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 Entries to The Daily Poem Contest. |
It makes sense to keep them all in one place. 
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| Thoughts on the Roof What if my mind were weightless with thoughts like hard seeds within little nuggets of potential in waiting for the day when I fall to earth my dreams sprouting roots and stems to spread into the loam of life as my rotten being decays in death? I really should get out more. Line count: 8 Free verse For The Daily Poem, 03.09.26 Prompt #8 for March: Photo of person sitting on car roof amid mountains - thoughts only, nothing concretely relating to the senses (no see, hear, touch, taste, smell). |
| A Curious Tail Anna Chronism had a thing for getting things she oughta - she wore a watch but not a ring that I had never bought her. She travelled by the underground built by her friend Attila. “Oh, hun,” she said, “I need a pound of doughnuts from the miller.” Buzz Armstrong offered gallantly to buy rock cakes instead, but Anna answered silently she’d rather end up dead. And so the lady went without, elevenses forgotten. I see her often riding out with her friend, Johnny Rotten. Line count: 16 Rhymed abab For The Daily Poem, 03.07.26 Prompt #7 for March: Anachronism - Don't use time, future, past, history, period (or any derivatives of those words). |
| Skin I’ve heard it’s skin that keeps you in or you’d get out and roam about which may be true at least for you but it being best of all the rest to stay inside your bounding hide and so avoid the yawning void. Keeps out the rain and muffles pain. Line count: 14 Rhymed aabb For The Daily Poem, 03.05.26 Prompt #5 for March: Skin - Use a blank space intentionally. |
| The Ballad of Hip Replacement I’m not now quite as pliable as once I certainly was. They called me Mr Reliable and I’d not have been fazed by Oz. But age has hardened my take - I tend not to bend but break and my body has learned how to ache. Line count: 7 Rhymed abab ccc For The Daily Poem, 03.04.26 Prompt #4 for March: Pliable - Make your poem either 7 or 17 lines. |
| Patrol Five trees in the winter waste, clones of each other embattled, by blizzard winters faced, in military formation shackled. Alone in the world they stand, by all companions deserted, holdouts in isolation grand, with emptiness they’re skirted. Like a patrol in no man’s land, their service beyond reason, they brave the enemy’s hand, and dream of other seasons. Line count: 12 Rhymed abab For The Daily Poem, 03.03.26 Prompt: Photo of five trees standing alone in an empty, snowy field. |
| Don’t Cry for me Argentina Maradona, in going for the header, might really have done a lot better (though it’s doubtful he’d have been much deader) if his hand had not been the netter. Or such is the view of the English, having watched again in slow motion, and claim that they certain distinguish the action that caused such commotion. But my countrymen’s faces are redder, though the year of eight-six has long flown, the mem’ry of that fated non-header still gives them occasion to moan. Line count: 12 Rhymed abab For The Daily Poem, 03.02.26 Prompt: Header. |
| Swinging I don’t care what anyone says, it’s my swing as well as Ellie May’s. And I still say it was my turn, the first rule that I had to learn. Anyway I don’t see why my swinging should make her cry. She can swing when my turn is done and wait while I’m having my fun. Line count: 8 Rhyming couplets For The Daily Poem, 03.02.26 Prompt. Illustration of child swinging - Write from the POV of a child. |
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