garden
Nar Chungcheong, South Korea
On a beautiful spring day,
The cherry trees were in full flower
Pink and white petals
The scent of cherry trees in the air.
Other trees just starting to bloom
Red, yellow and white tulips
Beginning to bloom.
The sounds of spring all around
Birds singing
People walking about.
Talking to one another
As they wander the pathway
Taking in the springtime splendor.
The sun warming up
The pathway winding
Through the Forest.
April 15—Botany—explore the flora of your region! Somehow include at least 3 of the 5 senses.
Get exclusive merch, pick up a savory treat, and sign up to be the first to …
My favorite cheese
Has always been Tillamook
cheddar cheese
My father turned me
On to it
When I was a young lad
Once during our annual
Migration from Berkeley
To Yakima
During the summer vacation
Season
When we drove to the family cabin
And stayed almost two months
Just my father,
My mother
My two brothers
My sister
Our whole dysfunctional family
Forced to be together
For the summer
It was hell on earth
But the road trip
To and from
Was an adventure
One year we drove
Up the Oregon coat
And we stopped
At the Tillamook creamery
And did the tour
Learned how they made
Their famous cheese
And ice cream
Tillamook cheese
Is made in Tillamook, Oregon
A small town
Along the Oregon coast
The cheese is dark yellow
Comes in two flavors
Sharp and regular
I prefer the sharp.
It has a delightful aroma
And is among the most
Favorable of cheeses
I have ever eaten.
And it has an aftertaste
That lingers in your mouth
For several minutes
As you savor
The aroma, the taste
And the texture
Taking you to cheese
heaven
I was perhaps 13
At the time
And interested
In everything
Learned a lot
About cheese
That visit
But the most important thing
Was I learned
That was my favorite cheese
Tillamook. Cheese.
Still is
Almost 55 years later.
This poetry writing prompt submitted by Joan Liotta:
What does your favorite cheese–describe the taste, the aroma, its texture, and tell where you first tried it.
I am an Impatient Man Writers Digest
I am an impatient man
Always have been
Probably always will be.
My wife is always telling me
To slow down
To eat slowly
To drink slowly
To talk slowly.
And to be patient
But I just never
Developed the skill
To be patient
and so I rush
through life.
Eat too fast
Drink to fast
Love too fast.
There are some things
I developed patience for
Somethings
That I took my time,
It took me eight years
To get into the Foreign Service.
But the most important thing
In my life
I seized quickly.
When I met my wife
Who I met in a dream
And waited patiently
For eight years
Before she walked
Off a bus
And into my life.
I proposed three days later
We got married two months later
And have been together
For 40 years.
For today’s prompt, write a patience poem. Your poem could be about someone or something with great patience, or it could come from the other direction (ie, impatience). One fun thing about this prompt is that it begs us to consider the various ways of measuring time: From the patience required to sit at a red light to the patience of a tree growing rings for centuries.
Can Love Exist in this Corrupt Age? Sonnet Local Gems
Can love still exist in this corrupt age?
The answer is that love will find a way.
Life seems to play out on a stage,
All that matters is this, how we play.
For love and life is nothing but a game,
On that day, she walked into my life.
In the end, it all comes out to be the same,
Three months later, became my wife.
It was on that date in early September,
that she walked off a bus, no longer a dream.
A date I shall always remember.
When I saw her there, all I could do was scream.
I wanted to just scream out, I love you
Looking at her then, I knew that she knew.
It was in early 82, in September
A date that I shall always remember
For on that date, I met my cosmic fate.
For eight years I dreamt she would become my mate,
I almost gave up waiting for her it was late
But then that day she said in my dream to me
Don’t worry soon together as a we
This is just what our karmic fate that date.
And soon enough everything became great.
And no longer would I need to wait
For love came my way.
And now for our prompt (optional, as always). Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a curtal sonnet. This is a variation on the classic 14-line sonnet. The curtal sonnet form was developed by Gerard Manley Hopkins, and he used it for what is probably his most famous poem, “Pied Beauty.” A curtal sonnet has eleven lines, instead of the usual fourteen, and the last line is shorter than the ten that precede it.
French Press This! Dew Drop Inn
Every morning I get up
At the crack of dawn
As the sunlight fills my room
I make coffee.
Using my French press
To make what I call
A fully loaded cup
Of cosmic Joe.
½ Ground French Roast Starbucks
or Major Dickinson Peets coffee
½ decaf coffee
Yogi detox tea
Yogi blueberry slim tea
Turmeric
Cinnamon
Nutmeg
Cloves.
I boil the water
Bike 1 to 2 k
Then enjoy
My French press coffee.
I make two cups
Shifting to tea
Later in the morning.
April 16—Ordinary object(s)—explore the usual or unusual uses of ordinary objects
The World Is Broken PSH
Among the many sins
Attributed to the Baby Boomers
Is this
They Broke the world
And they do not know
How to fix it
Everywhere you go
It seems the world is broken
Homeless people
Forced to camp out
Everywhere
Gun violence
At a pandemic level
Yet government leaders
Aided by the NRA
Seem to think
The solution to gun violence
Are more guns for everyone
As gun laws are weakened
In many states nowadays
Anyone can buy a gun
Without a license
Training or any liability insurance,
Every time there is a gun battle
In the streets
Conservatives claim
That the solution
Is to have good people
With guns
Battling bad people with guns
Total insanity
Guns don’t kill people
The NRA claims
The price of freedom
Is not free
Everyone must have a gun
To protect themselves
Against criminals
Illegal aliens.
Government agents
And democrats libtards
Trying to force everyone
Into becoming bisexual
Or at least get vaccinated
So Bill Gates can track you.
Climate change
Is here and now
Monster storms
Massive droughts
100-year storms
Every year.
Yet nothing is done
Even though
We all know
What we must do.
To save the planet
And the human race
Inflation out of control
Supply chains are still broken
COVID although receding
Still lurking about.
Putin Invading Ukraine
Committing war crimes
While the US and NATO
Are afraid of provoking Putin
Who is threatening nuclear war
North Korean threatening Asia
China menacing Taiwan.
Meanwhile
Opioids crisis killing Americans
Gun battles killing people
COVID still killing people
Storms killing people.
Too many ghosts everywhere
Screaming out,
“You broke the world
But you can’t fix it.”
And we pray to a God
That may or may not exist
And does not answer our prayers.
Yes, we all share a responsibility
We all broke the world
And none of us
Knows how to fix it.
I hope that this
is not the end
Of the World
Although many days
It feels like revelations
Is coming true.
This poetry writing prompt submitted by J R Turek:
Write a list poem titled “Everything is Broken” but offer no solutions to fix anything.
The Feel of Korean Food Writer’s Digest
octopus on plate ready to be cooked,italyoctopus on plate ready to be cooked,italy
Korean food is a full sensory experience
Overwhelming one with smells, flavors
And textures as well.
One day back
in the Peace Corps days
My best friend visited me
From Indonesia where he
Had been hanging out.
It was the dead of winter
15 degrees F.
When he got on the plane
It was 90 degrees F.
We bought winter clothes
Then I decided to treat him
To an infamous Korean disk
산 나치
San Nachi
or Live Octopus.
They brought it out
The octopus tentacles
Were moving about.
I taught him
The proper technique
Grab it by the chopstick
Dip it in hot sauce
And chew it a long time
Sometimes unwary
Or drunk eaters
Encounter a problem
When the suckers
Get stuck in one’s mouth
Sometimes requires
a trip to the ER.
The texture is slimy
And a big disgusting
Need a lot to drink
The first time around.
My friend tried it
But said never again
And we both bring it up
From time to time.
He was not a big fan
Of the 산 나치
San Nachi.
Never tried that again
But he did like
Other things we ate
That winter.
For today’s prompt, write a touching poem. We’ve already done smell and taste; let’s move on to the sense of touch. Of course, all these prompts are open to interpretation, and touch connects many paths, including touching up a picture, touching down an airplane, bringing a soft or human touch to a situation, and even playing touch and go (or tag). However, in your poem, feel encouraged to put your personal touch on this prompt.
Easiest Thing in the World Local Gem
The easiest thing
In the world
Was falling in love
With you.
For on the date
We met in real life
After dreaming
Of the moment
For eight years.
I knew that I had met my fate
On that fine September date
And soon you became my mate.
A megadrought (or mega-drought) is a prolonged drought lasting two decades or longer. Past megadroughts have been associated with persistent multiyear La …
Aug 19, 2021 … Simply put, a megadrought is a period of extreme dryness that lasts for decades. Within that period there may be occasional better, wet, years, …
Feb 15, 2022 … U.S. megadrought worst in at least 1,200 years, researchers say. The drought also shows no signs of letting up, with increasing temperatures …
Sam Adams
Was an ecologist
With the Cosmos Institute
He was studying the decline
Of ancient civilizations
In North America
And concluded that
Humanity would soon face
A world in which its existence
Is doomed
As nature will no longer
Support such a large civilization
As climate change leads
To a mega drought
In the western parts
Of North America
And China and India
As well.
It would be
The end of the world.
Prompt The intersection of nature and civilization…
The future is coming and I can’t Wait for NaPoWriMo
Thinking about the future
I am excited
So many amazing things
Are about to happen
Dream and thought recording devices
Internet implants
Human-robot slaves
Self-driving vehicles
True AI Systems
Time Travel
Teleportation
Cloning
Growing new bodies
Life extension leading
To almost immortality
Lunar and Martian colonies
Development of space travel
Meeting alien civilizations
The future is coming
And I can’t wait
I want a robot slave
Maybe even a robot lover
And a new body
And I want to see Mars
And meet space aliens
And now for our (optional) prompt! Today, in honor of the potential luckiness of the number 13, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that, like the example poem here, joyfully states that “Everything is Going to Be Amazing.” Sometimes, good fortune can seem impossibly distant, but even if you can’t drum up the enthusiasm to write yourself a riotous pep talk, perhaps you can muse on the possibility of good things coming down the track. As they say, “the sun will come up tomorrow,” and if nothing else, this world offers us the persistent possibility of surprise.
How to Make a Perfect Smoothie Writers Digest
How to Make a Perfect Smoothie
My daily breakfast consists
of a perfect super-foods smoothie
Here is how to make
This breakfast of champions
In a blender
Put in Kefir first
Then powered collagen
Insulin powder
Honey
Cinnamon
all blended to perfection
That is my daily breakfast
Fit for a champion.
I often eat it
As cereal as it is so thick
Adding in cereal or oatmeal
and raisins.
2022 April PAD Challenge: Day 13
Write a poem every day of April with the 2022 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write a How to Blank poem.
For today’s prompt, take the phrase “How to (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles might include: “How to Win at Life,” “How to Cook Lasagna,” “How to Fall in Love,” and/or “How to Write a Poem.”
Covid Life PSH
covid virus
Ever since COVID hit
I have been laying low
Not going out much
Not meeting friends
But doing weekly zoom
With my best friends
That has kept me sane
Been doing a lot of writing
Lots of COVID poems
Featuring General Corona
And his COVID bot army
General Corona
Appeared to me
in a dream.
I fell asleep after watching
The former guy goes on and on about
Fighting a war against an invisible army.
And thought well
Every army
needs a general.
General corona appeared
In my dream
A tall black man
Dressed in a black general’s uniform
Riding the black horse of revelations.
With an army of imperial storm troopers
In black uniforms
Marching shooting ray guns
Filled with the virus
At everyone they encounter.
That is how
I coped with the COVID
pandemic lockdown,
This poetry writing prompt submitted by Gary Grossman:
We’re all tired of COVID but it is good fodder for poetry. Write a poem about how your life changed specifically during the pandemic. Did you exercise more, did you burn incense more, and did you read books that had been sitting in a pile for years? Focus on describing your mental state and how that translated into your physical state. Did your muscles ache from walking, what was the smell of the hand cream you used to soothe your skin? Did your partner participate with you?
If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group. #napowrimo#poetry
The series is set in the fictional realm of Narnia, a fantasy world of magic, mythical beasts and talking animals. It narrates the adventures of various …
Sam Adams, an old man
Recently returning to his hometown,
Was walking in the Berkeley Hills.
Ended up at Tilden Park
Where he had been hiking
Ever since he was a child.
He was hoping to getaway.
From all the turmoil,
The dismal news of the day
The constant chattering on his TV.
He came upon an unusual sight
An open door in the air
With a note
Narnia is calling you.
He laughed
Recalling his favorite
Childhood stories
The Chronicles of Narnia.
He always wondered
If the stories were true
As he always felt
The stories were.
He jumped through the portal
Sam Adams disappearance
Remained a mystery.
He left behind a tangled mess
Millions of dollars in assets
Scattered across several states.
The unexpected visitor from the Stars Dew Drop Inn
allien
One day Sam Adams
Received an unexpected visitor
Who walked into his office
Of Rebel news
Telling him he was a space alien
Who wanted him to explain
Humanity to him.
The alien had tried
To understand humans
The craziness species
In the universe.
Who believes
in some nonsense
About nonexistent gods.
But the one thing
He did not understand
Was love.
Could Sam Explain love to him?
Sam thought and said,
“Yes, Love is what it is
And love is what it ain’t,
If you are in love
You know it.
But those who know it
Can’t describe it
It is more than just
Chemistry, and biology
It is that but more than that
Love happens
When you least expect it.
When she walks
Into your life.
You know she is the one
The alien said thanks
For the lesson.
And drank his beer
Saying that humans
Make the best beer
And the best coffee
In the universe,
The Palaskian Conspiracy PSH prompt
The leader of Palaskin
Was being briefed
By his national security team
About Operation Disrupt Planet Earth
Their operative Donald J Trump
Had not succeeded in taking over
The number one country yet.
He was tormenting unrest
And his country was floundering
Operative Putin
Was doing a fine job
Preparing the world
for the Palaskinian
Empire’s invasion.
It would be time soon.
To launch the invasion fleet
Which will arrive
And reinstate Trump
And Putin to rule the world
On behalf of their Palaskian overlords.
They would finally reveal
That they are aliens
And the earth is now
Part of the Palaskinian Empire.
The Emperor smiled
Victory would soon be theirs
Long Live the Palestinian Empire
This poetry writing prompt submitted by Ellen Sander:
palish kin
A non-existent word. You decide how it is pronounced. Whether it’s a noun or a verb. Or someone’s name. Perhaps a country? A religion? Up to you, brave soul. Write a poem using what you determine palishkin to mean.
Writer’s Digest The Powers That Be – Who are They? (Revised)
Conspiracy craze: why 12 million Americans believe alien …https://www.theguardian.com › lifeandstyle › apr › con…
Apr 7, 2016 — But when people leap from thinking their boss is trying to undermine them to believing their boss might be a secret lizard person, they probably …
Watching the news unfold
Every day
I wonder who “they” are
The secret powers
That run the world
From behind the scenes?
There are rumors
That the powers
Of the universe,
The masters of the universe
The secret power brokers
Are not-human.
They are shape-shifting
Reptilian creatures
From the Palaskan empire
in Sirius, the dog star.
their agents Trump and Putin
we’re doing a great job
disrupting and weakening the world.
It was time though
Said the head of the committee
The committee does not exist.
That was the control tower
Of the alien conspiracy
Of the secret powers that be.
For the invasion fleet to arrive
And finish the job
Of enslaving humanity
A job that they failed to do
When they controlled Atlantis
And later the Roman Empire.
For today’s prompt, write a power poem. Your poem could somehow involve electricity, solar power, fossil fuels, wind, or water. It could illustrate a power play or someone exerting their power over someone else. Of course, you could also write about a power outage. You alone have the power to poem your way through this prompt.
Computer Blues (revised) Local Gems
evil computer
Sometimes I think
My computer is plotting against me
And only me
Trying deliberately to drive me mad.
My computer knows
when I am busy
Then it throws
A hissy fit.
Refuses to boot up,
and crashes constantly.
Loses data it had the day before.
Or five minutes before,
Or refuses to save the data.
Just fucks with me
As it loves toying with me
Making me yell and scream
At my damn computer screen
Cursing up a blue stream
of blue curses
As the blue screen of death
The borders across the dark blue screen
Smiling at me
As I beg it
To do what
It is supposed to do
Just once I beg it
Do what you
Are supposed to do
Open the document once
Not twenty times
Do “Not respond”
Endless spinning blue wheels.
In endless loops of opening
Not responding
refusing to close
Until I respond to the error code.
Please Mr. Computer
Quit playing games
Play my music, don’t wipe out the sound
On the fifth attempt to play music
Don’t take a half-hour to load Microsoft products
Don’t freeze up on opening music programs
Don’t give me computer haiku error messages
That only makes sense to a computer geek.
Such as general error reading files
Who the ***** is this damn general
And why is NSA reading my files?
Or can’t save the file
Or can’t save the “An open file”
When it just did ten times in a role,
Or kicks me out, while losing my data.
And in Microsoft Excel
Refusing to move the cursor
Just freezing in place for a moment
Before kicking me out.
Excell had a problem
Copying data from other sources
Generating an error message
About not being able to load fonts
Then asking you to say okay
Then kicking you out
Once I did that 200 times
I finally ditched Excel
And moved to Google Docs.
And all the other gobbledygook messages
That pop up every five minutes it seems
As the computer slowly drives me mad
Flashing the final insult
User-driven mad
Mission accomplished.
To show how much
You love someone
The way you glance
At your lover.
The way you laugh
At her jokes
You have heard
A million times before.
The way she smells
The way she eats
Her food.
The way she kisses
The way she makes love
Every time special.
Yes it is the small things
That matters in the end.
Today’s featured participant is a double dose again because you all are producing such lovely work that I’m finding it difficult to pick! In response to Day Eleven’s “big” prompt, we first have Wind Rush‘s quiet meditation on relative size. Second, The Silver Cow Creamer brings us a short and snappy quatrain in homage to a giant poppadom.
Our featured online journal for the day is Stirring. In their latest issue, I’ll point you to these two haibuns by Jennifer Perrine.
Today’s prompt (optional, as always) should come as no surprise. Yesterday, I challenged you to write a poem about a very large thing. Today, I’d like you to invert your inspiration, and write a poem about a very small thing. Whether it’s an atom, a button, a hummingbird’s egg, dollhouse furniture, or the mythical world’s smallest violin, I hope you enjoy your poetic adventures into the microscopic.
The haunted house in Eagle Creek PSH
ghosts
There is a house
In Eagle Creek, Oregon
That is an old mansion.
That is largely abandoned
Except for the owner
Who is over 100 years old
The house has several doors
That led to other worlds.
According to the rumor
The old man has used rituals
From the Necronomicon.
To summon aliens, banshees, bigfoot,
Cerebos, demons, devils, hell hounds,
ghosts, goblins, monsters, leprechauns,
Yeti and Zombies.
The gateway to other worlds
Open up
And they storm through.
From the deepest corner
Of Hell and Hades.
As they chant
From the Necronomicon
The ghosts of the dead
Haunting the old mansion
On the hillside
Outside of Eagle Creek,
This poetry writing prompt submitted by Frog Corpse:
Frog Corpse Writing Prompt:
Create a seven-hundred-word short story or thirty-three-line poem describing a haunted house. The story or poem’s main focus must bear emphasis on the details of the house itself. Explain in detail its architecture/landscape on what makes it stand out. What will make these details different from an average run-of-the-mill home? This prompt is to help improve set & setting when building the locations in your tales.
*Your characters are not the focus of this prompt.
I love You Let Me count the Ways Writing com
I love you
Ever since you walked
Off that bus,
Out of my dreams
Into my life
But why do I love you
Let me count the ways
here are a million
Different reasons.
But these are the most
Important ones
I love your smile
I love your smell
I love your walk
I love your body.
I love your
delightful, wicked
Sense of humor.
I love kissing you
I love making love
To you.
You are the best thing
Whatever happened to me
And I want to proclaim
To the entire world
How much I love you.
Write a poem every day of April with the 2022 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt (the first Two-for-Tuesday prompt of the month), write a counting poem and/or not counting poem.
The Sound of Temple Bell Brings Me Peace Local Gem
temple blog bell-zen
The sound of a temple bell
ringing in the crisp mountain air
in the Buddhist temple
deep in the mountains.
Brings me peace and joy
and fills me with happiness
as I contemplate
the meaning of Buddha.
And seek to find
peace
in the everyday life
around me.
And I ring the bell again,
wishing hoping for an end
to our suffering
on this planet of ours.
The first thing I do every morning
Is to make my morning cup of Joe
While watching the daily news
While writing in my journals
Waiting for my wife
In the morning
My coffee
Must be
Hot
And now for our (optional) daily prompt! Because it’s a Saturday, I thought I’d try a prompt that asks you to write in a specific form – the nonet! A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second has eight, and so on until you get to the last line, which has just one syllable.
Sam Adams Gunslinger in Wild West April 9—Persona—write a poem in the voice of a person who is Not You Dew Drop Inn, Writing Com
Gunman in the old wild west
Sam Adams was a cowboy
Back in the wild west
A badass gunslinger
For hire to the biggest bidder
Often working for the law
Sometimes working for the outlaws
He did not see much difference
He took the jobs
That paid him the most
Thought that if he did not do it
Someone else would no doubt
Sam Adams thought about death
As he shot those that needed killing,
Better them than him he thought.
Breakfast of Champions Smoothie Poetry Superhighway PSH
My daily breakfast consists
Of a super-foods
Smoothie containing:
Apples
Apple cider vinegar
Banana,
Blueberry,
Carrots
Cinnamon
Cherries
Coconut oil
Kale
Homemade kefir
Honey
Oranges
Macca root
Pineapple,
Raspberry
Stevia
Strawberry,
Spinach
Walnuts
Wheatgrass
All blended to perfection
That is my daily breakfast
Fit for a champion.
Write a poem based on a recipe. It can be an actual recipe for food or it can be a recipe for something else entirely. Ferlinghetti wrote a recipe for happiness. I have a poem called “How to Make Meatballs” that has the meatball recipe in it.
If you write a poem from this prompt, post a comment on the PSH Facebook page. For some reason, this has been my most popular poem on All Poetry, go figure.
Jan 10, 2022 … A slew of recent opinion polls shows a significant minority of Americans at ease with the idea of violence against the government. Even talk of …
And a poll conducted last June by Rasmussen Reports found that 31 percent of probable US voters surveyed believe “it’s likely that the United States will …
Sep 16, 2021 … A 2021 national survey by pollster John Zogby found a plurality of Americans (46%) believed a future civil war was likely, 43% felt it was …
Jan 6, 2022 … A “minor armed conflict” is one that kills at least 25 people a year. By this definition, as Marche argues, “America is already in a state of …
Jan 11, 2022 … If America has another civil war, it is more likely to be a war within the states than between them. Citizens of any state of any size, …
Jan 11, 2022 … A Zogby poll in the fall found that 46 percent of Americans think the country is headed for another civil war. In late December, a survey by …
Feb 11, 2022 … America is always on the verge of a second Civil War, according to one pundit or another. Such heated claims have become especially popular …
Mar 20, 2022 … “They believe a second civil war is coming, and they are looking forward to that civil war.” A year after January 6, 2021, there’s little doubt …
The “Second American Civil War” is an umbrella term used by some academics to reclassify historical eras of significant political violence in the United …
Jan 19, 2022 … The last few decades laid the groundwork for our accelerating polarization and tribalization, and now, America’s political Left and Right no …
Note: I explore this topic in my unpublished novel, “the Great Divorce”. My feeling is that it is a possibility, although more likely the U.S. will evolve into ten or more regional governments, that will largely take over the responsibilities of the increasingly dysfunctional Federal government. and I could see the breaking up of big states into mini-federations, such as five mini-states in California, Upstate NYC vs NYC metro, and of course Washington DC, VI, PR, Gaum/Samoa/Micronesia all becoming states, and Canada dissolving as well ,with Canadian provinces joining various sub-federations in the New North American union. Now the poem:
In this day and age
Of deep partisan divide
Into the blue and red states.
And open talk among both
The right and left
Of a possible second civil war
Commonly called Civil War 2.0.
Is it conceivable that
The United States will break up
Into new nation-states?
If so, what would be
The new nations
of North America?
Will there be a Christian States of America/Canada?
With a new capital perhaps in Omaha?
Will there be a Northwest Pacific States of America/Canada?
Will there be a Southwest Pacific States of America/Mexico?
Will there be a Great Lakes States of America/Canada?
Will there be a great Utah?
Will Texas emerge as the Lone Star Republic?
Will there be a Pacific Islands Federation including
Perhaps the PI?
Will there be the Native State of America?
Spread-out, embedded in the other states?
Will, there be a French Speaking America
Based in Quebec but uniting French speaking
States, and countries including Haiti,
Dominica, St Lucia, Guadeloupe, and Martinique?
Will there be Caribbean Federation based in Miami?
Will Guam, PR, Micronesia, Washington DC, and VI
become states in one of the new nations?
I don’t have an answer
A lot will depend
In the coming few years.
But if I had to bet
I would bet that somehow
The United States will stay together
Just too difficult to break apart
Into new nation-states.
But new federalism might emerge
With regional governments taking
More responsibilities
From the Federal government
And State governments as well.
Overtime the new regional governments
Might supplant the federal government,
Leading to a new arrangement
Without the drama of another civil war.
For today’s prompt, write a breaking poem. The poem could be about breaking down walls, break dancing, breaking up, or breaking stuff. However, you’d like to break it down and then write your poem.
What ‘They” Never Tell Us Conspiracy Writer’s Digest
May 14, 2020 … The Prophecies of Q. American conspiracy theories are entering a dangerous new phase. By Adrienne LaFrance. Illustrations by Arsh Raziuddin.
Watching the news unfold
Every day
I wonder what “they”
The secret powers
Behind the news
Are not telling us.
For starters,
Are their aliens?
Are they secretly in charge?
Is climate change
Going to doom us all?
Do they have a plan?
Is there a plot
To reinstate the former guy.
If so when and how?
Is Q telling the truth?
Is there a secret cabal
Of cannibalistic pedophiles
Satanists running the government
And society?
Was the last election stolen?
If so, how, and why?
And did Trump win?
Finally, is there a plot
To invent cloning.
And if so, when can I
Get in line for a new body.
There is just so much
That “They” are not
Telling us.
For today’s prompt, write what they never tell you in a poem. I’m not sure who “they” are, but “they” talk a lot, and there are things people tell you, and there are things you just have to learn on your own, because “they” (them again) never tell you ahead of time. Like, for instance, “they” never told me that I’d still feel like a teenager in my 40s, but here we are. Think about what “they” never tell (or told) you, and write that poem.
Local gem: Second Chances Everyone deserves a second chance. Write a poem of about second chances. Second Chances
Local gem: Second Chances Everyone deserves a second chance. Write a poem of about second chances. Sam Adams
Sam Adams
Was a man who had
Numerous second, third, fourth
Fifth chances in life.
He failed first grade
Failed courses in high school
And college.
Went to three colleges
Before he finally graduated
On his third chance.
Failed in his career
Never advanced as far
As he wanted to.
But in the end
There was one thing
He did right
On the first try.
When he met his wife
He did not hesitate
Proposed in three days.
Did not want to take
A second chance
On happiness.
Sunday, Day 10, April 10
Where Do You and I Begin NaPoWriMo
(reviously published)
I woke up one day and realized
I no longer knew
where you and I began
and where you and I ended
we had become almost one
We talked in half sentences
Knowing what the other wanted
and knowing how it would end
We ate the same foods with some resistance
because I still crave an old-fashioned American meal
but still, we were becoming more and more the same
and I feared losing myself
In your embrace
and becoming you
and you becoming me
and this fear of losing me
in the ocean of us
overwhelms me at times
but I know I will always
Return to your arms
because I cannot live
A moment without you at my side
and I know you are the same
we feel each other’s inner pain
we feel each other’s outer pain
and our history has merged
into one
and is that not the secret
of a long marriage?
Have I figured it all out
in the end, does it come to this
a merging of two souls and two bodies?
I don’t have the answers
But I don’t have any more doubts
or regrets with the path I have taken
I still look forward
to waking up each morning
Seeing you there
and knowing that every day
we have together
is a gift that I will cherish
Until my dying breath
Today’s (optional) prompt is pretty simple – a love poem! If you’re having trouble getting into the right mood for a love poem, maybe you’ll find inspiration in one of my favorites, June Jordan’s “Poem for Haruko.”
The Unicorn General Conquers the World Dew Drop Inn
A unicorn silhouette in a galaxy nebula cloud. Raster illustration.
Sam Adams
was a paranormal researcher
he was searching
for mystical creatures
that he was sure
still existed somewhere.
The banshees, bigfoot, the centaurs,
the demons, the dragons, the giants,
the hellhounds, the minitours, the leprechauns.
The snowmen, the unicorns, and yeti.
Sam Adams found a book
the legendary infamous necormicron.
Which many had dismissed
as nothing but a story
by Lovecraft and his fellow
demented writers.
Chanting from the book,
He opened the door
the first through
was the king of the unicorns.
He brought with him
thousands of his followers
who launched a war
against the modern world.
The unicorn and his army
quickly overwhelmed the world
appointed Sam Adams
as their ambassador,
the unicorn smiled
at his victory
it had been a long time
living in exile
in the other dimensions.
April 10—Free day—a topic or focus of your choosing! (And this might be free verse, too! Or not! Exercise your free will!)
Too Much Stuff PSH
I have too much stuff
Too many things bought
Over the years
Too many books
Too many records
Too many kitchen gadgets.
Too many khachkars
From all over the world
Too much artwork,
Too many clothes
Just too much stuff.
Since I live abroad
If I die overseas
Most of what I have
Will be thrown away.
We are getting rid
Of somethings
Along the way.
Donated some books
To the Army library
Might downsize some
Of my library,
Maybe sell it
To a used English
language bookstore.
My record collection
Will be given
To my younger brother-in-law
Who can sell it off?
The artwork
The kitchen stuff
The clothes
Probably will stay
With me.
Some may go
With me, if I ever
Return home.
But I doubt anyone
Will pay to ship things back
Just the way it is
Being an aging ex-pat.
Write about your knick-knacks, your tchotchkes, and your Dollar Store finds. Explain why you can’t quit buying them, and what you think your heirs will do with them when you die.
Taste of Korean Food Korea Writer’s Digest
kimchi
When I first encountered Korean food
I was overwhelmed by the strong taste, fragrance
And the strangeness at time of Korean food
Now known worldwide as K Food.
Hot, raw, sweet yet sour,
spicy, in your face mixture
of smells, textures, and flavors.
Sweet, sour, spicy hot with a nice
Lingering after taste
Bursting with fermentation and flavors
That is the essence of K food.
I tried it all
When I first got to Korea
43 years ago
It was just overwhelming.
Took a while
But I learned to love
K food.
A typical Korean meal
Is somewhat like a Japanese
Or a Chinese meal
But different.
Consists of rice,
A soup of some sort
Sometimes hearty stew
Lots of vegetable-based side dishes
Perhaps some eggs.
Everybody’s Kimchi
is a bit different,
yet they all share
A similar blend of:
Alcohol
cabbage
chili peppers
fermentation
fish
fish sauce,
garlic,
onion,
red peppers,
salt
sugar
soy sauce
sometimes
made with dandelion
radish
Cucumber
springtime wild herbs.
All rolled up in an intoxicating blend
Of smells and flavors
That was my introduction
to the lowly Kimchi,
The staple of K food,
I soon became a K Food fan
Craving its intoxicating flavor
And smells with every meal.
Married a Korean gal
We eat Korean style
Almost every meal.
Now 40 years later
I am still a K Food efficient
Enjoying the fragrance, the smell
The overwhelming tastes.
And intoxicating tastes
Can’t get enough of that
Funky stuff.
For today’s prompt, write a taste poem. Back on day three, we wrote a small poem; let’s write about the sense of taste today. Of course, I’m thinking about tasting wine, cheese, or chocolate. But feel free to indulge in a person’s taste in fashion, cars, or whatever else requires real taste.
two related poems The Smell of Korean Food and the Feel of Korean food follow:
The Smells of Korean food
bulgogi-central-park-rotated.jpg
When I first encountered Korean food
I was overwhelmed by the strong smell
Bursting with fermentation and flavors
Hot, raw, sweet yet sour,
spicy, in your face mixture
of smells and flavors
everybody’s Kimchi
is a bit different
yet they all share
A similar blend of
Alcohol
cabbage
chili peppers
fermentation
fish
fish sauce,
garlic,
onion,
red peppers,
salt
sugar
soy sauce
sometimes
made with dandelion
radish
springtime wild herbs
All rolled up in an intoxicating blend
Of smells and flavors
That was my introduction
to the lowly Kimchi
The staple of Korean food,
I soon became a kimchi addict
Craving its intoxicating flavor
And smells with every meal
Now 40 years later
I am still a kimchi addict
Enjoying the fragrance, the smell
And intoxicating tastes
Can’t get enough of that
Funky stuff.
For today’s prompt, write a smell poem. Strong writing uses sensory language, and one sense that is often overlooked is the sense of smell. So write about the pungent smell of teenage socks, the exquisite odor of fresh lasagna, or the coppery scent of a summer shower. Smell you later!
The Feel of Korean Food Writers’ Digest
octopus on plate ready to be cooked,italyoctopus on plate ready to be cooked,italy
Korean food is a full sensory experience
Overwhelming one with smells, flavors
And textures as well.
One day back in the Peace Corps day
My best friend visited me
From Indonesia where he
Had been hanging out.
It was the dead of winter
15 degrees F.
When he got on the plane
It was 90 degrees F.
We bought winter clothes
Then I decided to treat him
To an infamous Korean disk
산 나치
San Nachi
or Live Octopus.
they brought it out
the octopus tentacles
were moving about.
I taught him
The proper technique
Grab it by the chopstick
Dip it in hot sauce
And chew it a long time
Sometimes unwary
Or drunk eaters
Encounter a problem
When the suckers
Get stuck in one’s mouth
Sometimes requires a trip to the ER.
The texture is slimy
And a big disgusting
Need a lot to drink
The first time around.
My friend tried it
But said never again
And we both bring it up
From time to time.
He was not a big fan
Of the 산 나치
San Nachi.
Never tried that again
But he did like
Other things we ate
That winter.
For today’s prompt, write a touching poem. We’ve already done smell and taste; let’s move on to the sense of touch. Of course, all these prompts are open to interpretation, and touch connects many paths, including touching up a picture, touching down an airplane, bringing a soft or human touch to a situation, and even playing touch and go (or tag). However, in your poem, feel encouraged to put your personal touch on this prompt.
Sam Adams Final Chances Local Gems
lovers sunset
Sam Adams
At the end of life
Was looking back
In his past life.
Lost in his memories,
Remembering things he had done
Thinking about things he had done
And thinking about second, third,
Fourth, fifth and sixth chances
in his long life.
But in the end, he thought most about
His only final chance
He took regarding love.
When he jumped into life
With his beloved wife
After dreaming of her
For eight years.
When they met
He knew that was it
That was his final chance
Of finding true love.
And that was how
He met his fate
On that September date.
The Revenge of The Shrimp
Shrimp
Sam Adams and friends
Were enjoying a shrimp feast
Watching the live shrimp
Being roasted
Waiting to enjoy eating them.
The head shrimp
Jumped out of the pot
Followed by other shrimp
Soon thousands of shrimp
Were everywhere.
The head shrimp spoke up
“humans,
What gives you the right to kill us
To eat us?
To burn us alive.?
Perhaps we should kill you
Tear you apart
And eat you?
Would you like that
You human scumbags?”
The shrimp surrounded the humans
Swarming all over them
Killing them, burning them.
As they overturned the flaming pots.
Biting them
Smothering them in hot sauce.
As they ate them.
Screaming,
“Death to all humans!”
The head shrimp finally said,
“Enough, no more
Time to go
We are so out of here.”
The shrimp
All ran out the door
And back into
the shrimp farm waters.
The firefighters
Found the charred remains
Of the humans.
Now just charred
skin and bones
Wondering how they died.
The shrimp in the pound
Looked out,
Wondering if they should attack
But decided they had eaten
Enough human meat
For the evening.
Hillary Clinton and the Right-wing Conspiracy NaPoWriMo
Hilary Clinton said
that her husband
Had been the victim
Of a vast,
large right-wing conspiracy
That continued to this day
Little did we know
That the real leaders
Of the conspiracy
Was based in Russia
Where Putin
Wanted to try large
Remaking the world
And in the process
Destroy the world
Putin was the large
Master of the world
Trump was just
Their latest puppet
Our featured participant for the day is . . . two featured participants because, once again, I just couldn’t choose. First, we have Whimsy gizmo’s, which brings us a love poem for that most poetic of celestial objects, the moon, and second, Snigdha Choudhury, who brings us an exclamatory take on unrequited love.
And now for our (optional) prompt. Following up on yesterday’s love poem, I have for you another deceptively simple challenge. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about a very large thing. It could be a mountain or a blue whale or a skyscraper or a planet or the various contenders for the honor of being the Biggest Ball of Twine. Whatever giant thing you choose, I hope this chance to verify in praise of the huge gets your poetic engines humming.
Love in Korean Dew Drop Inn
When sam Adams
first met her
The lady of his dreams
There was as the Koreans
Would say
Spark from heart to heart
이심촌심isimchonsim
truly love at first sight
첫눈에 반하다cheosnun-e banhada
they both knew
that it is just fate
운명unyoung
that they had met
that date.
Two months later
They were married
It all happened
40 years ago
48 years after
She first came
To him in his dreams.
April 11—somehow incorporate a word or phrase of another language into your poem
The Powers That Be – Who are They? (Revised) Writers’ Digest
Male alligator in office clothing suit and shirt, dangerous business man concept- mixed media
Jan 12, 2021 … The deadly Capitol siege was fueled by far-out conspiracy theorists, … The notion of shape-shifting, blood-sucking reptilian humanoids …
Reptilians – also called reptoids, lizard people, archons, reptiloids, saurians, or draconians – are supposed reptilian humanoids, which play a prominent …
They are among us. Blood-drinking, flesh-eating, shape-shifting extraterrestrial reptilian humanoids with only one objective in their cold-blooded little …
Watching the news unfold
Every day
I wonder who “they” are
The secret powers
That run the world
From behind the scenes?
There are rumors
That the powers
Of the universe,
The masters of the universe
The secret power brokers
Are not-human.
They are shape-shifting
Reptilian creatures
from the Palaskan empire
in Sirius, the dog star.
their agents Trump and Putin
were doing a great job
disrupting and weakening the world.
It was time though
Said the head of the committee
The committee does not exist.
That was the control tower
Of the alien conspiracy
Of the secret powers that be.
For the invasion fleet to arrive
And finish the job
Of enslaving humanity
A job that they failed to do
When they controlled Atlantis
And later the Roman Empire.
For today’s prompt, write a power poem. Your poem could somehow involve electricity, solar power, fossil fuels, wind, or water. It could illustrate a power play or someone exerting their power over someone else. Of course, you could also write about a power outage. You alone have the power to poem your way through this prompt.
Lost Alone in the Desert writing Com
Sam Adams
Was walking alone
In the desert.
After fleeing the alien
Invasion of Las Vegas
As the giant Nazi Spiders
took control.
He joined other refugees
Wondering in the desert
The hot sun bearing down
On him.
There were rumors
That the aliens
Would be bombing Las Vegas
With nuclear weapons.
he paused to look back
and saw the city
disappear in a nuclear blast.
he continued
wandering through
alone, lost in the desert.
The desert can be metaphorical or literal, your choice.
Line count: minimum of 12, no max
Obsolete Tech Items PSH
old typewriterjpg
Over the years
I have collected a few
Obsolete items
That is no longer made
But for some reason
I have saved it.
The first is an old telephone
From Mumbai
That was the police hotline phone
Between the consulate
And the police headquarters
Back in the 1940s or earlier.
The telephone people
Found it when they were updating
The consulate’s phone lines.
I took one look at it
And fell in love with it
And the history behind it
Still have it.
The other item is a 1920’s era
Typewriter I inherited
From my grandfather.
I kept it to remind me
That I am a writer
When I look at it
It calls to me.
Keep writing
These items
Have been around
The world with me.
And will be with me
Until I die
Then who knows
Where will they end up?
Who will care by then?
As I will be in the next world.
Welcome to Cosmos’ annual April Poetry Madness. Last year I wrote 300 poems in one month, this year I will write less, as that was just way too much to deal with.
Today’s poems will be April 8th poems, followed by April 9th to 15th in separate postings, one per day.
I will post them as I write them, and try to update them every day or so. I will finish May 1 US time, as that will still be April 30 KST (Korea, where I currently reside.) Most will be G rated but a few may not be. I will try to label those or not post them. The topics will be wherever my mad muse takes me, and I usually don’t have a clue until I write them.
I will post here the poems I wrote based on prompts from NaPoWriMo, (the poetry’s world’s equivalence to the annual NaNoWriMo novel competition which I will enter again in November). Writers’ com’s Dew Drop-in, Poetry Super-highway, Writers Digest, and occasionally other prompts. I will write a few more each day, but not post them, as I need to build up more “unpublished poems” for future submissions.
Daily posting All poetry, Anchor, this blog, FB, Medium, PSH, Wattpad, Writing com, and Writer’s Digest.
I will post each poem, followed by the prompt, occasional author and notes, and photos. I will convert it to a podcast later, available on anchor, radio public, blog radio, Spotify, and elsewhere under the name “The World According to Cosmos: or Jake Cosmos Aller. See the following for more information on the podcasts.
At the end of the month, I will add up the total poems written this month, total posted, total not-posted, and total YTD.
I have found that this annual exercise has been a big help in helping me hone my craft as I am entirely self-taught except for having taken the Mod Po class several times. It helps me stretch my poetic muscles. It has been a lot of fun but a challenge.
He was an ex-University of Arkansas
and Dallas cowboy player
who had worked for the CIA
The agency fired him
for murdering enemies of the state
at home in contravention of agency rules,
but they retained
his services from time to time.
He supplemented his CIA payments
And bar income from money laundering,
drug smuggling, human smuggling
and other assorted crimes, big and small.
Big Daddy had lots of enemies
Many people wanted him dead
Relatives of his many victims
Of the covert wars, he waged
On behalf of his nation.
He had moved to Bangkok, Thailand
after running a bar and grill
in Little Rock for a few years,
He opened the Cosmos Bar
With the assistance of his manager.
Kuhn Lek, and her uncle
The police chief and his cousin
The biggest drug kingpin
In the northern triangle.
The Cosmos Bar
Became world-famous
The spot to go to in Bangkok.
Located in Soi Cowboy
It was an after-hours club
Secretly owned by the Thai police,
One of the few places
That served alcohol 24/7.
It was filled with
Criminals, drug dealers, government agents
Journalists, prostitutes, pimps,
spies, counter-spies, sex tourists,
tourists, undercover cops,
and assorted other low-lives,
From all over the known world.
Had the best looking woman
The best-looking travesties too,
The best beer, wine, and liquor list
In the city,
And the best burgers in town.
It looked like the Bar in Star Wars
Filled with probable human life forms
And perhaps a space alien or two.
Trouble Found Big Daddy
He was hoping to stay out of trouble
But one day trouble found him.
One day a mysterious Korean woman
Came into the bar asking for him
By his universal nickname
“Big Daddy”
Maria Lee was a Korean-American
Drop-dead gorgeous woman
Who was on the lam,
from her rich Korean husband.
She had one question for Big Daddy.
“The word in the Korean community
is that you are a man
Who knows how to launder money.
Can you launder 50 million dollars?”
“Hmm for a fee.”
“What’s the fee?”
“A night of wild sex with you.”
“Done, but only after the deed is done.”
She smiled sweetly.
He called his underworld contacts
and they laundered the 50 million dollars
and he gave her the bank receipt.
He had parked the money
in a Cayman Islands account.
That night
she honored her
agreement with Big Daddy.
The next morning
while drinking his cup of coffee,
She revealed that she had poisoned him
because she did not want anyone to know
about the transaction
and her affair with Big Daddy.
She smiled,
“Thanks, Big Daddy,
I liked last night,
You are a real stud, Big Daddy,
Perhaps that is why you are called, ‘Big Daddy’
But hey it is nothing personal, Big Daddy.”
After all,
it was just a business deal
in the end.
And that was
how trouble found Big Daddy.
Today’s prompt comes to us from this list of “all-time favorite writing prompts.” It asks you to name your alter-ego, and then describe him/her in detail. Then write in your alter-ego’s voice. Maybe your alter-ego is a streetwise detective, a superhero, or a very small goldfinch. Whoever or whatever your alternate self may be, I hope this prompt lets you stretch both your writing skills and your self-knowledge.
Watching Cats Fight in Incheon, NaPoWriMo
cat jpg
Watching two cats
Fighting alongside the sidewalk
In suburban Incheon New Airport Town.
Completely indifferent
To the humans walking around them
And the humans
were indifferent to the cats.
As they stood there fighting
And screeching at each other.
One orange one
One half-black-half-white one
Both middle age in cat years
As I sat there watching the cats
getting into it, I wondered
what they were arguing about?
But since I don’t speak cat
I didn’t know
All I know is they were screeching at each other
And almost looked like they were
about to attack each other
But one cat backed down
As the other cat stood their proverbial ground
If they were humans,
One would have pulled out a knife, or a gun
And someone would have been killed
But being mere cats
They stared at each other
And walked away.
But they kept glancing at each other
So, I knew the fight was not over
Merely postponed until a later hour.
Cats truly are the aliens
Who live among us humans
Or perhaps we are the aliens
Who live among the cats?
Creature—write a poem in the voice of some living creature that is not human.
Death of Big Daddy PSH
After Big Daddy was assassinated in Bangkok
His adult children arranged for his remains
To be brought back for a funeral
In his hometown of Little Rock.
Big Daddy, aka Sam Adams
was the man
who always had a plan.
He was an ex-University of Arkansas
and Dallas cowboy player
who had worked for the CIA
The agency fired him
for murdering enemies of the state
at home in contravention of agency rules,
but they retained
his services
from time to time.
After running a bar and grill
In Little Rock for a few years
He moved to Bangkok, Thailand
Where he opened the Cosmos Bar
With the assistance of his manager.
Kuhn Lek, and her uncle.
The police chief and his cousin
The biggest drug kingpin
In the northern triangle.
He supplemented his CIA payments
and bar income from money laundering,
drug smuggling, human smuggling
and other assorted crimes, big and small.
Big Daddy had lots of enemies
Many people wanted him dead
Relatives of his many victims
Of the covert wars, he waged
On behalf of his nation.
He was hoping to stay out of trouble
But one day trouble found him.
Big Daddy’s Funeral
The funeral was a big affair
Lots of people came to the funeral
Lots of people came to make sure
That SOB was indeed dead.
His children were hoping
To find out where his rumored
Millions of dollars were located.
Hoping that they could gain access
To the ill-gotten gains
Of his life of crime.
Big Daddy’s lawyer
Told them that his account info
Was one of many secrets
He had taken to his grave.
But they were now the owners
Of the Cosmos Club
Which was worth
millions of dollars.
His business partners were willing
To continue to run it
And send them 100 K each
For the year in royalties
Provided that they did not
Interfere in the management
Of the Cosmos Club.
They all agreed to the arrangement
And hired the lawyer
To track down the money.
The money was never found.
For his business partners
Had located it
And looted the account
Before anyone could find out.
April 8, 2022: Poetry Writing Prompt – Duane L Herrmann
This poetry writing prompt submitted by Duane L Herrmann:
“As the casket was lowered into the ground, the four adult children stood dry-eyed and looked at each other with knowing stares.”
Who was in the casket?
What did they know?
Did anyone else know?
What had the deceased done to them?
What will or did they do in response?
If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.
#napowrimo #poetry
The Fog Local Gems
Fog in SF
Note: one of my oldest poems was written in 1972 when I was 16. Revised as a Cherita.
The Fog
The Fog
Rolls in and in.
And on forever
Till the end of time
Past where once stood proud San-San.
Now there is nothing.
But bones rolling in
Forever and ever.
Rotting in the blue sunlight
Turning in the yellow clouds
filling the air
With the stench
The fear
The feel
Of a people forever dead
Merging with the fog
Filling the air.
The fog rolls in and in
Laughing as the Sun
Sinks into the purple coated sky
Above the encrusted sky of time
With the people of the earth
Just another dead civilization.
Welcome to Cosmos’ annual April Poetry Madness. Last year I wrote 300 poems in one month, this year I will write less as that was just way too much to deal with.
Today’s poems will be April 6th poems followed by April 7 to 10 in separate postings, one per day.
I will post them as I write them, and try to update them every day or so. I will finish May 1 US time, as that will still be April 30 KST (Korea, where I currently reside.) Most will be G rated but a few may not be. I will try to label those or not post them. The topics will be wherever my mad muse takes me, and I usually don’t have a clue until I write them.
I will post here the poems I wrote based on prompts from NaPoWriMo, (the poetry’s world’s equivalence to the annual NaNoWriMo novel competition which I will enter again in November). Writers’ com’s Dew Drop-in, Poetry Super-highway, Writers Digest, and occasionally other prompts. I will write a few more each day, but not post them, as I need to build up more “unpublished poems” for future submissions.
Daily posting All poetry, Anchor, this blog, FB, Medium, PSH, Wattpad, Writing com, and Writer’s Digest.
I will post each poem, followed by the prompt, occasional author and notes, and photos. I will convert it to a podcast later, available on anchor, radio public, blog radio, Spotify, and elsewhere under the name “The World According to Cosmos: or Jake Cosmos Aller. See the following for more information on the podcasts.
At the end of the month, I will add up the total poems written this month, total posted, total not-posted, and total YTD.
I have found that this annual exercise has been a big help in helping me hone my craft as I am entirely self-taught except for having taken the Mod Po class several times. It helps me stretch my poetic muscles. It has been a lot of fun but a challenge.
Sam Adams Was Pondering
The Old Adages
Oil And Water Don’t Mix
Opposites Attract
When It Dawn on Him
The Secret of a Long Marriage
Is The Marriage of Opposites
That Oil and Water Do Indeed Mix Well.
Today’s featured online journal is Thrush, which has been publishing six issues a year since 2011. Each issue is fairly short, giving you plenty of opportunities to savor the poems. In their latest issue, I’ll point you to Tennessee Hill’s “WE BUY BROKEN GOLD” and Chisom Okafor’s “hymn to the bowstring.”
And now for our (optional) prompt! Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that argues against, or somehow questions, a proverb or saying. They say that “all cats are black at midnight,” but really? Surely some of them remain striped. And maybe there is an ill wind that blows some good. Perhaps that wind just has some mild dyspepsia. Whatever phrase you pick, I hope you have fun complicating its simplicity. Happy writing!
Love is Blind Dew Drop Inn
Love is blind they say
I say that love is not blind.
Love is openness
Love is richness
Love is visionary.
Love is the smell
Love is the sound
Love is the sight
Of one’s beloved.
And when one is in love
The blind begin to see
The deaf begin to hear
The mute begins to speak
The lame begin to dance.
With love’s embrace
All the senses
Come to life.
April 7—“Play the opposites”—a theatre term I sometimes don’t like! But here I mean do something unexpected in your poem, once or more than once. Any time you spot a cliché of feeling or words, try its opposite, and somehow make it work!
You PSH
two lovers
You are everything
That a man could ever
Dream of having,
You are the one
The one true love
The eternal soul mate.
When you first came
I knew that the struggle
For love was over.
For you were the one
And will be
Until the end of time.
April 7, 2021: Poetry Writing Prompt – Dick Westheimer
This poetry writing prompt was submitted by Dick Westheimer:
Write a poem where the only pronoun is “you.”
If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Superhighway Facebook Group.
#napowrimo #poetry
The Abundance of Love and Money Writers Digest
many packs of us dollars
I have had an abundance
Of love in my life
My cup does run over
Ever since I met you
My life has been filled
With love and happiness
I have had
an abundance
Of money in my life
When I met you
You were
my lotto ticket
You were my golden pig
You were the jackpot
Of the casino of my life
And now that I am an old man
I am overwhelmed
With such an abundance
Of love, happiness, and wealth
What if I die tomorrow
I will die content
With the abundance
Of everything I enjoyed
In my life with my golden pig.
Write a poem every day of April with the 2022 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write an abundance poem.
So believe it or not, and for better or worse, we’ll be a full week finished with this challenge once we write today’s poem! Are you excited? If so, would you say you have an abundance of excitement?
For today’s prompt, write an abundance poem. There can be an abundance of things, both good and bad. An abundance of sunshine, money, and chocolate. Or an abundance of rain, debt, and liverwurst. Today, I hope there will be an abundance of poeming!
No Longer Alone from the First Moment Local Gems
“Composite image of the marker in the grave yard at Baltimore’s Westminster Church. Edgar Allen Poe died in 1849, the church was built in 1852. This marker was erected in 1875 when his grave was moved about 200 feet.I invite you to view some of my other Baltimore photos:”
From the first moment
At that date
At that place
Met my fate
Fate intervened in my wife
Meeting her changed my life
All of it.
That was the date
On which I met my fate
The mystery which binds me still.
From that moment forward
From that date forever
From then to now.
We have been together
Onward we fall in love
From childhood, I have not been
Like others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—
Welcome to Cosmos’ annual April Poetry Madness. Last year I wrote 300 poems in one month, this year I will write less as that was just way too much to deal with.
Today’s poems will be April 6th poems followed by April 7 to 10 in separate postings, one per day.
I will post them as I write them, and try to update them every day or so. I will finish May 1 US time, as that will still be April 30 KST (Korea, where I currently reside.) Most will be G rated but a few may not be. I will try to label those or not post them. The topics will be wherever my mad muse takes me, and I usually don’t have a clue until I write them.
I will post here the poems I wrote based on prompts from NaPoWriMo, (the poetry’s world’s equivalence to the annual NaNoWriMo novel competition which I will enter again in November). Writers’ com’s Dew Drop-in, Poetry Super-highway, Writers Digest, and occasionally other prompts. I will write a few more each day, but not post them, as I need to build up more “unpublished poems” for future submissions.
Daily posting All poetry, Anchor, this blog, FB, Medium, PSH, Wattpad, Writing com, and Writer’s Digest.
I will post each poem, followed by the prompt, occasional author and notes, and photos. I will convert it to a podcast later, available on anchor, radio public, blog radio, Spotify, and elsewhere under the name “The World According to Cosmos: or Jake Cosmos Aller. See the following for more information on the podcasts.
At the end of the month, I will add up the total poems written this month, total posted, total not-posted, and total YTD.
I have found that this annual exercise has been a big help in helping me hone my craft as I am entirely self-taught except for having taken the Mod Po class several times. It helps me stretch my poetic muscles. It has been a lot of fun but a challenge.
Sam Adams Goes Down the Rabbit Hole, NaPoWriMo Prompt
Sam Adams was having a bad night
He often would fall into a deep trouble sleep
Where his mind would go down deep
Into the proverbial rabbit holes
Exploring one dark nightmare
After another.
He saw himself in Ukraine
As a front line soldier
Watching the Russians
Come in killing people
Left and right.
Saw the Russians line up
And execute men
Raping women and children
Setting the victims on fire.
Then he was in the U.S.
When the nukes began to fall
All over the world
Armageddon on steroids.
Nuclear madness erupted
The Russians bombing NATO allies
The US, French and British firing back
Berlin, DC, London, Moscow became
Nuclear graveyards.
China bombs Taiwan,
Then invades the island.
India and Pakistan trade nuclear attacks.
Iran attacks Israel and Saudi as well.
North Korea invades the South
Nukes flying over Seoul
And Tokyo
Amid this total madness
Giant ships appear in the sky
And a full scale
the alien invasion begins.
The terrified survivors
flee the carnage
As nuclear winter
settles on the land.
The invaders from the sky
End the war
Enslaving most humans
That had survived.
Somehow Sam Adams and his wife
Were still alive
Living in a refugee camp
Deep in the mountains.
Fleeing the wild animals
The tigers, lions, and wolves
That were feasting on dead humans
And cattle everywhere.
The aliens following the humans
Looking for more to enslave.
The nuclear war though was over
The few remaining soldiers
Fighting against the common enemy,
Sam Adams woke up
Realizing that it was all
Just a nightmare.
Turning on the TV
Watching the carnage in Ukraine
He wondered if his nightmare
Was it an omen of the future?
April 6—Rabbit hole—start a poem on one topic, and let it lead you down a “rabbit hole” of discovery, burrowing into various topics, and maybe ending far, far away from where you started. (Let yourself research this one. Enjoy Google and Wikipedia!)
Love is Blind Dew Drop Inn
lovers winter beach
Love is blind they say
I say that love
is not blind.
Love is openness
Love is richness
Love is visionary.
Love is the smell
Love is the sound
Love is the sight
Of one’s beloved.
And when one is in love
The blind begin to see
The deaf begin to hear
The mute begins to speak
The lame begin to dance.
With love’s embrace
All the senses
Come to life.
April 7—“Play the opposites”—a theatre term I sometimes don’t like! But here I mean: do something unexpected in your poem, once or more than once. Any time you spot a cliché of feeling or words, try its opposite, and somehow make it work!
You PSH
You are everything
That a man could ever
Dream of having,
You are the one
The one true love
The eternal soul mate.
When you first came
I knew that the struggle
For love was over.
For you were the one
And will be
Until the end of time.
April 7, 2021: Poetry Writing Prompt – Dick Westheimer
This poetry writing prompt was submitted by Dick Westheimer:
Write a poem where the only pronoun is “you.”
If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.
#napowrimo #poetry
The Abundance of Love and Money Writers Digest
many packs of us dollars
I have had an abundance
Of love in my life
My cup does run over
Ever since I met you
My life has been filled
With love and happiness
I have had
an abundance
Of money in my life
When I met you
You were
my lotto ticket
You were my golden pig
You were the jackpot
Of the casino of my life
And now that I am an old man
I am overwhelmed
With such an abundance
Of love, happiness, and wealth
What if I die tomorrow
I will die content
With the abundance
Of everything I enjoyed
In my life with my golden pig.
Write a poem every day of April with the 2022 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write an abundance poem.
So believe it or not, and for better or worse, we’ll be a full week finished with this challenge once we write today’s poem! Are you excited? If so, would you say you have an abundance of excitement?
For today’s prompt, write an abundance poem. There can be an abundance of things, both good and bad. An abundance of sunshine, money, and chocolate. Or an abundance of rain, debt, and liverwurst. Today, I hope there will be an abundance of poeming!
Love drug Local Gems Song Lyrics
When I first saw you in September
A date that I will always remember
I knew then on that date
I had truly met my fate.
For I knew I had fallen under your spell
You had cast a mad love spell on me
Your mojo was working overtime on me
And I would be forever your love slave.
For I had to have you had to make you mine
For you were everything I longed for
Everything I was dreaming of
You were my everything.
Chorus
You were my love bug
You were my love connection
You were my love drug
You were my everything.
My foolish love bugs.
When you walked off that bus
You entered my life
And soon became my wife
And everything changed.
From that moment on
I was you
And you were me
Just the way it should be,
It was 39 years since you walked
Into my life,
Turning it inside out
Tearing it upside down.
And for 39 years together
Every single day, every hour, every minute
Every single second whenever I look at you
I fell madly in love again and again and again.
Just the way it is
Between you and me
For you are my love angel
Sent to rescue me.
Chorus
You were my love bug
You were my love connection
You were my love drug
You were my everything.
My foolish love connection,
When I first saw you there
Your cosmic love vibrations
Sent me flying to the moon
To Jupiter and beyond.
Flying on the back
Of your love
Returning me once more
To your waiting embrace.
Your love came me such a thrill
The thrill has never ended
Like a fine bottle of wine
It gets better and better.
I can no longer imagine
A life without you by my side
And if you go before I do
I will surely soon follow you.
When we met that cosmic date
I knew that I had met my soul mate
And soon we would be together
Until the end of time.
Chorus
You were my love bug
You were my love connection
You were my love drug
You were my everything
My lovely love drug.
You were my love drug
I did not need any other
With your love by my side
I did not need alcohol
I did not need acid
I did not need booze
I do not need Cialis
I did not need cocaine
I did not need heroin
I did not need magic mushrooms
I did not need speed
I did not need Viagra
For you were all that I ever needed
You were indeed my love drug.
Chorus
You were my love bug
You were my love connection
You were my love drug
You were my everything
My everything
My love drug.
Welcome to Cosmos’ annual April Poetry Madness. Last year I wrote 300 poems in one month, this year I will write less as that was just way too much to deal with.
Today’s poems will be April 5th poems followed by April 6 to 10 in separate postings, one per day.
I will post them as I write them, and try to update them every day or so. I will finish May 1 US time, as that will still be April 30 KST (Korea, where I currently reside.) Most will be G rated but a few may not be. I will try to label those or not post them. The topics will be wherever my mad muse takes me, and I usually don’t have a clue until I write them.
I will post here the poems I wrote based on prompts from NaPoWriMo, (the poetry’s world’s equivalence to the annual NaNoWriMo novel competition which I will enter again in November). Writers’ com’s Dew Drop-in, Poetry Super-highway, Writers Digest, and occasionally other prompts. I will write a few more each day, but not post them, as I need to build up more “unpublished poems” for future submissions.
Daily posting All poetry, Anchor, this blog, FB, Medium, PSH, Wattpad, Writing com, and Writer’s Digest.
I will post each poem, followed by the prompt, occasional author and notes, and photos. I will convert it to a podcast later, available on anchor, radio public, blog radio, Spotify, and elsewhere under the name “The World According to Cosmos: or Jake Cosmos Aller. See the following for more information on the podcasts.
At the end of the month, I will add up the total poems written this month, total posted, total not-posted, and total YTD.
I have found that this annual exercise has been a big help in helping me hone my craft as I am entirely self-taught except for having taken the Mod Po class several times. It helps me stretch my poetic muscles. It has been a lot of fun but a challenge.
While drinking coffee
In his camp
Deep in the woods
In the Trinity Alps wilderness
snuggled in his tent,
Rolled in his sleeping bag
Sam Adams had the encounter
That changed his life,
He heard a noise
Went outside
And saw five bigfoots
standing there.
They told him
In his head
They had a message
For humanity
He could videotape them
They would speak slowly
They could speak
But preferred mind to mind talk
The bigfoot was here
They wanted to re-join
The rest of humanity
They were what
Humans called Neanderthals
They lived deep in the woods
All over the world
Perhaps 10,000 were alive
Two of them will go out
With him.
They would hold a press conference
And appoint Sam Adams
As their ambassador.
Sam grinned
Thinking he could make
so much money,
Bigfoot said,
“Not so fast
We will pay you in hidden gold
But you have to promise
Not to betray us”.
Deal
Sam smiled
Yeah, you got a dear
Our featured participant today is Narrative Paralysis, where the write-a-prompt prompt for Day Four produced an extremely zany adventure. I’m not sure if it’s a prompt, but it’s a poem! Or a short story. Or, well, it’s something all right!
Today’s featured online magazine is Waxwing, which has been going strong since 2013 and is much admired for the high quality of the work found on its (web)pages. In their newest issue, I’ll point you to Alfredo Aguilar’s “Palomar Mountain” and Carly Joy Miller’s “Beloved Litany.”
And now for our prompt (optional, as always). Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about a mythical person or creature doing something unusual – or at least something that seems unusual about that person/creature. For example, what does Hercules do when he loses a sock in the dryer? If a mermaid wants to pick up rock climbing as a hobby, how does she do that? What happens when a mountain troll makes pancakes?
Things I Believe Drew Drop Inn Prompt
Things I believe
Who is Jake Cosmos Aller
Dreamgirl and other fairy tales
Dreams Do Come True
When We Met
The beginning of the end
The end of the beginning
April 5—List poem w/no repetition—write a list of things where the title signals what it’s a list of (Example: My Lovers, Things I Wish I’d Said to My Father, Visible at Dusk, etc.)
The Sacrifice of the Fish PSH
sashimi dinner
On New Year’s Day, February 2022
To start the year of the Black Tiger
We went to the wharf area
Near our house in Youngjondo, Korea.
We looked at the fish
Swimming in the tanks
Starting at use
With hate in their eyes.
Resigned to their fate,
Waiting to be taken
Delivered to the human creatures
For their dinner.
We took home the fish
Set the table
Pour our white wine
Ate our sashimi with gusto.
As we ate the fish
We never stop to think
What did the fish think
About that?
That is just
Why it is better to be human
Than being a fish
Swimming in a tank.
Constantine
This poetry writing prompt was submitted by Brendan Constantine:
PHONE GALLERY PROMPT
Open your picture app and begin to scroll through the images.
In very simple language, note down what you see. For instance:
“Here’s me waving
Here’s the moon, too small to see
Here’s a total blur
Here’s a sandwich
Here’s my dog asleep…”
Keep scrolling and making notes.
Chances are, a theme or arc will start to present itself naturally. And real poetry may result from the simplest descriptive details – a color, a texture, the quality of light.
If you want to take things up a notch, start adding descriptions of pictures that don’t exist.
“Here’s you swallowing your car
Here’s me posing with Virginia Woolf
Here’s the cat factory
Here’s God on her birthday
(Great party. Too long, the)…”
However long you make your poem, remember that the last image will always determine its feeling.
If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Superhighway Facebook Group.
#napowrimo #poetry
Prompt photos
Save for future poems – this was a fun exercise
Fish swimming looking at me
Endaemae
Smoothie
Smoothie ingredients
More ingredients
Winter snow in park January 2022
More winter snow
New year’s sashimi feast
Wharf area
Mudflats
Oceanview
Fish sign
Fish
Fish
Ocean wharf scene
More wharf scene
More wharf scene
More wharf shops
More wharf shops
More wharf shops
Fascist rabbit
COVID Nonsense Does Not Make Sense Writer’s Digest
covid 580
To this day
There is so much COVID nonsense
Floating about the internet
Being spread by so many right-wing
And left-wing influencers
It just does not make sense
To me.
There are some people
Who believes that COVID
Never really existed.
That it was all a horrid libtard plot
To lock down the economy
Imposed draconian controls
On everyone.
That vaccine mandates
Are the equivalent of
Sending Jews to the death camps,
That the unvaccinated
Will be rounded up
And forced to get vaccines
Which are the equivalent
Of Nazi medical experiments.
That the vaccines were created
To track people
Invented by Bill Gates
Or were the mark of the beast.
Some speculated that
everyone who got the vaccine
Would die in one year
Or become sterile.
Part of the nefarious plot
To depopulate the world
By the global one-world government
UN black helicopter conspiracy.
The nonsense about vaccines
Mask wearing
And COVID in general
Reveal a fundamental flaw
With many human beings.
No matter how hard one might try
To convince people who believe
This nonsense,
It is beyond any ability
To reason with them.
At the end of the day
The only thing that makes sense
Is this:
You can’t fix stupid.
2022 April PAD Challenge: Day 5
Write a poem every day of April with the 2022 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt (the first Two-for-Tuesday prompt of the month), write a make sense poem and/or don’t make sense poem.
Here we go The first Two-for-Tuesday prompt of the 2022 April Poem-A-Day Challenge! For first-timers or those with short memories, I provide two prompts on Tuesdays, and poets get to decide whether to write one type of poem, the other type of poem and/or tackle both simultaneously (and separately).
Here are the Two-for-Tuesday prompts:
1. Write a Make Sense poem, and/or…
2. Write a Don’t Make Sense poem.
Remember: These prompts are springboards to creativity. Use them to expand your possibilities, not limit them.
Day 5: Imaginary Biography Sam Adams Local Gems
Sam Adams, aka “Big Daddy”
Was an imposing figure of a man.
Ex-football player for the University of Arkansas
And the Dallas cowboys.
Later worked for ten years
During secret work
For unnamed government agencies
Before returning home.
Where he opened
The best bar and grill in Little Rock
With the best breakfasts in the state,
Soon became the place to be
And he was the undisputed Kingmaker
Although he never ran for office
Everyone who was who in Arkansas
Sought him out.
When he died
He turns many secrets
To the grave,
Which was just fine
For his many friends
And even more enemies.
Old Couple In Love Riding a Bike Simply Six
old couple in love
An old couple
Riding a bike
In the springtime
Stop for a break.
Sitting on the park bench
They look at each other
And fall in love again.
Every day for 40 years
At least once they had fallen
In love with each other.
Welcome to Cosmos’ annual April Poetry Madness. Last year I wrote 300 poems in one month, this year I will write less as that was just way too much to deal with.
today’s poems will be April 4, to April 7th poems in separate postings, one per day.
I will post them as I write them, and try to update them every day or so. I will finish May 1 US time, as that will still be April 30 KST (Korea, where I currently reside.) Most will be G rated but a few may not be. I will try to label those or not post them. The topics will be wherever my mad muse takes me, and I usually don’t have a clue until I write them.
I will post here the poems I wrote based on prompts from NaPoWriMo, (the poetry’s world’s equivalence to the annual NaNoWriMo novel competition which I will enter again in November). Writers’ com’s Dew Drop-in, Poetry Super-highway, Writers Digest, and occasionally other prompts. I will write a few more each day, but not post them, as I need to build up more “unpublished poems” for future submissions.
Daily posting All poetry, Anchor, this blog, FB, Medium, PSH, Wattpad, Writing com, and Writer’s Digest.
I will post each poem, followed by the prompt, occasional author and notes, and photos. I will convert it to a podcast later, available on anchor, radio public, blog radio, Spotify, and elsewhere under the name “The World According to Cosmos: or Jake Cosmos Aller. See the following for more information on the podcasts.
At the end of the month I will add up the total poems written this month, total posted, total not-posted, and total YTD.
I have found that this annual exercise has been a big help in helping me hone my craft as I am entirely self-taught except for having taken the Mod Po class several times. It helps me stretch my poetic muscles. It has been a lot of fun but a challenge.
April Poetry Madness Prompts
Daily to do in April
Take poetry prompts
From NaPoWriMo, Writers Digest, Writing com Dew Drop-in,
And elsewhere
Throw it all out there
See where your muse takes you
Then write, write, write
Two-three hours later
Emerge with the poems for the day
In the end, you have met
Your poetry quota for the day
Perhaps for the week
Or even the year
It is all good.
more poetry for all
is the spirit
of April Poetry Madness.
Finally, here’s our optional prompt! Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem . . . in the form of a poetry prompt. If that sounds silly, well, maybe it is! But it’s not without precedent. The poet Mathias Svalina has been writing surrealist prompt poems for quite a while, posting them to Instagram. You can find examples here, and here, and here.
Happy writing!
When I First Saw You Dew Drop-in
lovers in the rain
When I First Saw You There
When I first saw you there
You came to me
In a dream
And disappeared,
Haunting me
For eight long years.
When I First Saw You In Person
lovers face to face
I was overwhelmed
This fairy tale dream of mine
This impossible quest
To find the girl in the dream
Was finally over.
She was real,
And she was here.
In front of me.
When I First Spoke With You
lovers at sunset
I knew that this was it
We would be together
From then on
You were the one,
I proposed three days later.
When I First Kissed You
lovers sunset
When I first kissed you
Erotic desires came out
And that was the beginning
Of a 40-year love affair.
When I Married You
declaration of love
That was the beginning
Of my life
From that moment
I had no doubt
Whatever life brought my way,
You would be there
In the end
That is all that matters.
April 4—List poem w/repetition—write a poem that lists things, using some (not necessarily constant) repetition and variation of an initial phrase (Examples: When I was six…, Remember that time…*, Layers of…., etc.)
I often found
Throughout my married life
That we fall in love with each other
At the oddest times and places.
For example, yesterday
While emptying the trash
In our suburban housing estate
In Korea,
I looked at her
And once again
Fell in love.
It has been that way
Every day for 40 years
The love continues to deepen
And grow,
That is just the way
Love happened with us.
Composed while emptying the trash
This poetry writing prompt submitted by LB Sedlacek:
Rewrite where you write! Write where you (or maybe anyone) normally wouldn’t write. That’s right. Take your pen, paper, smartphone, or whatever with you to a school sporting event, or while you’re waiting in line at the drugstore, maybe sitting in the car rider line, or at the doctor’s office, and be ready to write. Jot down a quick poem – whatever comes to mind from what’s happening around you, what you see, hear, smell, feel and think. Then when you’re back in your usual writing spot at your desk or sitting in your favorite chair, you can edit it.
If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Superhighway Facebook Group.
#napowrimo #poetry
Catch Up Poem Writer Digest
For today’s prompt, write a catch-up poem. This is not to be confused with a ketchup (or catsup) poem, but hey, write one of those if the poetic spirit moves you! But I’m thinking of catching up on work, catching up on a race, or catching up on some popular TV or streaming series.
Doing the April Poetry challenge
Has been a challenge
Keeping it up to date.
I posted my April 1-3 poems
April 4th
My April 4th poems April 5th etc
But in my defense
The prompts come out
In U.S. time
And I am a day behind
Living in Korea.
I write every day
Takes an hour to write them.
But it takes too much time
To post the poems.
There is still there a lot
Of catching up to do.
You can’t fix stupid something unfixable local gems
Don’t Believe the Lie There is No COVID
To this day
There are some people
Who believes that COVID
Never really existed.
That it was all a horrid libtard plot
To lock down the economy
Imposed draconian controls
On everyone.
That vaccine mandates
Are the equivalent of
Sending Jews to the death camps
That the unvaccinated
Will be rounded up
And forced to get vaccines
Which are the equivalent
Of Nazi medical experiments.
That the vaccines were created
To track people
Invented by Bill Gates
Or were the mark of the beast.
Some speculated that
everyone who got the vaccine
Would die in one year
Or become sterile.
Part of the nefarious plot
To depopulate the world
By the global one-world government
UN black helicopter conspiracy.
The nonsense about vaccines
Mask wearing
And COVID in general
Reveal a fundamental flaw
With many human beings.
No matter how hard one might try
To convince people who believe
This nonsense,
It is beyond any ability
To reason with them.
At the end of the day
You can’t fix stupid.
Weekly challenge (Post)
Shout out to Favorite Poets Meta Poetry
charles bukowski
I have over the years read
A lot of poetry
And written a lot of poetry
My favorite poets include
WD Auden
John Ashbury walking around poems
Blake mystical poetry
Charles Bukowski anything of his
Emily Dickinson
Emerson’s classic poetry of the American romantic period
Allen Ginzburg classic poetry of the beatnik eraLon
Latin Poetry in translation
Jack Kerouac
Korean poetry (in translation but I can read some of it)
KIm Seowol
Japanese Poetry(in translation)
Pablo Neruda (in translation but I can read some of it)
Edgar Allen Poe, alone, the bells, the raven
Robert Jeffries
Henry Longfellow
Rod McKeun
Walt Whitman all of his work
Williams Carlos Williams
Just to name a few
And poems in the Mod Po course.
Of course goes without saying.
All of my poetry has been influenced
by these and other writers.
I like to think of my writing
as in the neo-beatnik style.
or Outlaw poetry school
Maybe a bit New York School
Definitely Berkeley School
And I have so many more poets
To read and contemplate
Before my time is up.
In celebration of National Poetry Month,
Write a poem about your favorite poet!
Form: any or none, author’s choice
Line Count: min of 12, no max
Romantic Tanka Poem Fan Story
Romantic Tanka Poem
lovers kissing 5
When I saw you there
I knew that you were the one
Heaven sent you then
When you came into my life
That was my best day ever
2022 April Poetry Madness April 1 to April 3 Poems
Welcome to Cosmos’ annual April Poetry Madness. Last year I wrote 300 poems in one month, this year I will write less as that was just way too much to deal with.
I will post them as I write them and try to update them every day or so. I will finish May 1 US time, as that will still be April 30 KST (Korea, where I currently reside.) Most will be G rated but a few may not be. I will try to label those or not post them. The topics will be wherever my mad muse takes me, and I usually don’t have a clue until I write them.
I will post here the poems I wrote based on prompts from NaPoWriMo, (the poetry’s world’s equivalence to the annual NaNoWriMo novel competition which I will enter again in November). Writers’ com’s Dew Drop-in, Poetry Super-highway, Writers Digest, and occasionally other prompts. I will write a few more each day, but not post them, as I need to build up more “unpublished poems” for future submissions.
Daily posting All poetry, Anchor, this blog, FB, Medium, PSH, Wattpad, Writing com, and Writer’s Digest.
I will post each poem, followed by the prompt, occasional author and notes, and photos. I will convert it to a podcast later, available on anchor, radio public, blog radio, Spotify, and elsewhere under the name “The World According to Cosmos: or Jake Cosmos Aller. See the following for more information on the podcasts.
At the end of the month I will add up the total poems written this month, total posted, total not-posted, and total YTD.
I have found that this annual exercise has been a big help in helping me hone my craft as I am entirely self-taught except for having taken the Mod Po class several times. It helps me stretch my poetic muscles. It has been a lot of fun but a challenge.
Never Been One To Ease Into Things! Dew Drop-In
F April Fool’s Day Writers com Prompt
Bigfoot Emerges After the Fall of Humanity PSH prompt
Epic Retirement Road Trip Local Gem
Saturday April 2
Insomnia Blues Dew Drop In Sleep—
A Solivagant’s Journey To Distant Time Writers Digest
Sara Moore’s Anuptaphobia PSH Prompt
Second Chances? Writer’s Digest
Last Day In The Government Service Local Gem Prompt
Sunday April 3 Poems
Alone Glosa NaNoPoMo Po
Power of Love Dew Drop In
Mathematical Poem PSH prompt
Writer’s Digest te Smell of Korean Food Writers Digest
Something Fixable Local Gems
April 1
I have Bad Teeth NaPoWriMo
I have bad teeth. Always have since birth. I had braces as a child and hated it. Hated going to the dentist. Put it off too long, too often. Ended up with multiple root canals, and bone grafts, and finally lost six teeth and had to have dentures.
Lately, my remaining teeth have been behaving a bit better I may lose another tooth before the end but that should be enough.
I am waiting for the development of dental clones which I hope will happen soon so I can grow perfect teeth and replace all my old rotting teach.
I tell my teeth one day my plans
“Teeth”
“Yeah master.”
“We need to talk.”
“So talk, dude.”
“I am going to replace you all with brand new teeth. You have been such pain my entire life, can’t wait.”
“So you are going to kill us off and trade us in for a new model.”
“Yeah.”
“Bastard, but hey, we don’t have a choice, since you are the Master and we are merely your eating machine slaves.”
“Yeah, you got that right.”
And last but not least, our optional prompt! I got this one from a workshop I did last year with Beatrix Gates, and I’ve found it helpful. The prompt is based on Robert Hass’s remarkable prose poem,
“A Story About the Body.” The idea is to write your prose poem that, whatever title you choose to give it, is a story about the body. The poem should contain an encounter between two people, some spoken language, and at least one crisp visual image.
Forever Might Be Short NaPoWriMo
I shall love you forever
Until the end of time itself.
But forever might seek short
As time loses meaning
In the afterlife.
But until then
I will love you
With all my heart.
Happy writing!
For those of you who want to get a jump on things (either because it’s already April 1 where you are or, who knows, maybe you’re just a glutton for poetry!), we’ve got a special early-bird prompt, based on the poetry of Emily Dickinson.
Dickinson is known for her elliptical style, unusual word choices, and mordant sense of humor. Over the past year, I’ve experimented with writing poems based on or responding to, various lines from her poems. Today, I’d like to challenge you to do the same! Here are a few lines of Dickinson’s that might appeal to you
(the slashes indicate line breaks):
“Forever might be short”
“The absence of the Witch does not / Invalidate the spell”
“If to be ‘Elder’ – mean most pain – / I’m old enough, today”
“The second half of joy / Is shorter than the first”
“To be a Flower is profound / Responsibility –
And if none of those inspire you, you can find many of her poems here.
Post a poem then write a reaction Poem
For those of you getting a jump-start in April, happy writing! As for the rest of you, I’ll see you back here tomorrow with our first “official” prompt, featured participant, and featured online magazine.
To Love Thee Year By Year
Poem 434
To love thee
Year by Year
May less appear
Then sacrifice, and cease
However, dear,
Forever might be short,
I thought to show
And so I pieced it,
with a flower, now.
Warming Up to the Day Dew Drop-in = Writing com Prompt
Warming Up to the Day
I start my day drinking a cup
Of hot coffee come what may
I like to warm up
To the dawning day.
I start by getting up at dawn,
Then while reading my emails and biking two k
While brewing up my coffee, my nightmares are soon gone,
Looking at my Facebook messages turns my mood grey.
Then I turn on CNN, watch the news,
While doing my dream journal prewriting,
draft poems, stories, writing com writing.
Following my ever-creative muse.
I wake up my wife
The love of my life
And want to play
Discussing our plans for the day.
Have my morning breakfast
usually a smoothie, or kefir.
My homemade breakfast gives me much pleasure
just like in my private bed and breakfast.
Turning off the news,
Turning on music, listening to the blues
about 11 a.m., I start my day
Ready for whatever comes my way.
After finishing my “me time” warm-up
I am ready to press on
That is the way
I like to warm up to the day.
It is not warming up where I live, but, sadly, getting colder again. And now building up to a thunderstorm. Aauugghh!
But we can warm up with a warm-up poem!
Let’s practice the basic method of replying to this post with a poem (full text) somehow on the theme of “warming up.” It could be weather/temperature related, sports/practice related, or some other creative interpretation of “warming up.”
Write away! Post away (via a reply to this post)!
Note: one of my few rhyming poems.
Re-born Local Gem
September 7th, 1982
Was the day that my life
Truly began
When I met the lady
That had haunted my dreams
For eight years.
She walked off the bus
In Korea,
Told me that she was mine
And I was hers.
We got married
Six-weeks later.
Still together 40 years later.
Ups and downs
But always falling in love
Again, and again.
Day 1: A Day You Started Something Write a poem about a day in which you started something. It could be anything, joining a sports team, writing a book, a new school, a new job, anything.
No More April Fool’s Day! Writer’s Cramp
At the start of April
There is another silly superstition
Like Groundhog Day,
That is no longer that relevant.
That is the annual April Fool’s Day
When one is supposed to engage
In games of deception to fool the unwary,
But after the four years
Of the extraneous folly
That was the reign
Of “he who cannot be named,”
Every day seemed an April Fool’s Day
An April Fool’s Day that lasted
A bit less than four years.
Presided over by the greatest fool
Of all time, The self-proclaimed
“Pretty smart stable genius”
“Who had the best words”
The smartest man in the world
According to him,
“The man that cannot be named.”
Concealed every day
In his daily haiku/tanka
like cosmic tweets
Were the germs of the hatred
That he had infected
Into the body politics.
Unencumbered by the old-fashioned notion
Superman’s “Truth, Justice, and the American way”
Replaced by Lies, injustice and
Make America First propaganda nonsense.
In the end, the entire world drowned its reason
In the electric acid “Koo aid” of unreason.
That is the ridiculous
Heart of the MAGA nightmare.
So, no more April Fool’s Day
We have had enough already.
In celebration of April Fool’s Day, write a story or poem about fooling (or being fooled by) someone. It may be in any genre.
Use the words:
* deception
* extraneous
* concealed
* unencumbered
* ridiculous
(The words may appear in any order in your story, but make sure you make them bold.)
NB: The most successful entries will be those which use the words in a meaningful way, so that they occur naturally in the story, rather than feeling artificial as if awkwardly shoe-horned in.
Never Been One to Ease into Things! Dew Drop-In
Never been one
Who could ease into things,
Just not how I roll.
I am the dude
Who jumps into the water
Headless of the danger.
Just because
It was time
To jump in.
I am the kind of dude
Who never eases into
the buffet line.
Who boldly marches in
grabbing everything
And eating it all.
And most importantly
When I saw my wife
The love of my life
The lady of my dreams.
I did not ease up
On that thang.
No, I dove headfirst
Into the ocean
Of her endless love.
And was the best decision
Of all time.
If we had waited
Getting to know each
As most sane couples do,
Perhaps we never
would have lasted
For 40 years.
The moral of this poem
is simply this
You have to know
when to ease
Into things,
And you have to know
When to rush in.
When fools march
Into the lion’s den
That is the love
Of one’s life.
Don’t ease up!
Don’t tense up!
Jump into the ocean
Of your love.
You will never regret it
If you do,
And always regret it
If you ease into it
And never reach
The ocean of her love,
Waiting for you,
But with a time limit
Tick tock
Times up.
Jump or ease on out
Of there,
And say goodbye.
Easing in—write a poem about easing into something (poetry month, a pair of jeans, a new job or stage in life, a swimming pool…
F April Fool’s Day Writers Digest
F April Fool’s Day, I say.
In April, every year in the Anglo speaking world.,
There is another silly superstition
Like Groundhog Day,
That is no longer that relevant.
That is the annual April Fool’s Day
When one is supposed to engage
In games of deception to fool the unwary,
But after four years
Of the extraneous folly
That was the reign
Of “he who cannot be named,”
Every day seemed an April Fool’s Day
An April Fool’s Day that lasted
A bit less than four years.
I say again
F April Fool’s Day!
After almost four years
Of a Daily April Fool’s Day
Presided over by the greatest fool
Of all time, The self-proclaimed
“Pretty smart stable genius”
“Who had the best words”
The smartest man in the world
According to him,
“The man that cannot be named.”
It is time to discard
April Fool’s Day
In the ashcan of history
Concealed every day
In his daily haiku/tanka like cosmic tweets
Were the germs
Of the hatred
That he had infected
Into the body politics.
Unencumbered by the old-fashioned notion
Superman’s “Truth, Justice, and the American way”
Replaced by Lies, injustice and
Make America First “
In the end, the entire world drowned its reason
In the electric acid “Koo aid” of unreason.
That is the ridiculous
Heart of the MAGA nightmare,
I say again
F April Fool’s Day
We have had enough already.
Here we are on the first day of the 2022 April Poem-A-Day Challenge! Each day, I’ll provide a poetry prompt and a poem to get things started. You can secretly poem along at home, or you can share your poem in the comments below.
For today’s prompt, pick a word that begins with F, make it the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. I don’t know if it’s because today is April Fool’s Day, Friday, or just the first day of the challenge, but today feels like an F type of day. So figure out a way to foreshadow your future poems or do whatever else will help you F it all up today.
Bigfoot Emerges After the Fall of Humanity PSH prompt
After the bombs stop falling
After the nuclear winter
After the collapse of civilization
All that remains
Are a few scattered bands
Of humans
Many are reduced
To starvation
Bigfoot who are the descendants
Of the Neanderthals
Who lived on
In the mountain wilderness
Came down
And took pity
On their human cousins.
They soon began
A new, kinder hybrid civilization
Based on the smoldering ruins
of the ancient era
Which was soon forgotten.
Except in the few university towns
That kept some of the knowledge
Of the past alive.
Particularly solar and wind power
Which was soon everywhere
As was a rudimentary internet.
Linking the college towns
The nearby markets
And the remains
Of the old central governments.
New countries slowly emerged
New trading routes
And civilization slowly recovered
It took hundreds of years
Amid the new ice age
That settled down
In most of the world.
April 1, 2022: Poetry Writing Prompt – Maria DePaul
This poetry writing prompt submitted by Maria DePaul:
Wildlife thrives in the unlikeliest of places. In remembrance of the struggles of the Ukrainian people against Russian invasion troops, think of the cats, deer, lynx, wolves, and other animals that persist in the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone. Then write a poem, flash fiction, or creative nonfiction about how to survive and thrive in the most perilous of circumstances.
If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Superhighway Facebook Group.
The day after I retired
From 28 years in the Federal government service
Twenty-six years in the Foreign Service
Two years Peace Corps
We left for an epic road trip
10,000 miles
35 states
In April – June 2016
When Trumpism first emerged
Driving through flyover country
I knew that the Donald
For some weird reason
Connected with the downtrodden
Forgotten people
Of the rural hinterland.
I knew he would win
He was everywhere
In red-state America.
Hillary was nowhere
Outside the
coastal blue enclaves.
And I was so glad
I was getting out
Before the shit storm
That was Trumpism.
Would sweep through the government
Destroying so much
Of the government in the process.
Day 2: A Day You Finished Something Write a poem about a day in which you ended something. It could be anything; a job, a class, a relationship, etc…………………..
You got the insomnia blues
Nothing works
You can’t sleep
You stare at the ceiling.
Your mind plays an endless tape
Of gloom, and doom
Worries and fears
All night long.
The latest dark
SF series you saw
The latest scary headlines
Endless possibilities play out.
The latest news of war
The latest news about the stock market
About the endless pandemic
Dancing across your mind’s internal eye.
What if I have COVID
What if have Cancer?
What if I have the big Alzheimer’s
What is the stock market wipes me out?
What if the North Koreans invade Seoul?
Where would we go to escape the invasion?
What if the zombie apocalypse starts?
What if, what if, what if……
You stare at your watch.
4:01 a,m.
You try to sleep, but nothing works
The dark thoughts continue to play
Across your mind’s eye
Tormenting you, torturing you.
4:05 a,m.
You debate whether
To give up
Get up
Start your morning routine.
4:10 a.m.
You give in
And try to sleep
Checking the time
Every few minutes.
Perhaps you might
Get a few fitful hours
Of much-needed sleep
Most likely not.
6:30 a.m.
Until day-break
Blasts you awake
As the dawning sun
Fills the room.
You get up
Having had only two hours of sleep
That is the curse
Of the insomnia blues.
Sam Adams took off one day
His goal is to be a world traveler.
A WT, a Solivagant
Traveling the world
With his backpack, a laptop
His clothes, and not much more.
A minimal amount of money
Staying at cheap hostels
See as much of the world
as he could within two years.
Near the end of his travels
Deep in the vast wilderness
Of the Himalayas.
He came to a temple
Deep in the mountains
The old wizen monk
Greeted him warmly
He got so few visitors
to his out of the way temple
Lost in time and space.
Over tea, he told Sam,
That there was in his temple
A gateway to other worlds.
But it was a one-way gate
Did Sam accept the challenge?
None ever came back
So, he did not know where
They might end up,
Just a distant time and place
That is all he knew.
He had come from another place
and time a long time ago
For it was a one-way gate
On the other end as well.
Sam stepped through the portal
Telling the monk,
“I always felt that,
Distant times were calling me.”
And now for our daily prompt (optional, as always). Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem based on a word featured in a tweet from Haggard Hawks, an account devoted to obscure and interesting English words. Will you choose a word like “aprosexia,” which means “an inability to concentrate”? Or maybe something like “greenout,” which is “the relief a person who has worked or lived in a snowy area for a long time feels on seeing something fresh and green for the first time”? Whatever you choose happy writing!
Sara Moore’s Anuptaphobia PSH
Sara Moore was a 30ish young woman
Who was suffering from anuptaphobia?
Ever since she turned down
Her rich Thai boyfriend
gave her a gift of an antique, expensive
Pigmean damassin.
Because she thought that it
Implied she would be
His mistress in the Thai tradition,
As a “Mia Noi”
She conspued his offer
Saying
“I ain’t going to be anyone’s “mia noi”
Or mistress, you got that Mister?”.
He responded,
“Then my curse on you
Is that you will always be single
And die an angry old spinster
Rejecting my sincere offer
Of love”
“Does that mean you
would divorce your wife
To be with me?”
“Of course not”.
She laughed.
“I did not think so.”
She left Thailand
And was now regretting
Her harsh condemnation
Of her ex-boyfriend.
An unusual word (or two) within a poem can make a reader (and writer) pause—but if the word is intriguing, this can enrich a writing and reading experience. Use AT LEAST ONE of the following words in your writing exercise.
The prompt was to use at least one of the following unusual words in a poem
I chose the following:
conspue—v.t. to spurn contemptuously.
pigmean—adj. very small.
damassin—n. a brocade with gold and silver threads.
I also chose a Thai expression:
Mia Noi Thai word for mistress means “ Little Wife “ as opposed to the Mia Yaa the big, legal wife. Most rich men have a mia noi or two, and even poor and middle-class men aspire to have a “Mia Noi” at some time. No one gets a divorce and often Mia Yaa and Mia Noi become friends. This ancient tradition may be dying out, it was still very common back in the 1990s.
Other word prompts included
scrvello—n. an elephant’s tusk.
tyg—n. a large ceramic 17th-century drinking mug with 12 handles.
meristic—adj. pertaining to or divided into segments.
halotic—adj. easy to catch.
zibeb—n. a raisin.
papillote—n. a paper ruffle decorating a lamb chop bone.
erudite—adj. freed from wrinkles; very smooth.
If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Superhighway Facebook Group.
#napowrimo #poetry
Second Chances? Writer’s Digest
There are no Second Acts
Sam Adams, an old man
Was contemplating his life
As he turned 85 years old.
Recalling the adage
That there are no second acts
No true second chances.
He concluded
That was not true!
For he had had numerous
second chances,
Third,
fourth,
fifth chances.
To get it right in the end.
Failed the first grade,
Almost failed in high school.
Flunked out of his second college,
Three tries at three colleges,
before he graduated from college.
Four failed relationships
Before he met
the love of his life.
35 different jobs
Four careers
Peace Corps,
Teaching,
Foreign service,
Blogging and writing.
Lived in four states,
And ten countries,
Traveled to all 50 states
And 55 countries
Cheated death 25 times.
And concluded
There are multiple chances
In life.
And each one teaches a lesson
Those who fail end up winning
And those win early on
Often ending failing
Spectacularly in the end.
It does not matter
Much in the end
We all end up in the same place,
When the grim reaper calls our name.
Just take the opportunities
That life throws at you
Never looking back
But learning life’s lessons,
And continue
One step after another.
Until the grim reaper
calls for you.
Those were his final words
in his poem
“Final chances awaiting me”.
The grim reaper came for him
That night.
Write a poem every day of April with the 2022 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write a second chance poem.
Welcome back! It’s day two of the April PAD Challenge, and it’s your second chance to write a poem this month.
For today’s prompt, write a second chance poem. That second chance could be a second chance at a relationship, at living life, or doing the right thing. Maybe play with whether it’s deserved or not, or just dive straight into giving or taking that second chance.
Local Gem:
Day 2: A Day You Finished Something
Last day in the government service Local Gem Prompt
I served almost 28 years
In the government service.
Two years in the Peace Corps
25 and a half with the Foreign service.
I served in Korea in the Peace Corps
Later in the FS.
I served in ten countries
Over a 27-year career.
Serving in Korea, Thailand, India,
Antiqua, Barbados (based there),
Grenada, St Kitts, St Lucia, St Vincent,
Spain, and six years in DC.
When I left the service
We drove across the country
Just the wife and me
To re-discover America.
After so many years abroad
Representing the US government
All over the world.
My last day officially
Occurred as I was driving
Across the country
It was late April 2016
My last official day
Was April 30, 2016.
We stopped off
In Windsor, Arizona
Saw the shrine to the song
Take it easy.
And realized that
I finally could take it easy
That was my last official day
In government service.
From the beginning of his life
Sam Adams felt alone.
He felt somehow different than others.
He did not know why or how.
He was just born different.
He grew up lonely,
Never fitting in.
Had no real friends at all.
He was all alone all the time.
From childhood’s hour, I have not been.
He grew up in a dysfunctional family.
Not much love to go around.
Always felt like an outsider.
Always wondering why
He felt this way.
His parents had no answers.
They barely spoke to each other.
Or to their troubled son.
As others were—I have not seen.
He was different.
Saw the world through different visions.
Perhaps even a bit psychotic.
His parents were eventually concerned
Enough to consult a doctor.
The doctor told them
Your son is just different than others.
Perhaps the best thing is to let him be.
Who God intended him to be.
As others saw—I could not bring.
He drifted through life
Trying drugs and alcohol.
Only to find himself alone in his dreams.
His nightmares haunted his days.
He was lost in inner space,
Never relating to others.
Just could not interact with normal people.
So in the end he became like so many others
A gunman shot up a shopping mall.
My passions from a common spring—.
Today, our featured online magazine is Rust and Moth, which has been publishing quarterly since 2008. You can browse all of their past issues here. From their newest issue, I’ll point out Leah Claire Kaminski’s lyrical “Flung Girl,” and Lucia Owen’s moving “The Gardener’s Prayer.”
And now for our (optional) prompt. This one is a bit complex, so I saved it for a Sunday. It’s a Spanish form called a “glosa” – literally a poem that glosses, explains, or in some way responds to another poem. The idea is to take a quatrain from a poem that you like, and then write a four-stanza poem that explains or responds to each line of the quatrain, with each of the quatrain’s four lines, in turn, forming the last line of each stanza. Traditionally, each stanza has ten lines, but don’t feel obligated to hold yourself to that! Here’s a nice summary of the Glose or Glosa Poems
From childhood, I have not been
Like others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—
I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—
Power of Love Sidewalk Poem NaPoWriMo
My love is waiting
Waiting for me
To return
From this trip.
She is the most beautiful
Women in the world.
Have you seen her?
My Angela Lee?
Tell her I love her
Tell her I will be home
I am coming back to her.
Sidewalk poems—write a poem (or a set of them) brief enough to easily write in chalk on the sidewalk; it might fit on one sidewalk square (or a set of them down the block!)
Mathematical Poem PSH prompt
Love in a sense
Is a percentage game
You go out and meet
So many people
So many potential lovers.
In the end, you may
If you are lucky
Find the one
That is right for you.
Perhaps not
Love is like that
Plus or minus this and that.
Leading to one’s soul mate
That fills your heart
With deep love/
Prompt words
Love
Death
Health
Wealth
Dreams
Nightmares
Politics
Symbols
%
+ –
$
+
0
I picked Love and then linked it to some of the symbols
This poetry writing prompt submitted by Carol Dorf:
(Note: A version of this exercise was first published in Wingbeats II: Exercises and Practice in Poetry, which contains many generative exercises.)
from The Mathematical Poem:
There are many starting points for beginning mathematical poetry. Some begin with syllabics (Fibonacci’s are a favorite), and others emphasize the visual symbols of mathematics as Zukofsky did with the Integral and Bob Grumman does with the division sign. The mathematical poetry that I find most fascinating has both mathematical content and form.
In the “Context-Shift” poem where mathematical language is used to discuss personal life. Here’s an example of one of my “Context-Shift” poems. In this poem, I used the information I was reading about chaos theory (in Ivar Ekland’s Mathematics and the Unexpected) to write about the unexpected in my own life.
Dear Ivar,
I read your book on the unexpected.
Like most poets, I opposed mathematics
when I was young, seeing it as the converse
to feeling. The previous statement is false.
When I was very young I loved counting
and zero and even numbers. At sixteen,
I wanted to imagine calculus as a novel
of limits and motion. Yet by college,
I had learned mathematics could not correspond
to poetry in a one-to-one intensity.
Would your book have mattered to me, then?
Most likely, I would not have read it.
Today, I am sending this fan letter. Thank you
for explaining catastrophe and instability.
I spent so many years writing my way
through them. And boundaries, I kept insisting
they were psychological or geographic,
unwilling to see them as breaks
between states of matter. Your words
matter to me, a language as precise as poetry
to delineate universe and being.
Sincerely,
Carol
To begin one of these poems, fold a piece of paper in half vertically. In one column, list a few things in your life that you obsess about. In the other column write some mathematical words, symbols, or ideas. Sources for these ideas could be textbooks, web articles (in this case Wikipedia is an ok source), or odd facts you remember from school. Don’t worry too much about understanding every aspect of the idea.
Then choose one of the starting places from the first column, and let the language from the different sectors bump up against each other.
Write for 11 minutes, and then if you are so inspired, return and write on the poem for another 7 minutes.
Enjoy!
If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Superhighway Facebook Group.
Korean Food
Writer’s Digest the Smell of Korean Food Writers Digest
The Smells of Korean food
When I first encountered Korean food
I was overwhelmed by the strong smell
Bursting with fermentation and flavors
Hot, raw, sweet yet sour,
spicy, in your face mixture
of smells and flavors
everybody’s Kimchi
is a bit different
Yet they all share
A similar blend of
Alcohol
cabbage
chili peppers
fermentation
fish
fish sauce,
garlic,
onion,
red peppers,
salt
sugar
soy sauce
sometimes
made with dandelion
radish
springtime wild herbs
All rolled up in an intoxicating blend
Of smells and flavors
That was my introduction
to the lowly Kimchi
The staple of Korean food,
I soon became a kimchi addict
Craving its intoxicating flavor
And smells with every meal
Now 40 years later
I am still a kimchi addict
Enjoying the fragrance, the smell
And intoxicating tastes
Can’t get enough of that
Funky stuff.
For today’s prompt, write a smell poem. Strong writing uses sensory language, and one sense that is often overlooked is the sense of smell. So write about the pungent smell of teenage socks, the exquisite odor of fresh lasagna, or the coppery scent of a summer shower. Smell you later!
Something Fixable Gun Violence Local Gems
In this day and age
Of daily gun battles
In the streets
Of any American city.
Nine gunned down
Last night in Sacramento.
It is easy to believe
That nothing can be done
To stop the carnage
In the streets.
Just like the weather
It is the cost of our freedom
For freedom is not free.
The NRA and their minions proclaim
Guns don’t kill people
People kill people.
The wrong answer
Are more guns for everyone
If that were the answer
The U.S. perhaps the most
Heavily armed country
In the world,
With more guns
That person
Would have almost no gun
Violence.
The solutions are obvious
Stricter gun laws
Enforcement of existing gun laws.
Treating gun ownership
The same as car ownership.
Prove the ability
To fire a weapon.
Universal background checks.
purchasing liability insurance
and yes, having a license.
to own a weapon
One must know the laws and rules.
Including personal liability
If a gun is stolen
And used in the commission
Of a crime.
To have no criminal,
or mental health issues,
No history of violence.
Annual limits on purchases
No military-style assault weapons
Registration of guns
With the local police
In a nationally searchable database.
None of these measures
Which are commonplace
In most civilized societies,
Would be an undue burden
On anyone rights
Except on the rights
Of the gun merchant’s ability
To continue selling us
Weapons of war.
So, I conclude this poem
About a fixable thing
We can fix the gun problem
If we have the political courage
To stand up and say
Enough, no more gun deaths
In our American streets.
But we are moving backward
With red state after red state
Weakening or eliminating
Most gun laws.
Soon we will be living again
In the wild west days
Where gunslingers killed
With impunity.
But, sadly, nothing will be done
There will be another shooting
By the time I post this poem,
jade garden 8 jpg
Among the many sins
