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 More poems for Promptly Poetry |
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Prompt: (verb) to move to action Promptly: (adverb) : very quickly or immediately Poetry: a form of writing that no one ever reads |
I held out hope for a minute, but only a minute that's enough to change your life, or for someone to take it and change everyone else’s. Half-condolences coming from the made-up faces and typed into social spaces discussed hot buttons. It’s the rhetoric, they said, there were dangerous words. Hate is often the fear of hearing things you don’t want to hear, But when they’re running on rooftops, when they’ve got an eye on the scope, it’s not a moment of crisis or anger overwhelmed by passion. It's not an instant of blind rage, a momentary loss of control. It’s all about control, in fact, eyes wide open. Words are not violence, but a bolt action rifle in the hands of hatred is not to be debated. Hate is often the fear of hearing things you don't want to hear, It’s rough to take it on faith, to believe even for a minute That you can change the future, but there’s hope anyway. Someone might see the danger to our freedom and cry out so another son, another daughter won’t grow up fatherless. So another mother, another father won’t know the pain of losing love to those who have no heart to hold it. Hate is often the fear of hearing things you don’t want to hear. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)"  Prompt/Week # 4 Poetry Form: Bop The bop is a new form of poetry introduced by poet Afaa Michael Weaver. It is an argumentative form, like the sonnet, with three stanzas, each with a purpose in the argument. The first six-line stanza introduces the problem, the second eight-line stanza expands upon it, and the final six-line stanza explains the solution or failed attempts. There is a repeated refrain line after each stanza. |
| It was just a yellow afternoon We didn't know it was the last chance day. But there on the table lay, All the words we would never say. I was twenty-five that year. I remember feeling old, And those secrets we never told, Fearful of what the silence might hold. We were so stupid young back then,. Still,I cannot would not change it now. I wanted all that love would allow But we became other people, somehow I was twenty-five that year. Once, I wish I’d been bolder, Rested my head on your shoulder. But that was when I was twenty-five - And now, I am older. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)" Round 6 Week 3 Prompt -In celebration of WdC's 25th Anniversary, write a poem involving the number 25 or a birthday/anniversary celebration. |
I want to comfort you in your darkness to show you the light that is coming. I want you to see how it is held in the shadowy arms of giants. They let it fall in drops from fluttering fingers upon the fresh breath of morning. How it glistens! in dewy kisses on the grass. I want you to be inspired, I want you to rise with me in the fire at daybreak. I want to be a new flame burning in your cheeks. Let me dry the tears that soak your pillow, and I will quench the bitter streams that flow from the aching loneliness of your dreams. PPC 6 Prompt/Week # 2 Use these words in your poem: KISS - DAYBREAK - TEAR (or tears) |
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