Category Archives: prompt

16 June 2013

A MUST-READ POET – PROMPT #112

Your life is an open book; a best seller. Your poem is the blurb from the back cover. It doesn’t need to be strictly on the level. Let your imagination and ambition color your background. What have you done; what do you dream of doing? Consider it accomplished and write your blurb.

MARIE ELENA’S RUN-ON DREAM:

“Our truest life is when we are in dreams, awake.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

If success…

is measured by pleasure

that graces wee faces;

the glee you see as they adorn the knee

of the one who will read and quench their need

for story in rhyme, and take the time

to let small fingers linger and point

and think it a treat to repeat and repeat

the giggley, squiggely words for the wiggley

who can’t get enough of her picture book stuff,

then yes, she’s been blessed with the grandest success.

WALT”S BLURB:

WORDS OF WALT

Years of struggling have paid off,
others scoff at Walt’s success, but the rest
of the world knew what he went through
to reach his dream. His ninth poetry
collection has taken perfection and
although turning it down a notch,
raised the bar to secure future success.
His best is yet to come,and some
find that hard to believe. Looks deceive
but his words tell it like it is.
Entitled “Bullcrap Sells,” this may well be.

We’d also like to wish all the dads out there a very happy Father’s Day. It’s one of the toughest jobs on the planet, and hopefully one of the most rewarding.

Walt, we’d love to see a photo out here of you with your gorgeous daughters. *hint, hint* Happy Father’s Day, Pard!

The “Official” family wedding portrait (I’m flanked by my daughters)

Andrea and Melissa

115 comments | posted in Achievement, prompt

9 June 2013

PUZZLE PIECES – PROMPT #111

By Poetic Bloomings

Today, you are given random nudges, the replies to which will become the pieces to your poetic puzzle.

1. Your mother’s first name.
2. A wild animal.
3. A city you’ve never visited, but would like to.
4. A hobby.
5. A mode of transportation.
6. Your least favorite vegetable.
7. A “lucky” number.
8. Your favorite color.
9. Three random words.
10. Historical event.
11. A childhood friend.
12. The street on which you grew up.

You can write in any form, meter and rhyme scheme.

Your title will be the answer to #1 + the second random word in #9.

MAYBE MARIE:

Patricia’s Summer (a haibun)

Though it was November and quite chilly for the locals, its touch and texture was summer to Patricia as she walked the early morning beaches of Naples. She strolled leisurely, taking mental note of individual grains of sand as they caressed her toes. She considered the beached sea kale, noticing minute nuances of emerald tones. She bent to pick up a particularly lovely shade, when she spotted a baby seahorse — no longer alive, but perfectly formed. Patricia coddled her in her palm, contemplating whether or not to return her to the gulf of her birth. Instead, she wrapped her in sea kale, and placed her in her pocket with coquina and golden olive. She smiled as she recalled lessons learned on Belmont as a child – lessons of the Calusa “Shell Indians.” Her childhood friend, Summer, loved to learn and speak of early Indian tribes. She was the one who had introduced Patricia to this little-known tribe. Now here she was on their beaches, far from her northern roots — farther still in distant time and culture. Stroking the smooth shells in her pocket, she pondered these resourceful shell seekers, and mourned their extinction.

Returning home, Patricia re-opened a letter from Summer, to which she had not taken time to respond. She reached for the ornate treasure box Summer had made for her years ago. In it, she placed her letter, the shells, kale, and seahorse, a dozen grains of beach sand, and her obituary. She placed the box on a sun-dappled shelf, and marked it “Forever Summer.”

Branch beyond your roots

Be mindful in the present

Gather memories

SURELY WALT:

IRENE’S GARDEN

Roller skates without a key
were useless as anyone can see,
And Irene truly knew the score
(though she’s never been to Baltimore)

She planted butt upon the couch
but sat upon her tiger (ouch)
which gave the large cat cause to cry,
and a piece of Irene’s rhubarb pie.

Her friend Susie lived on Wood Street,
her house was Navy Blue
with fourteen pickets in her fence
(you could see right through).

Susie had a veggie garden
that she dug with a spoon,
to make a dish to go with fish,
to eat walking on the moon.

Irene and Susie were in tune,
in fact, they were connecting,
but were caught raiding mail boxes,
(they called it, stamp collecting!)

205 comments | posted in prompt, Puzzle, Random

2 June 2013

MONUMENTS AND LANDMARKS – PROMPT #110

By Poetic Bloomings

For some reason, when someone stops to ask us for directions we tend to lead them based on points of interest that we assume they have a vague idea of knowing.

But we’re not asking for directions. Here is your charge: Choose a local monument or landmark of some import to your locale. Make that the subject of your poem or at least a major point in said verse. Any style, rhymed or not, metered or not… the only direction you are given is to be our tour guide and sell the sight!

Marie is slowly making her way back, although I’m not sure if she’ll join us for this prompt or start fresh next week. Either way, we anticipate her return.

MARIE ELENA’S RETURN

Almost Home

The sun peeks in the train’s window

Where I found sleep

sound and deep

awakening me to its rising

over bean green or wheat brown

acres

red barns

white or brick farm houses

picket fences

my heart senses

I’m almost home.

WALT’S POINT OF INTEREST:

Buffalo’s New York Central Terminal

RESTORATION:
Life Support

A tower rises, a beacon
seen from far and wide.
inside, the hollow shell
of a once upon a station.
New York Central’s
less than Grand sister.
She missed her heyday.
Fallen into decay
but restoration on the way.
Terminal clinging to life.

227 comments | posted in Landmark, Monument, prompt

19 May 2013

BAD FORM / BAD POEM – PROMPT #108

By Poetic Bloomings

Each week Marie and I have a difficult time choosing poems for the BEAUTIFUL BLOOMS because… well, they’re all that good. But here is the test.

For this week’s prompt, we want you to write a “Bad” poem. Surely, you can write about something bad. But really we want you to write a “bad” poem – a horrible poem… a completely atrocious poem. It could be written to form badly, for bad form to a poem is the worst. Lock your muse in a closet and let your inner bad poet loose, if only for one week. Be bad and you’ll be rewarded.

MARIE ELENA’S BAD:

A Measly Poem

Roses are red

Violets are blue

If I had the measles,

I’d give them to you.

Then we’d both be sick

Doing, what do you think?

Just scratching our heads

Writing po-ems that stink.

You think THIS is shamelessly

Bad and oblique?

Well check out the po-em

I posted last week!

© Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013

TERRIBLE WALT’S:

HORRIBLE HAIKU

Nature in short verse
Written in the classic style
Three lines, seventeen
syllables done badly.

© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

618 comments | posted in Bad poetry, prompt, Uncategorized

12 May 2013

WHAT’S IN A NAME? – PROMPT #107

By Poetic Bloomings

Before we begin, Marie and I would like to wish every mother out there a very

Happy Mother’s Day!

All you incredible women who are both life giving and nurturing, make everything possible. Your dedication to your families is unwavering and much appreciated.

I offer an extra nod to Marie , just because I can. My mom will have been gone for 27 years this Christmas and I know how hard she struggled to give us a good life. You all do such a hard job without so much as a thank you. So, let me say, “Thank you, Mom” to each Mother today.

****

And now…

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.”

~Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

The Bard had it right. What is in a name? You’re about to find out.

In the process of writing this poem, you are asked to go to

WORDSMITH’S ANAGRAM FINDER

Place your full name in the search box. Then use ONLY the resulting words or phrases found in the letters of your name in constructing your poem.

This technique was used for the NaPoWriMo 2013 Day 24 prompt.

You will find that what’s in a name makes for some interesting poetry!

MARIE ELENA’S MISSING NAME:

Drat! Mine went missing somehow, and so I just now quickly wrote a different one. Try writing with no “S,” no “T,” and no “H!” Yikes! I must also write a disclaimer: I mean no disrespect to our fine gentleman poet, Earl Parsons. Just couldn’t resist writing of old Meanie Earl.

Walt, thank you so very much for the kind thoughts. I know you, my Keith, and so many others miss your moms terribly. I could not be more thankful for mine.

Ode to Meanie Earl

Meanie Earl made me “oar”

More and more and more and more!

Meanie Earl, I do agree

I am, I am a leaner me!

Oh – and that “leaner me” bit? Don’t believe it for a second. Sheer poetic fantasy!

WALT’S SELF-NAMED NUMBER:

THIS JOINT TAKEN TO TASK

John Joseph was seen near the twin towers
when last he spoke to the waiter.
Ratlike he walks; there is her ink
on his inept heart. The town’s newest thespian
was shaken; the weakest titan worn,
they let these jerks rejoin the war.
What’s a joker to think?
No network wrote their tales,
Joseph the janitor takes a slow sweep
and the rest join in his trek to the top.
He wasn’t the one to stop, shake, joke or jest.
This poet knelt in pain,
he was written to his knees.
There were no pleas spoken.

199 comments | posted in anagram, prompt

5 May 2013

NOW, THAT’S FUNNY – PROMPT #106

By Poetic Bloomings

Did you hear the one about…

Stop me if you’ve heard this one…

Everyone loves or has heard a good joke or pun. Your mission this week is to draw on your sense of humor – use a punchline from your favorite joke as your inspiration, and then write that poem.

It could be something funny a friend or sibling or parent says that makes you smile. Whatever brings joy to your heart is fair game.

“These two guys walk into a poem…”

MARIE ELENA’S KNEE SLAPPER:

I Don’t Get It.

My dad used to say (as he’d smirk with delight)

“Don’t tell her a joke on a Saturday night –

Or you’ll be the cause of her serious gaffe when

Sunday in church, she is bustin’ up laughin’!”

WALT’S SIDE SPLITTER:

TWINS

Acting brothers
standing tall,
to fill a part
that was not small.
They came as two
to the casting call,
but if you’ve seen Juan,
you’ve seen Amal.”

222 comments | posted in humor, prompt, Uncategorized

21 April 2013

TIME FLIES WHEN YOU’RE HAVING FUN – PROMPT# 104

By Poetic Bloomings

Can you believe it? With today’s prompt we celebrate the completion of our second full year at POETIC BLOOMINGS. We have explored many ideas and forms, and we published our first collection – POETIC BLOOMINGS – The First Year. The gears are in motion for our second installment. We have completed an ambitious twenty-week MEMOIR CHAPBOOK PROJECT with amazing results.We have supported and nurtured one another, celebrated and mourned, and we stand as strong as ever going into our third year.

Marie and I hope you continue to plant your poetic seeds in our garden and share in the bouquet of beauty that grows here each week.

****

Now our prompt: Time flies when you’re having fun! We’ve heard that throughout our lives. In the movies, time passing is depicted as a clock or sundial in time-lapse photography in rapid motion. We see hair gray up and other parts sag down. So for this poem, we want you to write a poem that shows the passing of time. The first part will center upon something you enjoyed or did as a child. The second part will focus on your perspective on that activity and how age has changed/enhanced your vision.

We thank you so much for your participation and continued support. WE ARE ALL POETIC BLOOMINGS! Grow beautifully!

MARIE ELENA’S PERSPECTIVE:

“The pourer is considered the guardian of the teapot, which implies sterling social graces and profound trust.” ~ Mike Lininger (Editor, Etiquette Scholar)

TEA PARTIES WITH TOM

Growing up together

Play clothes and bare feet

Giggles galore

Teensy Dixie bathroom cups

Grandma’s garden hose

Sipping “tea”

Distended tummies

Little ones

Bathroom runs

Decades flee

Family gatherings

Memories revisited

(Teasing notwithstanding)

We’ll never live it down

Giggles galore

You pour

early twenties

early fifties

Love ya, Cuz!

WALT’S LIFE SPAN:

GONE FISHING!

Along the railroad tracks
behind my grandfather’s garden,
Smokes Creek winds a serpentine
path rushing to feed Erie’s ravenous
hunger. A sloping bank beneath the trellis;
a bamboo pole and can of worms,
tranquility comes in nary a nibble.
The act becomes the pact made
between me and the Maker.
A good escape for a fish faker.

I have not found such serenity
since youth had offered its kind hand,
it’s every man for himself and a shelf full
of life that happens at the speed of sound.
If I wasn’t grounded I would have found
a replacement, a place meant to give me peace.
But memory is a strong bridge, reaching back
to grab lost moments in mind. I can return
with my eyes closed, knowing my seat
on the sloping bank awaits. Worms optional.

244 comments | posted in prompt, Two-Year Celebration, Uncategorized

14 April 2013

APRIL SHOWERS! – PROMPT #103

By Poetic Bloomings

Photo Credit -
autumn-sunshine.net

In Buffalo, we’ve been inundated with heavy downpours, so this prompt is simple. Write a rain poem. They say April showers bring May flowers. My daughter is getting married at the end of May and will be needing the blooms. Combine any of the above to write your piece. Rain, April/May, Flowers, Beautiful Brides (Yes, I am biased! – Walt)

MARIE ELENA’S RAIN HAIKU:

Tap spring patter step
Raindrops on a tin roof stage
Gratis performance

RAIN ON THE TIN ROOF OF “OUR” CABIN IN THE HOCKING HILLS OF OHIO

(Thanks to Keith Good for the audio/video clip.)

WALT’S REIGNING POEM:

SEVENTH INNING DRENCH

Bleacher seats along the third base line,
which are fine when the sun shines.
But an April start has us darting for cover.
Baseball lovers with slickers and gloves
watching the grounds crew wrap the infield;
tarps unrolled and the old game takes another hit.
We didn’t sit for very long before the strong
downpour had begun. The only run was for the exit.
Rain check in tow; we’ll give it a go tomorrow.

In keeping with the “Rain” theme, I’ve always thought this was pretty amazing:

A Chorus that recreates “Rain”

349 comments | posted in prompt, Rain

7 April 2013

PROMPT #102. Ekphrastic Poetry – 2013 Photo Prompt #2

By Poetic Bloomings

Photo credit: MARJORY M. THOMPSON

THIS IS YOUR PROMPT. WHAT DOES IT SAY TO YOU?

(Thanks to Marjory M. Thompson [aka MMT] for use of her photo)

MARIE ELENA’S POEM

Inhabiting Moments

There was a day when life moved at the speed of carriage; when intimacy waited for marriage. Evening meals were planned, prepared and, following prayer, shared.

Dim the light.

Rewrite the greed.

Linger.

Proceed

Gently though the years, before time disappears.

WALT’S LIMIT

SLOW DOWN, YOU”RE MOVING TOO FAST

Up to speed traveling
on the path of least resistance.
Upon his heart’s insistence,
it’s pedal to the metal.
Despite speed bumps, he will
take his lumps and move along.
Don’t limit his progress,
or he’ll plow you down!

263 comments | posted in Ekphrastic Poem, Photo Prompt, prompt

31 March 2013

WHICH CAME FIRST, THE RABBIT OR THE EGG? – PROMPT# 101

By Poetic Bloomings

HAPPY EASTER!

Simply, write an Easter poem. Your piece can be faith based, as it is the biggest day in the Christian church calendar. Or it can be a secular Easter poem bringing to mind chocolate rabbits, colored eggs and such. You can pen a poem of rebirth, or a poem about coming back from a set back.

MARIE ELENA’S POEM

Risen, Indeed!

Pondering the blood-drenched tree

There but for His mercy, me

Tear-stained face, I bow the knee

Hallelujah! He is risen!

Low, for me His blood was drained

Love entombed, yet not contained

Absolution, as ordained

Hallelujah! He is risen!

Image credit: http://joyknitcrochet.blogspot.com/2011/01/egg-cracking-expert.html

WALT’S POEM:

THE HUNT IS ON!

Woven baskets brightly colored,
hidden in the thicket, near the picket
fence. Let the search commence.
Scurrying under the privet,
bunny rabbits head for cover
and over by the gate the children
take a peek for the prizes they seek.
Services have concluded but the thrill
has not eluded these excited souls.
The hunt is on, let the fun begin!

158 comments | posted in Easter, prompt, Uncategorized

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