Connie's Center
35 posts in this topic.
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Let's see where poetry will take me this year, but this sounds cool.
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Week 1: Write a poem for a New Years resolution.
I -
I used to like making resolutions,
written on scraps of paper collected
from old, worn-down notebooks.
II -
I found myself in front of my laptop,
the screen a painting of colors and swirls
that seemed so bright in a dark room.
III -
I had never really spent a New Years alone
until just this year, surrounded by low-light
with videos to chatter in my ears.
IV -
I don't have any true goals, not anymore,
too busy catching my breath in fragile hopes
and wishing for a wave to wash over me.
V -
I think I'd be better off changing my mood,
not just my habits, into something closer
to a sparkling sun than a shadowed star. -
Week Two: With it being a new year, describe freedom for you. Define freedom by your own mind or describe the feeling you have versus the feeling you seek.
But don’t use words such as: I, me, you, or others in that group.
words float in front,
waiting to be latched
onto and used in
a conversation.
talking isn't possible
yet, too busy grasping
onto colored straws
and having them crack
like a voice can.
one day, maybe,
the time will come
to thrust snippets into
lines that come off as
witty and smart.
a wish on a star could
bring the ability to yell,
to shout joys and worries
and extrapolate feelings
to an open world. -
Week Three: Write a poem about a historical event.
the dust bowl/migration
once the dust-filled air settled,
people with drawn-on smiles
started packing the few things
they hadn’t lost to the storm,
or the machines invading their
once loved crops.
most fled to the promise of
the grassy fields of the west,
yet no one knew of what
really laid in the green pastures:
the smell of burnt fruit lining
broken down cars that laid
abandoned. -
Week Four: Write a poem about an animal, without mentioning the name of the animal. Just anything you want but focus on strong imagery and metaphors.
little ripples swirled as
the ship, ever tall with levels
of square windows and few
peering heads out of
dark gray doors.
then, came one curious
creature, disrupted by the
large boat, scurrying out
from underneath, and
trying to float away,
skipping like a rock
does, but eventually
falling back into
the deep blue waters.
soon others join that
lone, brave soul,
sending dozens of
pulsing figures,
disturbed by the sounds
of horns and the
rumbling of engines.
the last few trickle out,
eventually leaving the
once riled up ocean
to calm again, moving
back to small waves. -
Week Five: For this week, revise your week 1 poem.
i like resolutions on colored scraps
that paint my screen in swirls and
contrast blank walls.
low-light pierces through fragile hopes
and leave me to wish on a star
that i can change. -
Redoing Poem of the Week, week 1 - picture prompt of a snowman!
with the new year
comes the new snow,
a fresh wave of white
upon a once dark canvas
even if we’re in a world
where that doesn’t
occur naturally.
and i hope that with
the new year,
the new decade,
there can be better
things in front of me
that are invisible
for right now. -
redoing poem a week
1.0
ah, yes, one may be a bookcase
if one wants to lie on their side
or stand upright till the end of time
or they may be a couch, not a
potato, no, but a couch that allows
families to all sit on soft cushions
or maybe one ought to be a light
that obeys solely on another’s
instructions until it loses all power
for some, the possibilities outweigh
the anvils of doubt, but some still
need a balloon to hold their hopes. -
0.2
a blackout poem
plain words:
From a flash
the hummingbird
sat
the little brook
for tea
moments there
a young -
3.0 - Voice
- based on a character from the Raven Cycle book series.
he was more backwater hick than all the actors
in the movies would try to be, a tickle of a southern,
twang accent in his voice, too strong to not be a
consequence of being from this place, and too weak
to mean that he was anything else than trailer trash
but wait, he wasn't supposed to call himself that
anymore, not from the one that was christened
by ravens and ran amongst the murky waters in
caves and dreams and caves in dreams, and
blessed him with dream-formed hand cream
yet he was back here outside the trailer, outside
the trash he left behind that still laid in his veins,
pumping with every heart beat reminding him
from whence he came, and he clutches at his
palms, digging his fingernails in deeper, as if to
tell himself that the pain meant he did have
something of value, that he wasn't just nothing. -
4.0 exercise
if i close my eyes
i can pretend that
instead of a squat
jump i’m flying,
just for a second
or like a horse
because when a
horse gallops it
has all of its
hooves off the
ground,
but it can only last
until i’m back
on my feet again. -
5.0 weather
is the sky orange
because we’ve doomed
ourselves to a date
worse than the
underground that
rests under our soles?
is the sun crimson
because earth decided
to punish her people
that allowed for
toxicity that seeps
inside innocent nature?
but the air is thick,
the clouds are murky,
and ash became our
new neighbors. -
6.0 a text
okay,
o k a y
does a word lose its meaning when
you repeat it
because i know i’ve heard okay
for months on end without a break
because how can anyone say
their truth
when the world is crumbling?
i don’t think i’m okay. -
7.0 am i even following the prompts anymore ? idk
i've got a few different story strands
that i never weaved to form a sweater
or, it's not weaved, is it? rather knitted,
or sewn, but i've never had the skills for
that, much like i've never had the skills for
finishing a third chapter, or finishing a scene
that really only needs three hundred more taps
why can't i get the words to pop up on the screen?
why do i keep losing my thought in the middle of a line? -
Hope you don't mind me barging in on your thread! Just wanted to say I love the enjambments in this last poem; they're so fitting with the theme.
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