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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) |
| I remember August, its spikes of brown grass scratching and stabbing between my toes. I remember the crabapple, how it seized my cheeks in a pucker so I hucked it at the tree trunk. I remember the circle dripping juice and flesh fresh on wrinkled bark - the mark of summer alliances. I remember a circle of kings. A council holding court sitting on tree limbs and surveying our sunny kingdom, ruling by divine right of Summer. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)" Round 6 Week 1 Prompt/Week # 1 Title your poem: I Remember and then write a poem about a memory, real or imagined. |
| two hundred million miles and nothing in the space between speeding in your godship spinning in protective hibernation far from the discomfort of “how was your day?” and “should we move to Fresno?” no decisions about dinner or furniture or about us no trying to fill the space between two lost souls whose hearts fail to launch leaving only the empty space in the place between here and Mars Written for Promptly Poetry 5 Week 52 Prompt - The title of your poem should be The Place In Between |
| Truth chafes like a belt, two notches too small for all we accept. So we choose the lie, an excuse - its fit is loose. Word Count: 24 Written for PPC 5 Week #51 "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)" Prompt: Write a poem that is no more than 25 words long. |
| My heart dropped and spilled its contents on the floor, a box of unwanted memories I kept locked behind a door. Like shadows their exaggerated forms, mimed the past while they mocked me, stirred the dust up into storms. What a task to gather all the pieces to reposit, then to neatly forget all about you once back in memory’s closet. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)" Week 50 Prompt - a locked door |
| What are the chances that a melody can bring so much to me memories of you, teaching and guiding me? What are the chances that the music of my life began on vinyl discs that you spun on the hi-fi? Secret moments when the parents were away a jigsaw spread upon the table the sibling-babysitter playing dee-jay and the forbidden beats of rock n roll were soothed by the dulcet ballads of Johnny Mathis What are the chances that we all wore silly grins and a smile still creeps across my face with the memory of you? Though time and loss separate us now I would thank you if I could And tell you that after all these years the chances are awfully good. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)" Prompt/Week # 49 Write about a song you love. Ideas: Think about how the song makes you feel. Does it bring back memories for you? Does the song remind you of someone? Who? |
Change catastrophic circumstance sudden catalyst for change unwelcome and unbidden exposing fears once hidden shifting stable foundations stirring new aspirations cracking open the future Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)" Week 48 In celebration of the 7th day of the 7th month, write a poem with 7 lines and 7 syllables per line! You choose the topic. |
| Cupcakes and lemonade, A marching band, a big parade, A colorful banner that you made, That is not my birthday. Confetti and ribbons on the floor, Gifts and gushes of love galore, While I shout: “Give me more!” That is not my birthday, A quiet day, at home relaxing No “To Do” list, nothing taxing No one mentions the date that’s passing This is a day like any other and definitely not my birthday so don’t mention it on Facebook. Please! Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)" Prompt Week 47 Image: a table with gifts set up for a party |
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