Free Updates
Receive an email when new
posts are added!
Navigation
Categories
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

July, 2010 (8)
June, 2010 (11)
May, 2010 (12)
April, 2010 (36)
March, 2010 (19)
February, 2010 (6)
January, 2010 (7)
December, 2009 (8)
November, 2009 (30)
October, 2009 (13)
September, 2009 (12)
August, 2009 (11)
July, 2009 (20)
June, 2009 (16)
May, 2009 (13)
April, 2009 (42)
March, 2009 (19)
February, 2009 (13)
January, 2009 (17)
December, 2008 (15)
November, 2008 (31)
October, 2008 (18)
September, 2008 (13)
August, 2008 (22)
July, 2008 (23)
June, 2008 (18)
May, 2008 (25)
April, 2008 (47)
March, 2008 (15)
February, 2008 (14)
January, 2008 (14)
December, 2007 (15)
November, 2007 (24)
October, 2007 (41)
September, 2007 (33)
August, 2007 (36)
July, 2007 (48)
June, 2007 (9)
Search
Archives
<July 2010>
SunMonTueWedThuFriSat
27282930123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031
1234567

Blogroll
 Amanda Johnston
 Avoiding the Muse
 Bookslut blog
 Cave Canem blog
 Every Other Day
 Home-Schooled by a Cackling Jackal
 Humanophone
 Inky Girl
 MFA Confidential Blog
 Mike Shatzkin
 Poetry Hut Blog
 Promptly
 Questions & Quandaries
 Script Notes
 Silliman's Blog
 The Academy of American Poets
 The Guide to Literary Agents Blog
 The Poetry Foundation
 The Poetry Society of America
 There Are No Rules
 This Writer's Life
 WhimsyLand / Jeffery Bahr
 Writer Unboxed

Writing Resources
Writer's Digest magazine
Writer's forum
Writing Books
WritersMarket.com
Writers Online Workshops
Writer's Digest Book Club

# Tuesday, March 31, 2009
April PAD Challenge 2009: Rules & Blah-blah-blah
Posted by Robert

I'm so excited (and I just can't hide it)--tomorrow is when April begins, which means tomorrow is when the Poetic Asides April PAD Challenge begins! (Oh yeah!)

Last night, I gathered some rules and answers to some frequently asked questions. Here they are:

The low down on the April PAD Challenge:

  • The Challenge starts with the Day 1 prompt on April 1, 2009, and ends at midnight (EST) on April 30, 2009.
  • To be eligible for the eBook, poems must be posted in the Comments for the correct prompt. (So, if you’re writing a poem for a prompt on rainy day poems, you need to paste your rainy day poem in the comments for that prompt.)
  • Each poem entered with the appropriate prompt will be eligible for the eBook; it doesn’t matter if you participate on one day, 10 days, or all 30 days. The eBook is completely separate of the completion certificate and badge.
  • You must post a poem for all 30 prompts to receive the completion certificate and badge.
  • Please do not email poems to me. This includes sending them to me through social networking sites, such as Facebook, MySpace, and Twitter. It's not that I don't like hearing from you (because I love communicating with y'all), but poems that aren't posted directly to the blog won't count for the challenge or the eBook. I just know I won't have the time this April to sort them all out.
  • During the month of April, you can fall behind and catch up at any point for both the eBook and the completion certificate and badge; that is, until midnight (EST) on April 30, 2009.
  • To be eligible for the 2009 Poetic Asides Poet Laureate honor, you must participate throughout the month. (No payment for this post, but also no concrete responsibilities.)
  • I advise that you save a copy of your poem somewhere other than on the blog. While it doesn’t happen frequently, there have been times when the blog has dropped Comments; so please be safer than sorrier.
  • Participation is free.
  • No special registration is required; just show up and post a poem for the appropriate prompt. (I’ll go through and figure it out later on.)
  • Poets keep copyright to their work—even if selected for the eBook.
  • Poems should be previously unpublished and written during the month of April 2009; that’s kind of the point of the whole thing, you know.
  • There will be "Two for Tuesday" prompts on Tuesdays again this year. You only have to do one of the prompts, though I know some of you are overachievers and will write poems for both.
  • Unfortunately, I won't be able to highlight poems during the month of April (as I at least partially did last year), because I'm going to be super busy this month with getting Writer's Market and Poet's Market together.
  • However, I encourage everyone to give shout outs to fellow poets who write poems you particularly like. It not only helps that particular poet feel good, but I think it benefits everyone.

Judging for the eBook will work this way:

  • On May 1, I (and possibly my wife Tammy) will begin narrowing down the April poems to 5 finalists for each day.
  • Then sometime around the middle of May, we’ll give our list of Top 5’s to the guest judges.
  • Then, the guest judges will pick their favorite poem for their specific day.
  • Then, I’ll look at the remaining 120 poems and pick my favorite 20 of those.
  • This will result in 50 poems making it into the eBook, which will hopefully be ready for FREE distribution sometime during the summer.
  • Remember: Judging is very subjective and making it into the eBook is meant to be an extra bonus. Don't get upset or worry that you're not writing good stuff if your poems don't make it in the eBook.

How to add a poem to the Comments:

  • Click on the Comments link for the particular day’s post (you can practice with this post).
  • Scroll to bottom of the page and enter your name and email (so that I can contact you, if needed).
  • Paste your poem into the Comments box.
  • Enter the code shown.
  • Click Save Comment.

(Note: Always check to make sure your poem posted; sometimes, you need to enter the code a few times before your comment posts.)

 

Hopefully, this covers most of the bases. I'll add any revisions if I've forgotten to address a question or two.

 

I can't wait to see y'all tomorrow morning!


General | Personal Updates | Poetry Challenge 2009 | Poetry News | Poetry Prompts
Bookmark and Share
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 12:38:48 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)  #  Comments [333] 
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 1:20:03 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Are you going to post the Top 5 for each day somewhere? Or do we only get to hear about the top 50 making the Ebook?

Thanks for posting the rules -- this should be fun. :)
Julie Bloss Kelsey
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 1:29:11 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Yes, I think I will post the Top 5 for each day after the guest judges make their decisions--even if it's just a list of who all the finalists were.

Btw, as a reminder, the guest judges are (in no particular order):

* Dorianne Laux
* Aimee Nezhukumatathil
* Sandra Beasley
* Jericho Brown
* Collin Kelley
* Martha Silano
* J.P. Dancing Bear
* Mary Biddinger
* Vince Gotera
* Jeannine Hall Gailey
* Edward Byrne
* Alex Lemon
* Marilyn Nelson
* Shaindel Beers
* Seth Abramson
* Don Share
* Reb Livingston
* Annie Finch
* Jim Daniels
* Nick Flynn
* Mark Doty
* Amy King
* Guy LeCharles Gonzalez
* S.A. Griffin
* Chad Prevost
* Tom C. Hunley
* Diane Lockward
* Anne Tardos
* Patricia Smith
* Sage Cohen

Robert Lee Brewer
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 1:29:57 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Thanks for coordinating this. It should be fun!
Sharon Spielman
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 1:35:41 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
(this for fun)

Poems come and poems go
Like so many face-full travelers
You want to know,
But the clock says no.

Yet poetry never leaves.
It burrows in
To memory, like sin
And lingers there and greaves.
Michael1917
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 1:56:33 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Quick question - are "Found Poems" eligble for the April PAD? And I am assuming that all "Found Poems" should be labeled as so. Don't know it there is a policy on that or what. Also, do you know if there are copywrite issues if you find a poem in say a cookbook or instruction manual? Thanks!
Alison Linnitt
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 2:03:30 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
If our original poems are written in April 2009, can we also post them in our own blogs? Will these items still be eligible?
Linda Ann Nickerson
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 2:18:38 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I applaud you for getting all of this together AND writing poems yourself all month. Don't know how you do it.
January G. O'Neil
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 2:19:38 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Looking forward to participating, and good to know I can play catch-up at any point in the game.
Kathy Kehrli
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 2:26:47 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I love the discipline of this. I try to write (free-write) daily, but y'know how it goes with no one checking on me! lol

I also love the challenge of a daily prompt... really stretches the person to accommodate that! Bravo!
Carol Bachofner
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 2:27:28 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Here comes those roller coaster butterflies again . . .

. . . Please keep your hands inside the vehicle and remain seated until the ride comes to a complete stop.

Woo hoo! Let the games begin! :)
PSC in CT
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 2:50:43 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just to address the few questions:

* I'm not sure about Found poems. For one, the found poems would need to fit the prompt. Seems like it'd be more productive to create a poem. That said, I "find" poems every day by writing down lines overheard by people in conversation, over the radio, etc. So, do what you gotta do, I guess. (Not sure about the copyright issue--if you've found something that's protected by copyright, you would need to request permission to use, I would think.)

* Yes, you can post your poem on your personal blog, too. (And it'd be great if you link to the prompt on Poetic Asides, though I'm not going to police anything like that--do what you want.) After all, you still control copyright, and this is meant to be more about fun than anything else really.
Robert Lee Brewer
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 2:55:50 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Count me in. I've been on other projects long enough--it's time to get back to poems.
Jim Coppoc
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 2:56:39 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Thank you for doing this again, Robert. It makes April the "coolest month".
John Mucha
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 3:01:27 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Expecting a grandson
about any day
but thought I would try
this poetry play
If I am gone
You will know why
I'll try to be back
in the falsh of an eye
Raini Bowles
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 3:23:17 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Thanks for putting all this together Robert!
Ryan Collins
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 3:25:09 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
just droppin' by to say hi :-)
Chocolate Waters
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 3:46:35 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Great idea. Eager to begin!
Barbara Moore
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 3:50:46 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Howdie, I've been really looking forward to participating in this poem a day challenge. Thank you for thinking this thing up. O..O
Neal Freeland
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 4:02:45 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just making sure the computer skills aren't too rusty or underdeveloped to participate. Let's hope the same for the poetry skills! Looking forward to the challenge and inspiration. Thank you.
Elise Huneke Stone
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 4:11:26 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I can't wait to participate this year, and I'm posting an April PAD challenge post on my book review blog...who knows maybe some of my buddies will join me in posting poems for the challenge.

Thanks for coordinating this challenge.
Serena (Savvy Verse & Wit)
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 4:12:39 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm excited about this challenge!
Bridget Ilene Delaney
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 4:32:19 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
count me in. i identify with the roller coaster image posted above. let's roll!
becky
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 4:34:06 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
So I post the poem in here, not the link to it right?
Abbey R
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 4:34:08 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Can't wait! (rubbing hands together in glee!) I've put out a challenge to two writing groups, and will send out a third challenge today. I pulled at least one other poet in this year, so we're growing. Ok, she may not post on the site, but will be writing to the prompt every day. It's a start!
AC Leming
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 4:44:29 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Wow...sounds fun!
Susan W.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 4:52:53 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Looking forward to a poem a day. Thanks.
Teresa Sundmark
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 4:58:38 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This promises to be quite a trip. woo hoo!
Lucia Galloway
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 5:11:17 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This is like a poet's Christmas Eve. I'm eager to see what gifts we'll open in the morning.
Connie
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 5:40:24 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This is the first time I'm participating in this and I can't wait to get started :-D
Michelle
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 5:50:10 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I can hardly wait to post along with my fellow poets once again. Thanks, Robert, our moderator and poetry guru!
Karen H. Phillips
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 6:00:06 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm in.
Don Swearingen
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 6:04:04 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Looking forward to the PAD, Robert. Thanks for doing this again. Jodi
mjdills
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 6:08:16 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Can't wait to get started! Thanks for organizing everything.
Kathleen Cassen Mickelson
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 6:14:32 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Thanks for all the effort you expend on us Robert.

I'm not at all a fan of responding to set prompts to create a poem, but I shall give this a go - I have been infected with the enthusiasms of you and earlier today, of Penn Kemp and my English cyber-pal Jonathan Docherty.

How appropriate to begin on April Fools' Day to ensure that, as someone remarked further up on this thread, for Poetic Asides at least, "April is the coolest month!" (neat).
Christopher James Heyworth
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 6:47:37 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I am all fired up!

Thanks for providing this envigorating challenge.
Erin Wilcox
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 6:48:23 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I've been looking forward to this since last year. April was the coolest month for me and I never thought I'd enjoy writing to a prompt so much. Great that there's a chance for poems to be published and it moves the bar a little higher. Also loved reading other's poetry. Thank you for arranging all of this and for making April my favorite month.:)
Barbara Ehrentreu
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 6:59:48 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I still haven't written the poem from your last week's prompt, but that ain't stopping me. I'm there!
Buddah Moskowitz
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 7:17:42 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
About copywrite, if any of these poems come out fairly decent, I might think of entering them in some competitions. If I happen to be one of the top 50in the ebook , will this then be considered published material? Many competitions ask that the work be unpublished elsewhere.

Simone
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 7:17:47 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I am hoping my muse has been busy in my subconscious. Last year I felt as if I were flinging words on paper rather than creating good poetry. I am encouraged by the fact even our poet laureate felt she did not post good poems every day.

I have enjoyed the last few prompts.

BTW, the closest thing I have to a home page is my Flickr page. Is that OK in case anyone is interested?
Sheryl Kay Oder
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 7:20:40 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I look forward to beginning!
Hannah Zhalih Mickunas
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 7:36:40 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I expect this to be tres cool, Robert. Thanks - I'm already in the starting blocks!
Bruce Niedt
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 7:48:31 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This is going to be great fun--looking forward to participating--thanks for doing htis yet again!
Raven
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 7:49:47 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Going to give this a try. Testing comments.

Sorry so unpoetic.
Ernest
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 7:50:17 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just practicing to make sure I can leave a post. See you tomorrow.
AnnNoE
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 7:52:42 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
How exciting. I already write poems every day on FanStory.com. I get feedback for my poems. But I will do it here too!

I recommend FanStory.com to writers.
Mary Howardson
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 7:55:07 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just testing the Poem a day blog site. I have never blogged!
MLM
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 7:55:56 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Thanks again so much, Robert! It's great to see some familiar names and some new folks. Can't wait to read tomorrow's prompt and poems!
Tonya Root
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 7:56:06 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This sounds like fun! Will be checking in and writing a.m.a.p. (as much as possible). Just testing the comments feature for now...
Tara Browne
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 7:58:12 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I just ran across this blog today. Will try back again tomorrow with a poem!
Katherine
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:00:29 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Poems. Yay.
Lydia Fleming
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:01:50 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Yippee! I'll be back.
Mary Ann B
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:02:54 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just one question: I will be completely offline from the 26th of April (playing harp at a renaissance fair, we don't even have mobile phones there!). Is there any chance to "pre-post" the poems?!? If not don't worry, I will take part of it just for the fun anyway...

Thanks for putting this together!!
Julia Nickel
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:04:57 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm looking forward to the challenge.
Carol Brennan King
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:08:49 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Hip, Hip, Hooray
I'm writing a poem a day
Perhaps not my best
but put to the test
my words and this prompting
to play
MLM
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:13:40 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Excited for the challenge!
Samantha S
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:16:17 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I will give this a try - sounds like fun!
Jenna Sievers
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:17:48 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
did I do this right? Is this where I sign up for the poem a day challenge? I think I'm ready to go. Never donw this but sounds like fun.
Natalie Lozano
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:18:13 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm looking forward to this new and exciting "event"!
Willy Kalnins
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:18:21 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I am holding my breath
As I consider a matter
of discipline and pleasure.

No pleasure without suspense;
No discipline without planning.

Do I have the will and the soul?
G.M. Smith
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:18:42 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just testing to see how this works.

A poem a day,
Keeps others at bay,
Hard to understand,
but that is what is at hand.
Brandy Rogers
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:19:31 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I have been waiting for April PAD since we finished up with the November prompts. (I did last April's too.) It amazes me how you can come up with interesting prompts every single day! Looking forward to tomorrow. Robert, thanks for doing this again!
Mary K
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:20:20 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Should be fun -- can't wait for tomorrow. Haven't exercised those poetry muscles much since college (lost in the mists of time).
Elena Brenna
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:20:57 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Now that I am recently unemployed... this will help me to stop wasting my days away in front of the telly. *wink*
redmerlona
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:25:08 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Is this thing on?
RC Walton
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:26:11 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
In like a lion
March's wearisome days
Out like a lamb
All poets sing your praise.





Maryann Younger
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:27:29 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
It's been years since I've tried writing poetry, but I'll take the challange.
Gail Stonemark
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:28:23 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm game. anything that keeps my creativity flowing can't be a bad thing! I'll see all you POETRY FOOLS tomorrow morn!
Erika Snow Robinson
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:31:18 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Oh so lazy have I been
daily sleeping in.
A poem a day just might be
the right kick in the xxxx for me.
Anna Clay
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:34:48 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Fun-fun-fun! Calling all Muses...ain't no excuses...put your thinking cap on...for tomorrow @ dawn.
Robin Waring
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:35:01 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Tomorrow will come
So I'll just twiddle my thumbs.
Find something to do, maybe kick some kung-fu.
Or maybe I'll grab a candybar and smoke a cigar,
but none-the-less tomorrow ain't far.
Invisible Voice
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:37:14 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This will be my first year participating. I look forward to it!
Juliann Wetz
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:47:46 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Have never done this before.
Hope to write poems galore!
Meter, imagery, metaphor!
Come April 1st, my spirit will soar!

Barb Nieves
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:47:54 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I think I'm going to try this out even though I'm a non-poet just to get me writing each day. Sounds fun!
freddi
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:48:29 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I am looking forward to this contest. And testing to see if this gets posted. First time doing this.
Bonnie House
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:50:05 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Also testing the post and looking forward to the challenge!
Deb
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:53:09 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Thank you so much for organizing this! I'm very excited!
Li Yun Alvarado
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 8:57:40 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just testing for the challenge that starts tomorrow!
Beth
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:07:56 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I didn't realize that there was a Poetry-a-Day event. I just discovered it this morning. I don't really consider myself a poet, but I just had two poems published in "4 and 20," and that was very encouraging. I haven't written to prompts before, so this will be interesting. I am glad we can "catch up," as I am going to be on the road for part of the month and may have trouble finding computer access.
Carol Berger
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:08:52 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Wow, this sounds like fun,,, and I can get my name as a writer out there to more people! Thanks for the opportunity! MC
Melody Calhoun
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:10:48 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I love a good challenge. This should be fun!
KRE Moore
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:11:33 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I just want to let others know that it took me something like 5 or 6 tries to get my message to post. Hopefully it won't post more than the one time that just came through.
Carol Berger
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:17:29 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
What a wonderful way to spend an April.
Kevin
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:17:45 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Wow, cool, I just came across this, sounds fun.
Stephanie Ibbeken
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:21:54 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This sounds fun. I've just sent a link to my son too.
Sheila Deeth
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:26:43 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just testing...
Lisa
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:33:58 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Thank you!
Shannon--AZ
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:39:39 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This sounds like fun. Looking forward to it.
Rena Stover
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:44:11 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
A fantastic challenge to welcome Spring! Thank goodness!

I look forward to participating!
Linda Balboni
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:49:20 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Looking forward to having another go at it this year!
Karen Masteller
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:51:49 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Wow I just came across this for the first time- very excited to join in. However . . .It is the 1st already here in New Zealand ;-) waiting waiting . . .
KJ
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:52:47 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
What is the word count average though?
Laura Ciorlieri
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 9:57:23 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Looking forward to seeing if my writing is up to the challenge. :)
Eaton Bennett
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 10:03:50 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Testing again.......
Debbie Pea
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 10:05:53 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
four years ago I decided to write a poem a day for the entire year - well, I made it through July, which I thought was pretty phenomenal, and I had lots of material to edit for the next year!
Haven't had the motivation to do a poem a day since, though - so I'm looking forward to the support!
maril
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 10:18:57 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I can't wait for this to start. Hopefully I can challenge myself and do one every day. I am looking forward to this. Yeah!
Leslie
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 10:22:45 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just testing. See you tomorrow or Thursday, depending on the April Fool's virus.
blancolin
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 10:26:29 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Robert- heard about this challenge from my mother. i am very excited to particpate this year and have an opportunity to share some fresh work with a fresh audience. thanks, dave
David Yockel Jr.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 10:29:36 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Thanks for the rules...this is my test comment.
letter2V
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 10:30:09 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Looks like fun. I'm ready!
Cara
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 10:34:08 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just practicing for tomorrow.
mamayut
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 10:43:09 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
What a coincidence! I've been writing a poem a day lately just for the heck of it. I usually don't write poems-- which will obvious to anyone reading them.
Stacy Wright
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 10:46:44 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Keep trying but can't get it to work
Phil Boiarski
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 10:48:08 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
write ready to go!
chelley mclear
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 10:50:16 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Getting ready to rumble.
Mary McCann, The Bone Mama
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 10:53:33 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Oooh, sounds like fun. I'm miserable at writing poetry, so I think this would be an excellent challenge for me.
Defying.Expectations
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 11:05:22 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
On April's Eve

Presuming in April, ice on pond thin,
Poetic prize hopes rhymer to win.

Dummies of April organize fine rhymes;
At times true poets may also rhyme fine.

-- pdp
pdp
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 11:05:46 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This sounds like fun... it's been a long time since I wrote any poetry, much less one a day. I'm going to get my daughter involved.
Amanda Kelley
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 11:06:08 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Robert,

I'm late to get to bed and early to rise, and I like early prompts. Would it be possible to post the daily prompts late the night before? I have to get on the road many days and don't get back to my computer until late, and I like having the poem either done or in the works early while my brain is in creative mode.
Earl Parsons
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 11:06:47 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
sounds like fun, I think I might give it a try.
Vicky Fonnesbeck
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 11:16:23 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
How hard can this be?
Brooke White
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 11:18:49 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Think I might do this. Sounds like fun
sandy belford
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 11:25:28 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
What a great idea... looking forward to participating.
Jane Drennen
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 11:27:02 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Looking forward to this event - thank you for all your encouragement over the past year.
jane penland hoover
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 11:30:30 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Looking forward to this event.
Yoly
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 11:37:01 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I referred this challenge to some others, and now I'm going to give it a go myself! Thank you for providing this creative opportunity.
Annis Cassells
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 11:38:42 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just happened on this site;
Will test it out tonight
And hope I've got it right.
henri e walker
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 11:51:42 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm desperately going to try
to burst poems on the fly
each and every April day
and I hope it will pay
not monetary but by paving way
with each soiree
to find a poet ally
who shall help me learn to oversupply


WOOOOHHHHH! I'm syked!
Carrie Ann Eggert
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:12:14 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
A poem a day --
Hooray,
Come what may
Let's play.
Betsey Farlow
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:16:12 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
May words for poems begin to flow
Maybe they'll come, maybe they'll go
Rhyming or not, they soon will show
And if they do, it will be so
Terilee
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:16:17 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Testing,
Testing,
I was only testing.

Does this count as a poem?
Christine Vanderberg
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:48:06 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Testing....
Linda Anderson
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:50:20 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Time to try something new! Have never posted anything myself before so just checking...
trigger
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:53:48 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
My friend just e-mailed this to me and I need the discipline so I'm ready!
Karen Decker
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:57:49 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Testing too. Should be fun.
phyllis rauch
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 1:00:00 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Wow! What a response. Can't wait until tomorrow.
N
Nancy Posey
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 1:31:48 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I am not a poet and I know it...but I'm gonna try.
Tina H
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 1:35:47 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just found out about this. Sounds like fun!
Sha
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 1:42:40 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I've never tried anything like this, but I love writing and reading poetry so this should be fun. I would be happy to put a link to your info when I use a poem on a website or blog, but I don't know how. If someone could explain that to me, I'd be grateful.

Thanks
Dr. Jeanne Hounshell
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 1:43:52 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Looking forward to tomorrow
DJ Vorreyer
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 1:51:47 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Looking forward to the April 1st start (no April fooling around about it )
Kevin Spenst
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:04:30 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I have never done anything like this before. I am writing a test to see if I actually get this posted properly!
Robin D.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:10:37 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm new to this, but I'm eager to assist. I'm already on this one.
Gwenn Brown
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:13:43 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm going to officially commit myself to participating, too!
Guy LeCharles Gonzalez
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:14:39 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I like the code that prevents robots. It sounds like toothpaste or birth control.
EmmaS
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:14:55 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This is a test, and I'm glad to meet all of the rest!
Gwenn Brown
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:19:03 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Since last year's April challenge got me writing poetry on a somewhat regular basis for the first time ever, I've had four poems accepted by literary magazines. Count me in again!
ann malaspina
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:26:29 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Windy kisses felt
Underneath moon’s veil
Silvery licks wet Earth
Cheryl Foreman
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:30:03 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Tomorrow is a new day
Full of many surprises
May the inspiration that is found
Come in all sorts of disguises.

Thank you for doing this.
Laura Johnson
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:36:27 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
super cool. thanks for holding this virtual space for creative word-weaving!
Noelle V.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:44:05 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This looks like lots of fun.

Testing one...two...three
Stephanie D.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:45:16 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Sounds like fun! See you tomorrow.
Gerry
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:47:05 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
The Missing Umbrella

There it was... the vacant shadow of
a missing reply email in the inbox
of the umbrella rack,
waiting for this rainy day,
so that I could make the deadline to revise
the much needed contact info and more
of my Poet's Market listing.
Alas, the shadow was not more
than the absence of the utility,
I could not grab it,
I could not bring it with me
into the storm.
It did, however, linger in my shadow,
haunting me with premonitions
of another incorrect listing
and floods of submissions to the wrong address.
And also, too even, alas, I had not a proper email address
or a way to find out where to find their proper email address.
Perhaps it were lost in the floods of spam,
the reply I needed,
the reassuring pat on the shoulder,
"well received,
corrections noted,
it will get done."
Or perhaps I need but try again and see
that it has a different subject title,
something more obvious,
like "Urgent! Lotto Payment info needed!"
No, seriously, this will get done.
When I don't know,
but I have faith.
And it's all about faith.
Stepping into that great unknown.




Frequently Asked Question... By Only One Individual

Does a question count
as frequently asked,
if it were merely asked by one,
many many times?
Well 'tis not many times yet,
but this is the first.
Were it but possible, then,
to publish poems submitted to the comments,
in other publishing projects elsewhere,
such as in my own Chapbook in a Month series this year,
or after posting are the limited
to publishing in the eBook connected therein,
with exclusivity after?
Donald R. Anderson
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:49:55 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Yes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just a few more hours. Goddess, I love this month, love the challenge, the discipline, the sheer luxury of spouting words. Looking forward to sharing poems with old friends and new.

Robert and all, my blog this month is dedicated to Natioanal Poetry Month. I just posted my first entry, and this site is linked. I'll be featuring all sorts of goodies - poets, books and chapbooks, presses, litzines, and the like - so drop in. http://leftbrainwrite.blogspot.com

Yippee - may the words begin! Peace, Linda
LindaSW
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:04:02 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I can't wait!

a pause in my life
a breath in my day
to put me down on paper
on screen
my mind
on display
a mess?
a blessing?
AJ
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:10:24 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Fellow poets, Express yourself wildly, joyfully, proudly, and enthusiastically -- but in my humble (perhaps contrite) opinion (and that of Edna Proctor) calling free verse a poem is like calling a pile of rocks a cathedral!
John Covell
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:30:37 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm so glad I ran across this. It sounds fun.
Laura
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:38:39 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Looking forward to taking part
In this oft forgotten art
Not for any amount of fame
Just for someone to print my name
Brian Massier
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:39:59 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Thanks Robert. This sounds like so much fun.
A challenge in which a non-poet will attempt to become poetic.
This is truly just a test.
See ya tomorrow.


Diane McD
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:42:13 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
What a great writing challenge--not a true poet but love pretend :)


A M Forret
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:43:10 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Yay!!! I'm ready, willing and able. A bit rusty, but up for the challenge.
Helen P.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:49:56 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This contest sounds fun! I'm up for it!
Ivy
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:53:44 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Revvin' up my engines! Ready, set . . .
Sally Jadlow
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:06:21 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
So many people! Great. I'm waiting for the prompts.
Salik Shah
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:07:31 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
In the words of Rumi....

"Today, like any other day, we wake up lonely and frightened..".

come in from the rain,
let your loss guide your hand,
then take out your pen and
write your life into the new day.
caroline
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:13:29 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm ready!!! Can't wait!!!
Nike
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:20:37 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I was so excited to hear about this, and did, just in the nick of time! ...and then I read thru all the wonderful comments and got even more excited! Yes thanks for putting this awesome fun blog together and sharing it with the world!
Vanessa
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:35:43 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Poem-a-Day, what a concept! I am anxious to read the many fine works from our contemporaries. Competition, support, constructive critique, and camaraderie will make better poets of us all!
Walt Wojtanik
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:59:21 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Poem a day
What can I say
I'll give it a try everyday
Diana Mwamunga
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:59:22 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I am excited about this April poetry opportunity.
Doloris
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 5:10:54 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Another first step for me in the string of "it's time."
Leslie Levy
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 5:12:46 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm going to try at least once. Thanks for organizing this great opportunity!
J. M. Herr
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 5:13:35 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm not a poet but it sounds fun so why not try?
Stephanie
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 5:23:27 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm a newby at this; however, I love to write so I'm excited to be in the company of such creative minds.
Tara
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 5:27:23 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Jambo!

Have never blogged,
Yet am never dogged,
So I guess that means
I have yet to live another dream!

Yahoooooo!
Jacquelin Tomaschko
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 5:29:47 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
YES! I am a procrastinator, so this will be a challenge.
Janne
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 5:53:23 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Daddy's going to come and play
And write a prompted poem a day.
Very disciplined is he,
In contrast to his daughter, me.
Can a poet in good conscience
Accept such unruly nonsense
As that inspired by prompt alone
With little thought to meter, tone?
Is it possible that free-form verse,
Might actually a poem disburse
Or must a poem be defined,
Only by stanza an rhythm of line.
Epic, sonnet, palindrome,
Measured as by metronome
Haiku, and even limericks meet
The requirements of poetic feat.
This question to the judges pose:
Is free verse poetry or prose?
Carrie Covell
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 5:58:20 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
What time will you be starting in the morning?
Lisa aka "Thumper"
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 6:12:16 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
As pre-game practice, here is the song of Johnny Dooit, a character in the Book by L. Frank Baum, The Road to OZ:

The only way to do a thing
Is do it when you can,
And do it cheerfully, and sing
And work and think and plan.

The only real unhappy one
Is he who dares to shirk;
The only really happy one
Is he who cares to work.
Ron Pavellas
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 6:16:36 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
April Poem-A-Day Challenge

Poetry is love
It makes my heart sing with joy
Or cry out in pain
Kathy Elbert
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 7:03:44 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Testing testing
I think i have
A poem nesting;
In my brain nesting.

Carole
Carole Egler
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 7:17:45 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Thanks to WOW! Women on Writing for posting this link.
Padgett Posey
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 7:20:57 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
testing
Lisa Olson
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 7:25:39 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Thanks! Can't wait!
Glenda
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 7:42:10 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I am so glad to be subscribing to your newsletter and got to know about this PAD Challenge.
Nadura Kamarulzaman
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 9:12:21 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
There is a little place where ideas bloom wildly,
That is where the plans lie in wait.
However, there are other things blooming wildly there too,
also waiting.......
Proberbly proportionate, proportionally.
Alexis Akesson
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:03:57 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I very much look forward to participating.

Sabine
Sabine Metzger-Groom
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:05:21 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just setting up password
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:22:48 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Robert! Wake up and post-- it's almost 5:30 in the mornin! (on the East Coast, I'm West so hey, lol)
Lisa aka "Thumper"
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:58:14 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
testing :)
Leah
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 11:16:53 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
1 April 2009

Jokes are only cruel
when one laughs
at a person.

So today,
we don’t laugh at you
or her or him.
We laugh at us.

The time we tripped
on the street corner,
thinking there was a curb
to step down.

The time we said
something romantic on the phone
to the wrong person.

The time we realized
we’d been walking our whole lives
with “kick me” taped
to our backs.

The day we realized
with sunset’s certainty
that we would die.

Joseph Ross
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 11:59:31 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
RE: EARLY PROMPTS

Regarding Earl Parson's post:

"I'm late to get to bed and early to rise, and I like early prompts. Would it be possible to post the daily prompts late the night before? I have to get on the road many days and don't get back to my computer until late, and I like having the poem either done or in the works early while my brain is in creative mode."

I'm in the UK, so for those of us in other time zones, posting the prompts late the night before would really be a plus for us. If it's a bother...no problem...I really appreciate all your effort, Robert. Thank you so much. You are a star!

Alison
Alison Linnitt
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:09:17 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
testing....and getting ready to rumble.
Marie-Elizabeth Mali
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:11:30 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm new to this and am looking forward to it, a reason to get up each morning.
Jeanne Klaver
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:18:39 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Hi. Here it is, the morning of April 1st. I want to write a poem NOW, before I have to leave for work...But where is the prompt???
Anne Corey
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:26:38 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This should be interesting....
Deborah Cunningham
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:32:54 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
It takes a strong man and a strong stomach to put forth this challenge.
Tara Sullivan
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:49:40 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Cool!!
Olga P.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:53:46 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
All rightie then... this should be fun or at least great exercise for my brain. :)
Faye T. Tanaka
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 1:06:14 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Oh, and thanks, Robert, for changing the deadline - I am driving everybody insane around me how to get this task done. I now have this setup: a friend will send me a text message every day with the daily prompt and on the 30th of April I will drive to an internet cafe around 6 miles away from the medieval fair where I can send the last poems from. A picture of me in medieval clothes in that internet cafe will appear on my blog, promised... ;-)
Julia
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:16:16 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I'm ready!
Pam Calabrese MacLean
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:32:19 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Hi. I'm just trying this for the first time, to see if I'm doing it correctly. Looking forward to the participating in a month of poetry, I think.
Tom
Tom F
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:36:29 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Discarded gem, I wonder what could have happened to make you so rough and worn.

Each time I take you up, I smooth and polish; smooth and polish.

I know that in time, the precious jewel that you are will shine through.
Jacquelyn E. Scott
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:49:33 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I seem to get my copy of FeedBlitz kind of late. I think it comes late at night or something. For instance I didn't get these rules until this morning, and I haven't received the April 1st mailing yet. Is there something I can do about this?
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 2:58:34 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I KNOW IT’S TRUE

I FOUND MY LOVE WHO I KNOW IS TRUE
IT’S IN HIS EYE, I SEE IT TOO
HIS TOUCH IS WARM, HIS LAUGH IS NEW
HE MAKES ME FEEL WONDERFUL, HE ALWAYS DO.

HE SPEAKS THE TRUTH, THAT I MUST SAY
NEVER HURTING MY FEELINGS, NOT IN ANYWAY
HE HOLDS MY HAND, I FEEL HIS STRENGTH
MY HEART GREW FONDER, UNDER HIS WEIGHT.

I LOVE THE WAY HE MAKES ME SMILE
I FEEL VERY OPEN, LIKE A BRAND NEW CHILD
AS I SIT HERE AND WONDER ABOUT OUR FAITH
I PRAY TO GOD, FOR HIM, I WILL WAIT.

IF WE SHOULD MARRY, WHO KNOWS SOMEDAY
I PROMISE MY HEART, UNTIL YOU I WILL STAY
I MAKE THIS VOW ON THIS SPEACIAL DAY
I GIVE YOU MY HEART, MY LOVE, IN ALL PASSIONATE WAYS.

Pamela G. Pegram
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:14:50 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Testing ... testing ...

I must be nuts to think I have time to write a PAD ... but here goes!
Wynne Brown
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:26:55 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Tuesday Morning Rumble in MY Tummy

Sounds of rumbles from my belly
I sense it's time to fix me something to eat
will it be my string beans coated with acorns?
sounds cruel to one who actually like string beans
the crunch adds a bite, and a Wow!

Will I prepare my famous chicken
salad from the grass out front?
sounds alittle too earthy I know,
even to one who is a vegetarian?
But see I am a perfectionist
this can be done and
today is the GREEN movement,
so fix a plate of green,
I swear I am a supporter!

Na, I know I will have my eggs and bacon
smothered in cheddar cheese
May even have a pancake or two,
alittle more lard on the side please
can't ya hear my blood thickening as I type,
southern food fixed the ole timey way,
I'm a favorite of soul food
prepared in run down diners with leaky faucets
but the apple pie is to die for!

Turning on the stove to high, bring on the lard!
next step, oh yeah, go grab the green grass
won't it bring my eggs and lard
to a healthy shade of green?
so I can wear my GO GREEN! button
to my Save the World meeting Thursday night.
Stephanie Ibbeken
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:39:33 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
PASSION

It burns deep from within
I cry out but no one hears me
I feel the need to tell someone
Someone who cares
Someone who will listen
I feel the passion for comfort
I feel the passion for love
I have so much to give, yet little do I gain
My passion for living is beyond control
It comes from deep within my soul
The burning rage
I cannot explain
It causes me to drain
I take pride within my soul
Because of the passion I have, for this cold, cold world
Karen Walker
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:46:45 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
The Weeping Widow


Rooted in mind's valley of origins,
The tree of annual apocalypse;
Of drooping lids
Vaulted from urns
And alive with martyrdom…

Branched out, bleeding green dimensions,
Raking the lowers regions;
A vegetation of music
And subtle aromas
Of love.

Everything beautiful
makes her weep.

Blushed with sadness. Mud erupts inward
From a warrior’s trunk,
Swollen by a processes
of vanquished soils
And a wind of songs…

From birth’s inhale to death’s blue note:
A scattering of vehemence
and symphonic change
Floods a mangrove
Of the earth’s unseen ear…

More than liturgy leafs the jungle
Of one mind.
The human drum in triple time,
A hypnotist’s ladder
Rung, rung, rung by stones,
Dream, and lungs…

Everything beautiful
Makes her weep.

The aggression of red,
Intensity white
Debilitation of indigo,
Violet, passive black.
Green is a bridge.
The willow’s arm of time
spans one mind.

Everything beautiful
makes her weep.

Nettings of shiny Indra:
The feast of luminosity
The aviary of screeching
Pearls of light...

Angas of fans,
Avesta of flutes,
Dhammapada of castanets,
Genesis of the Lotus flower,
Hagiographa of the bamboo tubes,
Qur’an of hollow gourds,
Mahabharata of swords,
Proverb of the peonies,
Ramayana of narcissistic plums,
Revelation of blossoms
Of rubric
Of miracles…

Everything beautiful
Makes her weep.

Everything (love) shatters
The mirror
Of ego
by hysterical glancing;
The sky is prisoner
Of her chamber's music,
Her shadowy instrumentation
Of mourning.
A walk through the grove
of intellect
Waxing and waning
finds sobs
And gales emoting…

It's the rain's ritual
Of iambic mediation:
Strings on wood and wind
And wonderment.

Everything beautiful
makes her weep.
Henry Avignon
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:01:53 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Flight (April 1, 2009)

Daddy wakes me, gently touching my shoulder
Night is thick, black velvet
His voice quietly urges me
Throwing back my covers, I emerge from my cocoon
Feet touch the cold, smooth floor
I slide off my warm, woolen pajamas
Cold creeps up my bare legs
Goosebumps as I stuff my legs into stiff jeans
Pull a sweater over my tangled hair
Step into the inky, dark night
The soft purr of the motor
Icy seat, my breath smokeless, foggy puffs
Green illumination on my face
My head presses back into the seat
Daddy eases the car into the empty, dead street
Neither of us has spoken, but I know
Lines on his forehead, tightness around his mouth
How many more flights in the night

Janne
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:11:33 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
BORN ANGRY

It’s wrapped so tight within him
This little piece of rage.
He’s tried to push it back, push it back
Into the little cage.
But it is growing
Growing stronger, BIGGER
Fed by things he cannot control
Cannot go back and fix
Fed by Mother’s neglectful absence
A lie of fatherhood, told before his birth
Fed by echoes of evil words
Designed to beat down dreams
Designed to tear down worth.
The meds, the endless string
Of oblivious counselors and psych docs,
Haven’t touched the pain.
The little cage is wearing thin.
He’s punched a window today.
The school warns
Next time it is court
But the caged thing within him
Was born when time began
And cares nothing for court.
Debby Stacy
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:19:46 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
MOODS: For Starlight

The Ruler of the dark illuminates a golden streak on the ocean surface,
Using its glowing reflected light as it sketches a path to shore.
The shoreline whispers with the gentle pounding of the waters’ ebb and flow.
The wet gray sand glistens like a Dolphin as it breaks the surface.

Sunrise awakes the sea with a sharp white light turning the water dark royal blue.
White waves meet the shore with a pounding and silver spray of force.
The high tide drowns the indifferent sand, engulfing the debris dumped on the shore.
To its’ bosom it suckles and draws the good with the bad left by nature and man.

Feathered sea foragers swoop into the foamy brine to feed, emerging with wiggling prey.
Others float just beyond the waves, disappearing below, like a shooting gallery target.
Beneath the surface another turmoil of the food chain, like a ballet of ecology.
While larger eats the smaller, waves pound rhythmically, inching forward.

The sun in its’ high place, the sea retires, withdrawing and engulfing its bounty with it.
Exposed are the treasures it gave, as if in payment for its’ trespass.
The Sandpiper scoots along the wet moist sand, scooping the food as if left for only him.
The clam pokes his sightless head to eat his fill, next to a half-buried plastic cup.

Dark clouds, unseen by those on shore, arouse an indifferent mood by the sea.
The anger builds as the thermal updraft gathers the clouds to a crack of thunder.
The sea turns deep green, caps of white appear, mist dances on spray as the anger swells.
Ashore the pounding surf and the rumble above play a symphony.

There is no power as great as I, King Neptune, ruler of the ocean I am. Watch my power!
It roars, as the towering waves toss driftwood like toothpicks to the shore.
Sand, pebbles, and rock disappear in the foamy brine: only to appear again.
Rolling in the wet sand and seaweed, glistening in the receding surf.

Suddenly, as the sea had raged, it calmed.
The darkness cleared to unveil a setting sun.
Amber streaks in a dark sea reflected like thousands of lightning bugs.
Waves settled to a quite rhythm. The Sandpiper danced near the waves.

Soon the sea will blacken with the reflection of the other Sun upon the surface.
All is calm except the dancing starlight flashing like diamonds in the blackness above.
The gulls tuck their fragile legs under their bodies and wait, never sleeping.
The mood of the sea runs deep beneath, ever churning and always uneasy.


Brian A. Hartford
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:26:29 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Testing
and still testing
and done.

Can't believe I remembered you were doing this. Thanks.
Marcia Mclees Bogaert
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:52:04 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
the origin of Origins

Estee Lauder, goddess, queen of the makeover
went to the Soviet Union after the wall came down
the Soviets said please not Clinique, not your
signature goopy moisturizer. it is too rich
for our pure Russian skins
after Chernobl we need green cosmetics
green like Siberia is -- well it never is green --
but you get the idea. we want lovely masks
to help us forget our winters, and lovely lipsticks
so we can remember love
love that became such an elusive commodity in our culture -- don't misunderstand us -- we are proud to be russian
but
we had art but not umbrellas
poetry but no toilet paper
so now give us a rainbow
and the queen of the makeover complied
and the sun rose over st petersburg
on the faces of the soviets
who bloomed now like flowers
under a capitalist sun
stephanie hammer
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:52:04 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
i have no idea what i am doing here...a poem of origin.
dana stone
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 5:06:58 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
In the beginning there was darkness, they say.
Then He-with-a-capital-H said let there be light.
In six days he made the continents,
The seas,
The plants,
The animals.
On the sixth day—I think—he created man.
Adam. And from Man he created Woman.
Eve.
Or was it Lilith? I forget.
And on the seventh day he rested.

In the beginning there was Nothing, they say.
And then there was the Big Bang.
And out of Nothing came Something.
And in time, Something became the earth:
The continents, the seas.
In the next few million—billion?—years
There were amoebas and paramecia and creatures of the sea,
There were crawling amphibious things, and then creatures of the land,
And then dinosaurs.
And then there was—what? A meteor? A volcano? I forget.
And then somehow there were crawly things and flying things and eventually monkeys
Apes
People.

In the beginning there were many gods, they say.
And they got bored watching the grass grow,
so they made animals.
And they got bored watching the animals act in predictable, logical ways.
so they made people
Out of clay? I forget.
And baked them in an oven
Or something.
And they were the first reality show:
crazy,
illogical,
beautiful,
ugly,
weak,
virtuous,
despicable…
Survivor, anyone?

In the beginning, there were no historians,
No video cameras,
No writers.
Cybele Kilby
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 5:37:40 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
This is a first for me...to be challenged w/a PAD, but I'm up for the challenge! I've also sent it on to my writer's group and other writer friends.
Terri Lasher
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 6:05:02 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
two perfect crystal glasses

driving through the bushveld
on our way from somewhere
going nowhere in particular
the road, long, black
shimmering with mirages
there it stood, a farm stall
more of a lean to really
built of cracking planks, grey with age
and a rusty corrugated iron roof
the sign was large and clear
"ice cold homemade ginger beer"
the car tyres abandoned the smoothness
deserting the tarmac for the bump and slide
of the stony, dusty roadside
as he hit the brakes
the sound of sliding gravel
the motor died
the country silence engulfed us
i open the car door and swing my legs out
my new white sneakers land with a plop
on the thick dust and gravel
i glance down at my shoes
now coated with a fine red film
the angry heat sears my throat
the air is as dry as a dowager's skin
we lope over to the semi shade
where the rusty iron roof juts out a little
behind the makeshift counter is a smiling face
and a tin bath, full of ice, somewhat melted
swimming in the almost frozen water
old two litre cola and lemonade bottles
long emptied of their original contents
filled now with that nectar of the gods
"ice cold homemade ginger beer"
happily, we bartered money for liquid sustenance
the work worn hands which accompanied the smiling face
lifted a full bottle from the bath
it rested on the stained and dusty counter
melted ice and the dew of evaporation
sliding down the bottle
gathering in a wet ring
where wood and plastic meet
the smiling face turned and from beneath the counter
produced, two perfect crystal glasses

All materials Copyright © 2009 by Eryll Oellermann
Eryll Oellermann
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 6:28:35 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Rain

Rain skated to a full halt
knocking
leaves off their feet
Robby Lynne Strozier
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 6:47:16 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I am looking forward to this! graat idea!
Lynne P. Alexander Hollingsworth
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 6:48:04 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Thank you for doing this, Robert. It's giving me a chance to come out of the closet as a poet :) and I think reading other peoples' poetry (if the above is any indication) will be even more fun than writing my own. If such a thing is possible that is.
ina Roy-Faderman
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 7:03:00 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
CHAIN MAIL

Doesn’t matter where it starts,
I don’t do chain letters.
Didn’t do them when they came in the mail.
Don’t do them now when they zing in from cyberspace,
A desperate plea for me
To prove that I (a great and well-loved friend)
Have 10 names
In my address book.

Don’t do them for 47 ways to disguise macaroni
Or direct contact with my guardian angel
Or to save the troops.

Don’t do it when they threaten me.
Or promise me long life without misfortune.
Not for money, better sex. A car.

But it’s Friday
And all I have to do
Is add my name to the bottom of the list,
Ship you, my husband, to the name on the top.
A week Tuesday, they’ll begin to arrive.
Hundreds of husbands. Surely one a better match.

I see them milling about in the yard,
Suitcases, duffel bags, knapsacks
And trunks mounded by the front porch.

What if I kept them all? Used a morgue-like filing system,
Each drawer clearly labeled:
Plumber, carpenter, stud, sensitive.

Imagine having the whole day to decide the night’s menu.

The dryer beeps
and I think of laundry,
And all those mismatched socks.

Sigh. Shift. Delete.
Pam Calabrese MacLean
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 7:29:09 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
April showers bring May flowers
When will spring begin?
Church bells ring
children sing
yet still the snow blows in.
Snow drops covered by new snow
and all the trees are bare.
Winter weather please,please go.
Let blossoms fill the air!
Once Spring comes too quickly goes
Summer blooms the climbing rose.
Green grass dries into yellow straw
far better than gray-white of yore.
Fall's red leaves crunch 'neath my feet
and crisp red apples taste so sweet
Winter returns ans our world spins
the seasons of our origins.
Sheila
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 7:55:50 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Starburst

Particles of gas explode into outer space,
Forming clusters of stars like fireworks,
Five-sided in a glimmering shine,
To be seen on a clear night up above.

They sparkle like diamonds in the night,
Twinkling and winkling to the Gods in Heaven,
Thousands are brighter in a yellow-white sheen,
Constellations scatter the evening like ashes.

Make a wish on it for it to come true with a telescope,
As some shoots across like comets in a galaxy,
Faster than a ray of light for this starburst in action,
Bypassing the moon, clouds, dipping sun and earth.
Kristen Howe
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 8:34:31 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
April Fools Fun –
A Limericked Roll on a Day’s Parole

The first of April, time for tools –
Let’s play some pranks and break some rules.
Inpunity may reign today
Tomorrow, we’ll have dues to pay.
For just one day, the jester rules.

Linda Ann Nickerson
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 8:43:54 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
...and lead us into temptation...
Juanita Snyder
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 9:17:17 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I want my eggs

I want my eggs soft
and in between destinies
the yolk undecided
the white a nimbus
of coagulated light
haloing its small yellow
sun as I have lived
trained to the perimeter
of what is most alive in me,
accomplice to
and bearer of
its diminishing light.
Sage Cohen
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 9:19:18 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I am just trying out how to save a comment to Comments before entering a poem. Thank you.

Norma Iris Montalvo
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 9:48:35 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
again trying out comments.
Norma Iris Montalvo
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:16:23 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
trying to save this
Yvonne Wills
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:24:12 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Origins

Everything
begins
with something

A seed
a thought
a Big Bang
to start a Universe

Everything
runs its course

And holds within
the Beginning
of the End

Joy Harold Helsing
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:28:36 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Loosy-Goosy

Loosy Goosy- origin: In 1801, a man named Billy Dilly from GottaWanna, Betchomamma was tired of writing and speaking in sophisticated prose. One day when no one was looking he slipped a few more words into the dictionary to satisfy his need for variety. And besides, he loved to hear his own name being sung in the schoolyard as a boy:
“Billy Dilly is so silly, when he’s cold he is so chilly, but when he’s not, he’s really hot!”
His first word ‘Loosy-Goosy’ was born when he accidentally pinched his girlfriend Lucy in the derriere and she honked like a goose. Soon other fun combinations started to tumble from his tongue and fell ‘topsy- turvy’ onto the paper. ‘Teeny- Weeny’ found its place in Billy’s Accidental Dictionary when his wiener dog reached its teenage years. ‘Dilly- Dally’ became a prize winner when his pregnant wife Lucy proclaimed her insatiable desire for dill pickles one night and Billy was gone for hours on his midnight run to the store. While his mother –in-law, Bitty, diligently spent hours knitting booties for the baby he couldn’t help scribbling down “nitty- gritty” because of her annoying habit of grinding her teeth when she was nervous. The baby arrived ‘willy-nilly’ only 3 weeks past his due date. Little Willy Dilly couldn’t be cuter! When he started to walk he fell head over heels all the time into their beautiful garden of daisies- Oopsy Daisy! As he grew, little Willy Dilly became a fine ‘mamsy- pansy’ horticulturist in his early twenties. But with a growing desire for the open rail, he soon became a conductor on the railroad because he loved the “toot - toot” of the train whistle. He became one helluva rooten- tooten tooter on the 2:10 to Rooten, Illinois. Those who lived in Rooten were affectionately known as ‘Rooty’s’ but occasionally were taunted by nearby ‘Snooty’s’ (from Snooten, Illinois) who called them Tooty Fruity Rooty’s. But, we won’t go there. Sadly, one day in 1895 Billy Dilly committed hari-kari, so he was never to add that fun word or the very appropriate, ‘silly- billy’ to Billy’s- not- so- frilly Dictionary. Details of the other thousands of words that were added before his death are sketchy and loosy-goosy at best.
Julie Hairston

Julie Hairston
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:48:36 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
“Headache”

Sometime through the night the cat
jumps off a table or a kitchen countertop
downstairs and lands with a solid thud
(He’s a big guy and much too fat)
enough of a noise to wake me up
only marginally alarmed. I listen then
and hear his comments to some creature
on the other side of the glass, a growl
or a seductive message too subtle for me
at that hour and I drift off until the light
from outside peels away night’s blanket
and the clock tells me I have enough time
to get downstairs, feed the cat who growls
in language I have heard before: he’s hungry
and prepare breakfast for sleepy Sandra
and myself before heading for an oil change
up the muddy lane and ten miles up the road.
We eat our all bran and drink our tea, talk
about how March has ended and April
fool’s who will pester us with jokes
and threats of jokes and just plain threats
and I drive to Albion to the garage and
do cryptoquotes and crossword puzzles
and listen to the others waiting for cars
talk about the weather and the economy
and bailouts and greedy thieves in banks
and automobile manufacturing and taxes
the people with nothing much to gain who
will hand over all of their earnings to the rich
who will find new ways to fill their pockets
and throw away all the rest of it before
it gets wasted on health care or education.
I pay the bill and drive quickly home
my mind tied up in knots and barbed wire
we take a long walk in afternoon sunshine
afterwards stop to buy a small Greek pizza
before we drive home and reheat macaroni
and cheese we eat together hoping to make
my blistering, hard-earned headache
fade enough so I can practice my solo
for choir practice this evening at the church
and Sandra smiles and kisses me until the sun
comes out inside my icecream headache mind
and all those who-gives-a-damn shadows melt
the way I almost always do when she holds me.
J. Hugh MacDonald
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:53:51 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
The Troubadour

The wandering minstrel told his tale in song
Leaving not just stories but music behind him.
If he had tried that without rhyme and rhythm,
His work would not have lasted long.

He didn’t wonder about the reason for his verse;
He knew it was to give his listeners ways
To keep their stories alive forever and always
By carrying their loves alive beyond the hearse.

And speaking of remembering days of our lives,
You can have the rambling, broken lines of prose
That masquerade as songs free-versers suppose.
I’ll take the meaningful ballads of Burl Ives.
John Covell
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 11:09:55 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
New Life

A moment of intense passion
with no thought of
consequences
Just the burning
desire
for relief
and then
calm, contentment
until . . .
how long has it been?
were we careful?
no.
too late
now
I have new life
stirring within
growing
showing
kicking for release.
and then
another passion this time
of agony
how could this be
even more intense
than that other time
is it
because this time
it is not just a seed,
planted carelessly,
without thought
it is the
full bloom of a
life
beginning . . .
W. Yvonne O'Neill
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 11:14:53 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Eve's Apple

I shouldn't have bitten,
Sunk my teeth in so deep,
to the pure taste of pleasure,
but it tasted so sweet;
erotic,
exotic,
made me tingle with shame
it was then, only then
when i tasted first pain.
Janey Millea Clarke
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 11:27:34 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Out in the Open Spaces

My soft quiet eyelids
dropping like words unspoken
rolling downward
childlike

I am unable to tell you
how the answer
that I did not want
to hear
came to me today

blinking back
tears that only
adults can hide
disappointment

only I can feel
only you can see
and kisses soft
dropping like words unspoken

open up my eyes

Patricia A. Hawkenson
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 11:54:03 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Maybe the third time is the charm. If it doesn't work this time, the #### with it.

"The Origin of Species"

The one thought found itself
and scuttled through the murky deep
encased in its rudimentary form
on tendrils that passed for limbs
to sun itself
on the shore of the eternal mindscape...

It began to grow
and became encased in its new exoskeleton
of preconception and dead stringencies...

It went lumbering forward and soon
stood up on two legs
with one Cyclopian eye
that saw all and yet saw nothing...

In its need
it soon glommed with others of its kind
and they stood together
on a plain in darkness
clothed only in naked uncertainty
singing a strange guttrual psalm
in praise a star
that had burned out eons ago
Bill Bowling
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 11:55:56 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Origin

Brooding silence,
Waters weep.
Musty dampness,
Silence deep.

Turning hand
Toward the east,
Fingers played
The silence ceased.

Shimmered slight,
Silver, gold,
Slicing darkness,
Warming cold.

Blasting trumpets
Up and shooting,
Jagged land,
Green and rooting.

Smiling then
on breezy land,
Sweet and fleshy,
so came man.
Vicki Dinnel
Wednesday, April 01, 2009 11:57:52 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
ORIGIN POEM:

No more stress

If you're in a tizzy,
If you're in a fuss,
My sister has a special word,
To help the both of us.

"Chillax," she says so simply.
"Chillax," she says with glee.
Don't let the little details,
Get in the way, you see.

"Come and you can chill with me,
relax a little, too.
Don't let those little details,
Get the best of you!"

Take the words 'relax' and 'chill.'
Squish them both together.
Poof! You've got a funny word
To help you feel much better.

So, chillax when you are happy.
Chillax when you are sad.
Don't forget your magic word.
Chillax! You will be glad.



Cheryl B. Lemine
Thursday, April 02, 2009 12:06:28 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Origin Poem

How did it begin?

A few angry words,
A slamming of the door
tearful arguments
and reconciliations

A gradual pulling away
emotionally, then physically too.

A coldness of the heart
begins slowly, a reverse
melting of an iceberg.
Rosalie Nelson
Thursday, April 02, 2009 12:12:16 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Bhagan (First)

Lord of the meetings rivers, kill me. Lord, hair matted from love, still me. Nataraja, white as jasmine, fill me.

Let eight hundred forty thousand deaths take me, as you, Bhadra-Bhima, won't forsake me.

Laugh, brother Blue Throat, for the poison we will drink. Brotherloverhusbandson, no more will I think.

Lord Shakra-Asura, take the tribute of my tears. Now, Indra Deva, take the tribute of my years.

Larissa Shmailo
Thursday, April 02, 2009 12:31:40 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Pearl Girl Plucks at Fish

The girl, a translucent pearl
Plucks a fish and guts it.
Wipes the shimmering scales from her hands
On the candy striped apron.
The smell of the water
Gags her before it gurgles
through the sluice beyond.
Jimmy shouts, “You’re slacking!
We’ll never get these to Billingsgate
in a month of Sundays!”

She smiles, someday she go to Maui
Use a snorkel to watch live fish
Swim beneath her white body.
The air will be scented with coconut oil.
A stranger slags her breast-stroke.
She rolls and dives, tasting the salt water,
Comes up for air.
“Hawaiian Wedding Song”
tinnily floats from the Tannoy.
The scorching summer sun seduces her skin
like dry ice, an eloquent torture.
She draws the waves over her
- a 10 tog duvet.

Big Badger watches from the beach.
Later he will swagger home and laugh-
knowing she is out of her depth.
He could have led her over lava rocks
And pools suffocated by seaweed.
Now she is lost,

‘Sa terre n’arrête pas de tourner’
Even when they shout « Tea-break !”
And everyone downs knives
The blood doesn’t stop
pouring through the sluice.

1/4/09

Madeline McCully
Thursday, April 02, 2009 12:49:20 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
My Grandmother

Devout Catholic
Strong Royalist
Born within the sound of Bow Bells
Tireless traveler
Slightly superstitious
Tough little lady with stories to tell
Grand -child listened
Grand-child learned
Of old England & far away countries
Failing Marriage
Failing Health
She didn’t live to see her great grand-children
Her standards set live on.

Gaye Hemsley
Thursday, April 02, 2009 1:09:06 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
ORIGIN
the origin of tears
on the chopping block
of the cutting board
the poor onion
that she pushes through
clenching the handle
shoving the blade down
it's her lost job
the bills bleeding red
the tomato is next
mockingly acidic
she slices through it
then spears a pepper
exacting vegetable revenge.
Leslie Uehara
Thursday, April 02, 2009 1:15:26 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
ORIGIN
the origin of tears
on the chopping block
of the cutting board
the poor onion
she pushes through
clenching the handle
shoving the blade down
it’s her lost job
the bills bleeding red
the tomato is next
mockingly acidic
she slices through it
then spears a pepper
exacts vegetable revenge.
Leslie Uehara
Thursday, April 02, 2009 1:49:50 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
practicing posting before i put something up for the first prompt...
Sammy Greenspan
Thursday, April 02, 2009 1:54:27 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I knew it was too good to be true. I don't understand what to do or where to find the so-called prompt. Just going to try my best...

"April 1"

the challenge mobilized a few.
fires smoked, tomtoms too.
coconut telegraph tack-tickling,
phone lines frenzied, keys crack-crickling.
word spread of a poem-a-day
for fools and dreamers who want to play.
once-lonely scribes in virtual fraternity
birth first tries in muse-fed maternity.
we send out our children to make us proud,
glad that there's somewhere they're finally allowed
and hope that they'll bring back a bon mot or ten
to cling to in May when alone again.

Maria D. Laso
Thursday, April 02, 2009 2:18:16 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
When We Began

it wasn’t the beginning,
the wine,
clumsy conversation,
fumble of unfamiliar limbs,
the sun set,
or rise.

Past stiletto
and leather jacket poses,
drunken gazes,
breathless tangles,
and dead cell phone batteries.

It was an insignificant tick
at a quarter after five,
on Wednesday, or a day like it,
with potatoes,
pork chops,
and thumb wresting.
Gina Moody
Thursday, April 02, 2009 2:26:31 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Part I: Ode to Spring (April 1st)

Sprawled by the lake in my brand new lawn chair,
Fragrant eruptions of joy fill the air,
As if plopped front row at some world premiere,
Speechless and dumbfounded I can’t but stare…..
Patrick Thomas
Thursday, April 02, 2009 2:58:51 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Home on Saturday
Mom and Molly can not wait
Daddy, we missed you!
Janet Chen
Thursday, April 02, 2009 3:02:21 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
into the dry arid earth
the flower-draped casket sinks

like a soundless music box stripped of the ability to
chime and chirp.

the sun is hot above the clouds and shines fervently;
the mourners are wearing glistening masks of sweat.
A chubby child approaches the solemn-looking priest
and asks what time is the post-funeral feast.

The origin of life and the origin of death are entwined
in the same hungered breath.


Moses Cortez
Thursday, April 02, 2009 3:23:41 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
LIFE

A beginning,
Without sinning,
What price life?
Or the dice of lady luck,
A handful plucked,
The branches of trees,
And family branches,
Signified the root of life.

Spreading outwards,
The human chain,
Hands and feet, and torsos plain,
Eyes asunder, hunters we became,
Spears of life,
And slivers of pain,
A simple brain knew no fear,
But eyes betrayed a tear of fear.

As man sought woman,
Woman sought man,
A union bound without rebound,
And tied in ribbon with silk and sound,
Little wonder that we became,
A killer race of pounding flesh,
With pace and zest and total sound.
Liam Mullen
Thursday, April 02, 2009 4:03:42 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Origin

When I think of the word origin
Many thoughts come flowing to mind
Back to the days of creation
Of earth and of course mankind.

There are many I could write on
I guess that I will chose
The origin of a new day
Each brings it's own plans and views.

From first light to it's closing
New challenges greet women and men
Good and bad events happen
But all works out in the end.

There's really no closing my story
For each day ends in a new
So the first and last thoughts of origin
Really comes right back to view.
Raymond Alberts
Thursday, April 02, 2009 4:05:13 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Your aromatic future history is written,
though kept sealed in the akashic records,
still remaining a faint taunting whiff
of a mystery subconscious to me
now.
I don't know if you will manifest, or on what day,
or what then or how.
Coming through me or gifted to me or both,
origins made of me, from above me or the seas
of mud and sex, of light and dark,
of cumulonimbus, sunshine and rain,
of lotus flowers and pink peonies
and earth and fire and flesh and angel's wings
and every time the way off wild wind sings
I wonder if it's your rebel yell whispered song
brushing my skin
from a yellow spiraled future I imagine
but can't fully fathom or yet begin
because you have not yet originated into form
or ripe fruit or even sprouted seed.
or indeed, perhaps you have in anther dimension
in a creation of symbiosis,
yet still altered by bilocation and separation
and I'm always asking the question of your conception
when will a unity create thee into me
or another she and when might you arrive?
I dive into the depth of my minds eye
as I think that i can smell you in a bouquet of baby's breath
between the fragrant lilies on my nightstand
and blue cornflower fields in the twilight night light
in the palms of my hands.
I wonder what it will feel like the first time you wrap
all your perfect tiny fingers around one of mine,
Just visioning, I know you are all ready to be
the goddesses greatest flawless design.
But when my sweet darling, will you be my manifestation,
my adorations of you are you as natures birth of the divine.
Diana Delaney
Thursday, April 02, 2009 4:07:23 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Hidden in the shadows
of my basement
lies a leaf

found by a man
I once knew
and loved

handed to me
as he said
to hold dear

so I did
and now it is
held by glass.
Shannon Cameron
Thursday, April 02, 2009 4:11:53 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Your aromatic future history is written,
though kept sealed in the akashic records,
still remaining a faint taunting whiff
of a mystery subconscious to me
now.
I don't know if you will manifest, or on what day,
or what then or how.
Coming through me or gifted to me or both,
origins made of me, from above me or the seas
of mud and sex, of light and dark,
of cumulonimbus, sunshine and rain,
of lotus flowers and pink peonies
and earth and fire and flesh and angel's wings
and every time the way off wild wind sings
I wonder if it's your rebel yell whispered song
brushing my skin
from a yellow spiraled future I imagine
but can't fully fathom or yet begin
because you have not yet originated into form
or ripe fruit or even sprouted seed.
or indeed, perhaps you have in anther dimension
in a creation of symbiosis,
yet still altered by bilocation and separation
and I'm always asking the question of your conception
when will a unity create thee into me
or another she and when might you arrive?
I dive into the depth of my minds eye
as I think that i can smell you in a bouquet of baby's breath
between the fragrant lilies on my nightstand
and blue cornflower fields in the twilight night light
in the palms of my hands.
I wonder what it will feel like the first time you wrap
all your perfect tiny fingers around one of mine,
Just visioning, I know you are all ready to be
the goddesses greatest flawless design.
But when my sweet darling, will you be my manifestation,
my adorations of you are you as natures birth of the divine.
Diana Delaney
Thursday, April 02, 2009 4:22:41 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Old photographs say so much
and so little
about the smiles, the hugs
and yesterday's pain.

I want one photo from among the albums
and fragments of memories
forgotten, relived, and repressed
again.

Holidays, birthdays, trips
and grandparents
are abundant and cheerful
with everyone dressed so nice
and scrubbed so clean

but these are not what I want.

Portraits! So posed with everyone's eyes
facing the camera and smiles so fixed,
and body language telling the truth
with every shoulder's lean.

So I spent what I could not afford
for Photoshop and now I know
it is easier to write poetry
than to erase the legitimate scene







Jan Jones
Thursday, April 02, 2009 4:42:40 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I am anatomy,
throughout eternity,
unto infinity, The battery.
The Bet Tree,
My virginity need not be questioned,
I gave birth to your mother's Earth,
To her and all of her siblings in the galaxy as you know of it,
As well as her dearest possessions,
Inner and outer space,
I am,
The mother of her children,
The great grandmother of her ancient architects,
I keep constant watch over their ancient pillars,
I am the matter that does and does not matter,
I divide, yet am undivided,
I am her,
I was here during her reign,
I will remain long after she is gone,
I am the gatekeeper who stands behind to look through the eye of Heru,
To marvel at my children in every hue,
I am not young,
neither am I old,
I am the Gene of Isis,
and so much of my story is completely untold,
And everyday I watch as the your mother earth spend,
her children and mine stray further away from the Origin of their being.


Racquel Charlemagne
mrscharlemagne7@gmail.com


Racquel Charlemagne
Thursday, April 02, 2009 4:52:30 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Sun escapes from ink
striking lives new beginnings
color born flash lights
cnusinov
Thursday, April 02, 2009 5:15:42 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Origin of Fear

My father's leather heel ground
my bare toes as he stepped back
in Yankees Market and the smell of
sausage, sawdust, cigarettes and
dry goods is forever
lodged together somewhere between my nose
and deep inside my ears
together with fear
even though it was an accident.
Nan Coleman
Thursday, April 02, 2009 5:31:24 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
April One

Mister Ellie Font?
Please return his urgent call
Oh I am a fool.
Nancy Goldenberg
Thursday, April 02, 2009 6:05:07 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
(PAD #1, origin poem)

SHIBARI

"When did it begin," the therapist asked,
"this desire to be bound?"
A long pause while
she remembered
and decided whether to tell,
or to make something up.
"When I was nine." she answered truthfully,
"I was playing hide and seek with a friend.
I hid behind my neighbor's ice cream freezer,
in her garage.
My friend couldn't find me.
It got dark, and my parents couldn't find me.
They called and called."
"And how did that make you feel?" asked the therapist.
(She tried not to roll her eyes at his cliche.)
"I was happy," she said,
"I was curled up into a small space.
I could barely move.
It was private."
"Did someone find you?"
he asked.
"No. After a long time, I came out.
My father cried when he saw me.
After that I hid in small spaces
every chance I got.
Under my bed.
Under my school building.
In my dog's house.
In the center of clothing racks
at the mall."
"But," he said
uncomfortably,
"in a sexual situation...
when you're tied up and
your partner can do
whatever he wants with you...
Isn't that the opposite of privacy?"
She smiled, got up,
and walked out of his office.
He could smell her perfume
for a moment, after she'd gone.
In the elevator she silently answered,
"No, of course not.
To expose everything and remain hidden
is the essence of privacy."
She had made the appointment to appease
a lover who suggested
it might be a problem
that she only had orgasms
when tied up in pretty Japanese knots.
She knew it wasn't a problem,
but now she could say she had gone,
and he would be pleased,
and would tie her up again.
He was very, very good
at tying knots.
Dhira Jones
Thursday, April 02, 2009 6:12:28 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
“It’s a cell phone thing”

There once was a lady who had her cell phone “on”
The days were numbered one through thirty
And sometime thirty one
The bill would come,
But her bank account statement said “none”
So, she got an extension
Not to mention a loan or two
To keep talking to all the people she knew
But one bright day two months before May
Rang the last ring on that cell phone-a-thing
It just ended with no payment and no loans
“Off” went the phone
And she cried a silent moan
No more chats and making plans
No more touching base with friends.
Will she live through this great lost, or
One day soon, will this cell phone resume?
“Ring-ring, hello”.
Yolanda Davis-Overstreet
Thursday, April 02, 2009 6:53:03 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Hi - I posted a poem today (Day One) and now can't find it in the millions (I exaggerate - but just a little) of entries posted after me. Any chance the submissions can be numbered when posted? I can remember my number, I think.

Thanks for this fun in April.

Joan
Joan
Thursday, April 02, 2009 7:58:19 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Origins



Something tangible is easily accepted,

where it originates is not. I question

when where how the universe began

what was before the cosmos, what was

before that, and before that, and that.

The beginning, intense, mind-blogging

to the extreme. I wonder how something

could originate when something had to

exist before origination. There are no voids,

no vacuums, surely there cannot be nothingness.



Origins might be like looking at a painting

of a mirror reflecting a mirror reflecting yet

another mirror unto infinity, thus there is

no beginning no ending everything is circular

no origins.



Lynne Nelsen

4-1-09

Lynne
Thursday, April 02, 2009 3:19:30 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
HEROIN
He moves through the darkness, sweet peace finally arrives
Clear voices in the illusion, become a clever beat
that penetrates
No expectation is a gift, no desire
No pain anymore, only stillness
Complete, perfect
Bold and not to be repeated
A shield inside the memories
The words are lost, somewhere
What a relief, but he wants to know
where this beauty goes… at the end

Karin Contovasilis – chillyb1@hotmail.com
kARIN cONTOVASILIS
Thursday, April 02, 2009 3:22:48 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
CINDERELLA
Cinderella takes the dawn like a potion
watches the view, before the day begins
A reminder that stars handed out in the dark
fade into the yellow sun
She is moved by the earth, but not taken in
by their eyes with regret
Through the light, their voices are soft

She keeps on with the tired decay
of their words and situation
Past the floor boards, she hears the echo
hollow and raw, but at last
the underground keeps her warm
and the shadows linger when the curtain is drawn
In between the empty spaces
the night begins
and she waits for him… to arrive

Karin Contovasilis
kARIN cONTOVASILIS
Thursday, April 02, 2009 3:35:31 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
DIFFERENT

Lowered lashes and a quick glance
Told her the truth
Two of them, in their pretty pink dresses
Ribbons in their hair
Patent leather shoes, pristine white socks
Delicate gold bracelets
Glancing in her direction, whispering behind their hands
Giggles and raised shoulders

Head hung down, shame made her blush
Anger flared, then quickly dimmed
Her faded cotton dress, already too short
Stringy dishwater hair
Scuffed, second hand shoes, heels worn down
Scrawny arms, chewed nails
If they only knew how many nights she prayed
But her momma stayed gone

Janne
Thursday, April 02, 2009 4:04:48 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Origins Poem

No one knows when or how it first began
It just appeared on day and settled in
It can manifest itself any time of day or night
Always surprising those who must deal with it
That's it purpose after all
Margaret Horn
Thursday, April 02, 2009 6:45:44 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Eve's Apple

I shouldn't have bitten,
sunk my teeth in so deep,
to the pure taste of pleasure,
but it tasted so sweet,
Erotic,
Exotic,
made me tingle with shame
it was then only then
I tasted first pain.
Janey Millea Clarke
Thursday, April 02, 2009 7:55:59 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just checking to see if I can do this. I can't seem to get my poems posted on the prompts.
Elaine
Thursday, April 02, 2009 8:31:24 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
i also posted a poem that isn't appearing - will try again
Barbara Clifford
Thursday, April 02, 2009 8:44:56 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Lonely Campus Blues
-David Yockel Jr.

Spring Break and nobody
told me.
That’s the story
of my life.

I pulled down
the main road
to campus and
found the street
empty.

Nothing but space
and No Parking
signs.

So I pulled
to the side
and
lit myself
a cigarette.

I sat and thought
about the droves
of young girls
in bikinis under
big red suns.

I thought about
the young college
boys with tickets
to Cancun and cash
from daddy falling
out of their pockets.

I sat and thought about
the long drive back
down Route 531,
the long drive back
to my house, my
fenced in yard
and my
family.
David Yockel Jr.
Thursday, April 02, 2009 8:54:58 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
The Shy World

Peering out the small bedroom window I watch
Others saunter by laughing, running.
Desperately longing to join, paralyzed by fear
I am a prisoner in the shy world
I dream, unable to act - hindered by self doubt
I wait to be freed by another who holds the key
To my insecurities.
The shy girl watches, waits, dreams, and cries.
Barbara Clifford
Thursday, April 02, 2009 8:55:17 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Silk not Figs

Upon awakening from her nap,
Eve pondered her life and long, lonely afternoon.
Would it be a walk in the secret garden?
A warm bath in a dung filled river,
a picnic in a serpent infested fig grove?
Adam was away for the day scouting a new home site,
so there was no one to talk to.

Perhaps she should design a new dress,
take his mind off the missing rib,
a recent divorce and bitter first wife.
Bring the fire back to their marriage.
Make him want to sleep in and think about babies

She sighed and looked at her chosen fabric.
What were the colors of a dutiful wife and mother?
Maybe red for the home fire and the first blood.
Perhaps green for a healed heart and the possibility of sons.
Looking at her ripening reflection in the water,
The image of youth had lost its perfection.

Was that how Adam once saw her?
Perfect, sub-servant, politically correct?
The new dress was deductive camouflage.
Strong yet supple, accenting curves and valleys,
Figs no longer covering the final reveal.


Mary
Thursday, April 02, 2009 9:14:12 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
California

Swallows you in white hot rays
of golden sun and blood red pomegranates
unblemished artichokes and smells of
urine and despair

I can't get out of this
and I must become immune
to graffiti screaming, "murder" and hungry
people pleading for food.

Inside I know I can't be one of you. I miss
the North East, the day when Spring finally
welcomes the sweet sound of Robins and the
smell of the earth.
Teva J. Glueck
Thursday, April 02, 2009 11:30:08 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Sing a song to keep my chin up
prance a step to keep from falling
I blow myself up, an inflated ego
stands against the howling wolves
I wear my pinspripes so my
polka dots look slimmer
I jump so I don't have to crawl
which stands to reason
when I want to cry
all I need is a laugh
and your sweet funny face
always seems to make me smile
Stephanie Ibbeken
Friday, April 03, 2009 1:10:09 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)


Childhood Feigned

She told him her mother wasn’t at home
as she popped the beans letting them fall into
the pot.

“Don’t know when she’ll return,” she replied as we all four watched his face
to see how long it would take him
to give up.

We wondered if he’d buy
that Mama
was one of us.

“Is she usually home this time of day?”
He inquired.
“Can’t say,”
came back the reply.
“She’s gone a lot.”

“Would you tell her I dropped by?” he requested
as he handed her his card.
“I sure will,” Mama complied.

A smirk slowly rose to her lips
as she eyed him retracing his steps on our walk.
I viewed the gleam,
then the self-satisfied grin that broke out on her face as he
legged it toward our neighbor’s house.

“That was easier than saying “‘no,’” she boasted.
Then she laughed out loud
once he was out of hearing range.

The beans kept popping
and we laughed with her as
the breeze cooled us that June afternoon
in North Carolina on our
screened-in side porch.

Denise Buschmann
April 1, 2009

Denise Buschmann
Friday, April 03, 2009 2:05:05 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Daily Determination

Even when you don’t feel like that morning ritual
It’s easier when you have made it habitual.
My two-mile walk is a not such a daunting deed
When I realize it provides the exercise I need.

It’s good for my heart, it’s good for my abs;
Add it to my weight-lifting, it tightens my flabs.
And it’s only possible after I take that first stride
So I am determined – it’s a matter of pride.

That’s the attitude I’m applying this poetry thing --
A matter of mental not physical conditioning!
Make that daily poem’s first step a character entry;
Your words turn to verses, your keyboard a sentry.
John Covell
Friday, April 03, 2009 2:36:58 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Having fun! I've decided to add another wrinkle to your challenge. I am hoping to do 30 poetic forms, as well, this month. A new form for each poem. {Let's hope I can get through the month with my sanity, and without having to write a sonnet!}

Thanks for all your hard work!
Shutta
www.shutta.com
Shutta| shuttaATshuttacrumDOTcom
Friday, April 03, 2009 3:21:24 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Stranger
I dared to live in a small town
I swore I would never do the same
Bringing up children is dangerous anywhere
Small world, small minds
I am but an outsider
I lived, I ate, I worshiped small town
They grew to hate me
I was the same as they
I asked to buried on their hill
They obliged
They gave me the lonely spot
On the bottom, by myself
It all runs downhill you know
I am but an outsider.
Sammy
Friday, April 03, 2009 5:06:49 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I have thousands words to describes my feel on you
but they will never work to brings you comeback...

I have a litle bit of love
but it will help me to keep thinking of you
no matter what you did on me....

because love is not just "love".........
love is...you!

Karina Riesta Alexandra
Friday, April 03, 2009 5:21:26 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
april fools
by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

today is the day of fools
highly anticipated
much celebrated
oft maligned
carnage on wheels
crucified the world over.


© 2009 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

Juanita Snyder
Friday, April 03, 2009 3:01:02 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
POT OF GOLD

AS I SIT HERE JUST SMELLING THE AIR
WHEN A CALM BREEZE BLEW BY, IT MADE ME STOP AND STARE
WAS IT A PERSON OR WAS IT THE MIST,
I COULD NOT FIGURE IT OUT, BUT I STARTED TO TWITCH

I LOOKED UP INTO THE SKY, OH WHAT A SIGHT
I SAW A BIG RAINBOW THAT WAS OH SO BRIGHT
THE COLOR WAS VIVID, THE SHAPE WAS JUST RIGHT
THERE WAS NO ENDING, JUST THE BEGINNING OF THE LIGHT

I TRIED TO FOLLOW THE RAINBOW TO WHERE I THOUGHT IT WOULD END
HOWEVER TO MY AMAZEMENT, I JUST KEPT RUNNING AND RUNNING AGAIN
I TRIED TO REACH THE MOUNTAIN TOP TO WHERE THE RAINBOW FELL WHEN I LOOKED BACK ALL I SAW WAS A WELL

WHEN I REACHED THE WELL, I GOT SCARED TO LOOK INSIDE
THEN OUT POP A LEPRECHAUN, WITH AN ODD BIG OLD SMILE
ARE YOU HERE TO TAKE MY GOLD HE SAID
BECAUSE I MUST LET YOU KNOW, THAT THERE A SPELL ON IT

I LAUGHED OUT LOUD NICE AND BOLD
I COULD SEE HE WAS LYING, BUT HE SAID BEHOLD
HERE A PERSON WHO TOUCHED IT, WHO I SAW WAS VERY OLD
THIS OLD MAN WAS FROZEN, STIFF AS A POLE.

THE MORAL OF THIS STORY IS DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING THAT DOES NOT BELONG TO YOU.


Pamela G. Pegram
Friday, April 03, 2009 6:58:27 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
April 1 Prompt

The Origin of Particular Stars



Taken to the sky
a river glimmering
in moonlight becomes stars.

Each star streaming
light like the ivory ribbon
you use to tie up
a daughters’ unruly hair.

Every star is a lover
refined by moonlight.

A hunter shot an arrow
at the sky. When that barb
pierced the moon
drops of moon blood rose
to become stars
hung on the indigo ceiling.

Children of the sun and moon
trillibant and brilliant
stars sing together, “We are
pieces of moon, we grow
from clouds.”
alana sherman
Friday, April 03, 2009 7:13:56 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Hi all,

I posted a comment yesterday, and wonder if the comments ever get answered, when the comment is really a question.

I just tried pasting my old comment in a new comment and it doesn't show up, maybe because it is HTML.

My question is: can each poem submitted be numbered? For ease in finding again? In the hundreds submitted?

Thanks, Joan
Joan
Friday, April 03, 2009 11:01:02 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
My Certificate and Badge

I guess for the eBook I won’t be eligible
Because I’ve already violated the posting rule.
I was suppose to apply my poems (legible)
To the correct prompt, so I am a fool.

I guess that’s the pits because – don’t you know –
I couldn’t care less for the fame eBook would bring;
I’m not in this for the Internet’s glow.
It’s meeting the challenge – that’s the real thing.


I will have accomplished something I set out to do;
Earning a certificate and badge – whoopee! –
Writing thirty poems in thirty days is a coup,
And they can’t take that away from me.
John Covell
Saturday, April 04, 2009 12:18:11 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
THE PROBLEM WITH HANK (PAD April 3, 2009)

As a dog, he wasn't much
Wouldn't fetch or rollover
Chewed up my best shoes
Chased the neighbor's cat up a tree
Came home smelling like a skunk

As a dog, he wasn't much
Wouldn't sit up or beg
Drug the garbage out of the can
Chased the meter reader half a block
Refused to sleep on his own bed

As a dog, he wasn't much
Wouldn't bring in the paper
Tore the curtains off the window
Chased the ice cream truck
Wouldn't eat the food I bought

As a dog, he wasn't much
Wouldn't sit on command
Peed on the neighbor's bushes
Jumped the fence
Dug up the garden

As a dog, he wasn't much
But I sure do miss his killer breath
His rough tongue on my face in the morning
The soggy bones he left in my shoes
The problem with Hank is, I miss him!


Janne
Saturday, April 04, 2009 12:34:50 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
The problem with our problems:
Walking after the evening news,
I breathe spring up into my brain, soft and cool
It cleans the tired spindles in my skull,
Soothes out the tangled folds of too much thinking.
So soft and cool the breath spreads even to my ears my jaw my hair
Full of sighs, I keep pulling it in, like a new life, another chance.
Until, where the sidewalks cross, a sign as big as a door, on a neighbor’s porch:
“This house for sale by owner to the highest bidder; Auction Saturday”
It reminds of my friend, grandmother just like me,
She works to find buyers for foreclosed homes.
And another, who finds money to clean out the Licking River,
Uses youth power to build a river path and park,
Get rid of old carts and tires where we kayak, just below the Ohio.
My task, to speak for clean air, homes free of lead,
where no child gasps for air or cannot learn.
As our world unravels,
With grandmothers every where,
We try to mend our city’s fraying seams.

4/3/09
Carol Igoe PAD
Carol Igoe
Saturday, April 04, 2009 1:21:55 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Appear To Me

Songs from my heart fly to him with grace
I just wish he could catch the melody I throw
feeling gone from my existance,
then feeling him,
I suddenly come alive
swollen heart strings
form a puddle of soothing calm
appear to me my sweet,
appear to me tonight
Stephanie Ibbeken
Saturday, April 04, 2009 2:26:18 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
The Problem with Money
I tried to get over my problem today,
I tried to remember just what to say
To the boss as I wanted to tell him off
“I need a raise!” as I choke and cough.
The wages are frozen the plant is in need
The sales are so thin, the numbers but bleed
In red, we see red, all over the books
We are almost as broke as the national crooks.
I couldn’t do it, I tried and I failed
So back through the office doors I sailed.
The problem with money is you need to keep shut
The mouth that takes what it’s fed is a butt
The shoe that meets that butt is a ten
Solving problems with views can’t be dealt with by men
I do what I can to best my life
Solving my problems will be my strife.

Sammy
Saturday, April 04, 2009 4:37:46 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Songs To Sleep and Waken To

“Flow Gently, Sweet Afton”and “Run Softly, Blue River”– two songs,
One a Scottish ballad centuries old, the other from Cash country.
Although there are two lyrics, to both one theme belongs:
When you dream, my love, I hope you dream of me.

“Flow gently, I’ll sing thee a song in thy praise” –
Such songs are born of the verses penned in rhyme,
Just as it was from Robert Burns’ days
‘Til Johnnie Cash asked to let her “dream for a time.”

Let the gently flowing rivers of Afton and Blue,
Or whatever river comforts your dreams and reveries,
Bring poetic thoughts as peaceful as the river’s true
That wake you from your slumber like these melodies.
John Covell
Saturday, April 04, 2009 11:07:50 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)

OLIVE THE OWL

My eyes take over at a moment's notice
At a 360 degree angle, my head twirls completely around,
Who, who, who -- my favorite phrase
More importantly, my signature sound.

Gillie the gopher told me
How glad she was to see me today,
I'd warned her from the foxes
And kept her out of harm's way.

On the back of Eric the elephant
I sat proudly and rode up high;
I even had a chance to bond
And converse with Beverly the butterfly.

At night the woods can be scary
Breaks down even the best,
Invitations to my party
Left none to get any rest.

They all called for my great wisdom
I gave them that drenched in my smarts;
Each animal planted on me a big kiss
In return for my golden heart.



Stephanie Thomas
Sunday, April 05, 2009 1:15:45 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
alone
alone in my thoughts
alone in my bubble world
reaching out
but still I identify with alone
alone is a past time of mine
she maybe is a relative,
because being alone
I know her well
no need to impress
no appointments made
she is my companion
my shadow of the day
alone
Stephanie Ibbeken
Sunday, April 05, 2009 1:45:45 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Tuffy

I can't ever remember living without
the unconditional love
The brown trusting eyes so clear
now clouded
The blonde fur that grew and curled over night
it seemed
Has faded and become course as sun burnt grass
He loves me, He loved me, he did
I took care of him and took for granted
That he would always be there
He's dying you know,
My home will never be the same.
My heart may not endure the pain.
Sammy
Sunday, April 05, 2009 4:39:16 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
JUST A SEWER RAT (PAD April 4, 2009)


I'm just a sewer rat, not your fancy kind
Rattus Rattus, Rattus norvegicus, all the same to me
A sewer rat is all I'll ever be
Not a lab rat, tortured till I have no mind

Black rat, brown rat whatever species or age
I'll rather be a sewer rat living free
Than a fancy rat, bred for living in a cage
A barnyard, haystack, a snug hole for me

To "rat on someone" is a dirty thing
I don't understand why are humans so mean
And to be called a "rat" has a nasty ring
When we're really quite intelligent and clean

Just a sewer rat, but a pest is what they call us
They swear we spread disease
Why they say we even started the nasty fuss
Black Plague with our rat fleas


Janne
Sunday, April 05, 2009 1:26:59 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
sorry didn't realize there was a subject matter, will watch more carefully from now on. :)
Stephanie Ibbeken
Sunday, April 05, 2009 2:36:30 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Mixed Message Sunday

Called Palm Sunday and/or Passion Sunday,
It calls to mind the last days of Our Savior’s life.
Yet how can so much be wrapped up in one day
When triumph is captured along with sorrow and strife?

The triumph is massive, kingly impressive;
Treated like a monarch, the Christ is esteemed,
Jesus, the Messiah, enters with pomp expressive
And the people see hope of being redeemed.

With palm branches they spread before His approach,
They cheer Him and hail Him with hosannas aloud.
His good works proceed him, are beyond Jews’ reproach
Until their leaders start fearing the crowd.

Then comes the reversion, the message is mixed:
If we let Him gain popularity what will Rome do?
We’ve got to end this conversion, our strategy is fixed;
We can’t let him live; let’s ready death’s crew.

So with the liturgy now looking ahead the Passion is read,
And the Sunday of joy becomes a solemn prediction:
Before the week is done Our Lord will be dead,
And our sorrow is full over His Crucifixion.
But wait!
John Covell
Sunday, April 05, 2009 6:37:04 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)

THE TOWN OF NOWHERE (PAD April 5, 2009)

There is a sign that points to Nowhere
Now it's a ghost town empty and bare
The streets filled with rolling tumbleweeds
and dusty signs, paint faded with wear
the relentless wind and sun that feeds
on the forgotten benches and chairs
scattered among the consuming weeds
and the rattling bones of the inns
scraping, scratching in the lonely wind
A reminder, the town of Nowhere
once stood lively and brazenly there

Janne
Sunday, April 05, 2009 8:26:49 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
The great pyramids are mans mysterious wonder
early man brought to us
such a magnificent landscape
to cherish and worship,
Egyptians sacred tombs
to the sphinx giant presence
demanding a respect,
beauty with an underlying
theme of mystery is not only
a perfect tourist attraction
but doesn't this concept hold a space
in our human nature,
to see a perfect statue,
but if there is a flaw
a blinds eye will be
seen, such lovely things
should not tell all
for this is why
we keep coming back...
Stephanie Ibbeken
Monday, April 06, 2009 1:30:39 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
this is a test
this is only a test
this is not a poem
Alice Persons
Monday, April 06, 2009 3:23:46 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
cool
i'm in.
doreen peri
Monday, April 06, 2009 8:12:29 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
AT ALAMEDA'S LANDMARK THEATER
for April 5, 2009

"Stars bigger than life will shimmer on the screen
in this ornate film palace."* I wrote when the
remodeling and reopening was announced
of Alameda's Landmark Theater.

It's open now. We go. And yet,
the biggest show,
lined up on the sidewalk, waiting to get in,
the show begin, is us. We pass time telling
what we did just yesterday, tomorrow's
dream. Recall some old time. Landmarks
of our lives go by. And, so, outside the
beautiful, reopened theater, we
after all, enjoy most seeing friends,
stars of our real life.



* line from poem by Mary Rudge,
Poet Laureate, City of Alameda
written for the Grand Re-Opening of
the Alameda Theater, May, 2008


Mary Rudge, Alameda,Ca
Mary Rudge
Monday, April 06, 2009 11:00:08 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Any Excuse Will Do

I’m sick. I’ve got a cold.
I feel like death warmed over.
Fever, or is it chills, taking hold;
Feed it or starve it, just let it be over.

I don’t feel like writing a poem.
I feel like blankets and pillows
And the comforts of home --
And wind in the willows.

A forced rhyme. That’s really bad.
A sinus headache made me do it.
(And not well I might add!)
Okay. I’ll stop; I can’t put you through it.
John Covell
Tuesday, April 07, 2009 4:34:44 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
LOST DOG (PAD April 6, 2009 - Lost)

Jake strains at his leash
Hurrying me across the street
A picture tacked to the telephone pole
Just a small black and white photo
The words "Missing Dog" underneath
Reward offered, sorely missed
A pleading telephone number
My head fills with visions
Of someone waiting by the phone
For a call that never comes

Janne
Tuesday, April 07, 2009 1:54:02 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Cough to Save Your Life

Many people die of heart attacks alone.
Nobody’s near to give them CPR.
It isn’t something done over the phone,
Nor can you get while driving your car.

Here’s a plan that may real benefits reap,
If you feel the signs of a heart attack coming on:
Cough. Cough good and hard and deep.
Breathe deep and make the cough prolong.

Coughing will work the muscles of your heart.
It will get oxygen in your lungs, blood it feeds.
Do it every two minutes once you start.
It just may be the time your old heart needs.
John Covell
Wednesday, April 08, 2009 1:02:45 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
CLEAN THIS MESS (PAD April 7, 2009 Clean & Dirty)

I feel defeated before I start
The room where I produce the art
Is consumed by valleys of mess
What I am about to do, is confess
The job has grown much too big
for someone who is such a pig
And, how I do love to procrastinate
but I must feed my hunger to create
So I'll grab my enchanted shovel
and go about cleaning up this hovel

All that started out a disaster
will shine with a steadily glowing luster
The dust and cobwebs will disappear
All the clutter and even my brassiere
The piles of books, magazines and paper
will drift away like ghostly vapor
I'll scrub and polish the dingy floors
I'll wash and paint the dirty doors
I'll throw open the curtains and raise the sash
yell and proclaim good riddance to trash


Janne
Wednesday, April 08, 2009 6:37:59 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
My Taste in Music

On the hump between my truck’s front seats
You will find three CD holders with all sleeves filled.
They contain well-over 3000 musical treats –
At least they are treats as I see them billed.

The songs will take you far – within bounds:
Pop and country, oldies and “Your Hit Parade,”
Without offending you with these harsh sounds:
Hard rock, disco, hip-hop, any screaming charade.

I prefer the Mills Brothers over the Blues Brothers
And American Bandstand over today’s tired sorties.
I’ll take years of Country and Western over many others.
But don’t spare me the big band sound of the forties.

I can probably defend my senior musical taste
As anyone who grew up in the fifties has,
But I must apologize for one critical waste:
I never developed an appreciation for jazz.

I should have shared more of my kids’ fix on ZZ-Top
Or even on the artist who had trouble with his name,
But at disco any link to good music came to a stop
And the music of MY life is stuff that’s pretty tame.
John Covell
Wednesday, April 08, 2009 8:05:05 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)

MORNING TEA (PAD April 8, 2009 - Routine)

My morning tea
Ofttimes begins
Right after the dog
Nudges me awake
Insistent on his
Necessary trip to the yard
Gurgling, boiling water
Tipped into the teapot
Exquisite, delectable
Aromas of smoky origins

Janne
Wednesday, April 08, 2009 10:53:14 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
trying a second time to post
Paula Bernal
Thursday, April 09, 2009 5:32:49 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
THE FUNERAL (PAD April 9, 2009 - Memory)

The heat, the smell of the yellow roses
A fly crawled across the back of my hand
Someone shifted uneasily in the front pew
A cough from the back of the room
The minister stood and cleared his throat
I watched his mouth move, his words invisible
I swung my legs and played with pop beads
Till my Aunt reached over and took them away

The heat, the smell of the freshly dug earth
An ant crawled across my shiny new shoe
Someone blew his nose into his white hankie
A stifled sob from the row behind
The minister stood and cleared his throat
His thin hair lifting in the hot breeze
I dug the toe of my shoe in the loose dirt
Till my aunt stopped me with a warning look

The heat, the greasy smell of the fried chicken
Everyone kept shooing and swatting at flies
Someone dabbing at their red, swollen eyes
A murmur of voices from the back yard
The minister stood and cleared his throat
Sweat beaded out on his brow and nose
I sat in a tree reading, swinging my legs
Till my aunt came and made me get down




Janne
Friday, April 10, 2009 12:27:46 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Don’t Pay, I Say

Let it be known here and now
That if I am ever held for ransom,
For my release don’t pay a sou
No matter what threats hit the transom.

Let the extortionists demand
And threaten torture or death;
Let this be my dying command:
Kill them with me and don’t spare a breath.

If they gain from my capture,
They’ll do it to another poor victim,
So send them to their god or their rapture,
And I’ll take my chances on my outcome.
John Covell
Friday, April 10, 2009 10:31:06 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
The Ninth Degree Memory

At my cousin’s house, hanging out
with children under ten, my mother’s
vase triggers childhood when I would
open our front door wide to place
an elephant doorstop along its side
and capture breeze. It was made
of heavy copper colored metal
with white tusks and made me think
we were Republicans but I was told,
not so. Where are those rounded
haunches, hefty ears, thin tail, and
turned up trunk today, gone
to Dante’s Ninth Circle, hell’s
melting pot where all things recyclable
converge? I want my elephant back.

ann Privateer
Friday, April 10, 2009 5:08:21 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I don't know if you will read this, but I want to know if there's a way to edit my poem. I submitted my one on memories because I needed to move on, but thought of a different ending as I ran today.
Colleen Murphy
Friday, April 10, 2009 8:15:25 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
FRIDAY (PAD April 10, 2009 - Friday)

The sixth day of the week
Good Friday, Black Friday
His man Friday, Girl Friday
Thank God it's Friday
Freaky Friday
Friday the 13th
Not a day for the meek

Crucifixion, Great Depression
"in the black"
Robinson Crusoe
End of the workweek
Disney's freaky switch
Superstition
All have Friday in Common

Good, bad, lucky or none
Freya or Venus
The last of the weekdays
Friday is payday
garbage day
takeout pizza
And the day the lottery is won





Janne
Saturday, April 11, 2009 1:25:48 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Blood and Water

“One of the soldiers thrust a lance into his side,
And immediately blood and water flowed out.”
The last of His blood – He drained all inside;
The draining of his life was what He was all about.

He drained His life for us – that we could live,
That we could have life everlasting,
That we could sin and He would forgive,
That His grace would be ours for the asking.

What flowed out was blood and water mixed;
So he even gave His body’s greatest element.
From eternity His death for us was fixed,
And we have but one task: believe that settlement.
John Covell
Sunday, April 12, 2009 12:35:11 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I keep entering the latest code but nothing seems to get posted. sp
Shirley Plummer
Sunday, April 12, 2009 1:59:04 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Darling Daughter, I Know You Are Busy

Okay. So my daughter got me into this, sure --
And I thought she was going to do it too,
But I haven’t seen one poem yet from her
So I guess alone I’ll have to see it through.

Like I said in an earlier poetic missive
I will take comfort in accomplishing a lot
And I’ll try hard not to be too dismissive
If my creative, inspiring daughter does not.

Ha! Love you, Carrie!
John Covell
Monday, April 13, 2009 1:10:41 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)

So We Decided To Bury Grandma

So we decided to bury
grandma
after all
she had been
saying that
she wanted to
be cremated
but we thought
maybe it was her
just trying to put
a little extra into
the kitty she
thought she
was leaving for
us
which we had decided
not to tell her had
been put to sleep
years and years ago
by some fellow she had
met when she in her young
eighties and he a gigilo
despite his manners
So we decided to bury
grandma after all
in the plot that she
used to drag us to
on Sundays out in
what she called the
"country" her "real-
estate" with a tree
and a bench
a bench for sitting
an important plot
not just any old
one so we decided
what was not really
a decision at all
not really to do
what we knew she
had waited for for
a lifetime
We talked just a bit
and even though her
last wishes were different
we knew all of us what she
wanted
So we decided to bury Grandma
under the tree with tiny white
flowers floating down
on a sparkling clear
day as we all sat
together on the bench

Pearl Ketover Prilik
Monday, April 13, 2009 2:41:07 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Easter

But wait!

Last Sunday was the Sunday of mixed messages;
But not this one!
All of the Sundays of Lent were but presages
Of the Risen Son.

He has risen as He said. Glory be to God!
We are saved.
Not by any act of ours but by the path He trod,
The grave He braved.

He conquered the grave and gave us life anew.
The new Adam, He.
We, the undeserved, the children Adam drew,
From death now free!.

His Resurrection breaks the chains death.
He saved our race.
We can now look forward to sainthood’s breath
By Easter’s grace.

Alleluia!

John Covell
Tuesday, April 14, 2009 2:42:43 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Ex Corde Ecclesiae

Much is said about two things in this papal proxy:
Diversity is the hue and cry of liberal preaching,
Identity is the fundamental tenet of orthodoxy;
Both claim to be following Christ’s teaching.

The liberal thought is to emphasize “catholic” with a small ‘c’
Allowing for the universal needs of multi-cultural ideology.
The problem therein is that colleges identified with Catholicity
Are using that relationship based on principled theology.

When that principled theology is at odds with liberal diversity,
Views that are demonstrably at variance with what the Church attests,
The choice is not between being or not being a good university --
The choice is between being and not being intellectually honest.

A college that compromises the integrity it carries in its faith-base
It is being intellectually dishonest with its academic infrastructure;
If it will violate that intrinsic worth for the sake of the liberal case,
It has thus violated its honor and lost its authentic structure.
John Covell
Tuesday, April 14, 2009 7:11:57 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Mine, all Mine!

Neither singer nor actor nor athlete
Could measure up to him,
For he was the prize to be won,
At any cost,
And he was mine, all mine!

And his silver words
Did glitter about me
With wisdom far deeper
To my appreciative ears
Than even those of the great philosophers
And he was mine, all mine!

The prize to be won at any cost,
And for him I packed up my books
And sealed them up with double packing tape,
And I found a safe place for them in the garage
Because one day I would no longer need them,
When he became mine, all mine!

And I saw the sparkle in his eyes
When first I pranced about in front of him
In the brand new khakis
And smart baby blue polo shirt he longed to see me wear,
And the penny loafers I blew my last paycheck on -
And the simple gold earrings
I blew the paycheck before on.
When we went to dinner that night,
I knew he was mine, all mine -

And the following day, back in the solitude of my own house
When he was at work,
I put on the outfit he hated -
The one my family and friends said looked so stunning
That turned many a gentleman's head

But my man was mine, all mine -
And he would disapprove -
And when I had put on the khakis and polo shirt
Once again, the real me - the me he loved,
I took that ridiculous costume
And I put it in a cardboard box -
Never to wear it again.
Katrelya Angus
Tuesday, April 14, 2009 7:56:50 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
The Lie Renounced

I took that ridiculous costume
And I put it in a cardboard box -
Never to wear it again -
The khakis - all ten pairs,
The pale colored polo shirts
That washed out my complexion,
And the six-hundred dollar pair
Of "penny" loafers
That I bought to entice and seduce
The love of my life.
The other girls at work scolded me when I called the salon:
"Don't you dare cut off that hair!"
But I knew it would make him happy.
Next to the salon was a cafe -
And there I saw him,
Hands intertwined with those
Of a perky preppy young lass,
In a pink polo shirt,
Short hair just perfect,
And khakis looking like they belonged.
Alas! A lass!
He told me she was his friend,
But his eyes and hers said otherwise.
I tore into the salon and said "Cancel please" to the receptionist.
I went to his house and removed
The "promise" ring, and left it with a note:
"Dear Sugar, I'm sorry - please keep the music
We listened to for so long.
So long forever."
And I drove home at funereal speed,
Then I called my priest whom I had not seen
Since last Christmas, and confessed
That I had been living a lie
To win the heart of a man
Who would not love me
With pure agape unconditional love.
Now my beloved books now grace my shelves,
And the exotic outfits that suited me so well
Now line my closet,
Except for the one I am wearing as I write,
Sun shining on my face and hands.
For when I turned away from "Sugar",
I turned to the truth
That made me free.


Katrelya Angus
Wednesday, April 15, 2009 3:18:03 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Ask and Be Not Proud

Many people find it hard to ask for favors.
(And I can readily relate to their reservation.)
There’s something about the vulnerability it savors,
The sense that one’s weakness is under observation.

Asking is really the second self-critical step;
The harder first one is admitting there is a need,
A condition our false pride won’t easily accept
But one to which we should humbly pay heed.
John Covell
Wednesday, April 15, 2009 10:32:21 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
The Generational Tax

April 15. The day for a tea party
To commemorate the original event.
It’s good, it’s showy, it’s full and hearty –
But will it even one new tax prevent?

I have my doubts about its efficacy
Because taxes – or tax money, at least –
Buys so much power it’s profligacy.
Elected officials are too happy to feed the beast!

Will they listen to the voices of foment,
Or just satisfy the beast they are feeding?
The answer is whether they’ll live for the moment
Or save our children from the ill-fate they are seeding.
John Covell
Friday, April 17, 2009 2:49:33 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
The Hair of the Dog That Bit You

The phrase is used nowadays
To recommend drinking a do-over
By using last night’s drunken ways
To cure this morning’s hangover.

The method goes back to old medicine
In fighting infection with its like sore
And may have had some successes back then,
Though failures were known to be more.

But if I just got bit by an angry pit bull,
I’m not sure I’d going looking about
To find one of his buddies to grab a mouthful
Of my other hand to snap in his snout.
John Covell
Friday, April 17, 2009 10:58:35 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I realize one of the underlying rules in the poem-a-day scheme is to not pick up a poem from the past and count it in the package, but I’m going to cheat a little ... because it’s my birthday! So here’s a slightly altered poem from my 57th birthday.

On a 64th Birthday

Of my three score years and ten
Sixty-four have reached their end.
Though each could tell a different story,
I’m not here to take an inventory.

I’m not so sage that those accounts
Would provide the reader rich amounts
Of lessons learned or bridges burned
Or useful knowledge from pages turned.

We learn from our mistakes, they claim;
And mine are many, approaching fame.
But mine are mine and might not be
As instructive to others as to me.

So I won’t use this verse to preach,
For it might not attain effective reach
Unless I realize life’s moral bookshelf
Holds mostly books aimed at myself.

I hope I learned enough from my years
To keep from bringing others tears,
To find in the troubles life has cast,
I met the challenge of caring, and passed.

If many more years should be my lot,
I hope I’ll live them having not
The lack of courage to look for more
Of what I’ve faced at sixty-four.

John Covell
Saturday, April 18, 2009 9:28:33 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Let It Fall

Into every life some rain must fall.
It feeds the roots that make us strong.
Without the rain and storms and all
We couldn’t cope with gloom that comes along.

Every day can’t be a bright and sunny day;
The flowers would wilt and we would fail
To see and take nature’s instructive way
To learn from life’s treasure and travail.

The rain in our lives gives water to our tears
And without the wetness our dry eyes would burn.
So think of rain as calming to our fears
And clouds as hope-filled lessons that we learn.

Smile when that nourishment comes pouring down;
It’s change that makes a bright day even brighter.
The cloudburst is just an occasional turn-around
That spices life and makes our burdens lighter.
John Covell
Sunday, April 19, 2009 8:34:26 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Short Stories

I once had a collection of short story anthologies
Numbering over 500 or more.
Because I was moving and didn’t favor shipping these,
I donated most of the them to the Job Corps.

My son said it was probably a good decision
Because I’d never get to reading them all.
Still, I couldn’t make the cut with precision
So more than 50 I packed in the U-Haul

I just can’t break the habit I’ve come to enjoy
Of sitting down with Poe or Welty or Melville,
Or a thousand others from Twain to Tolstoy;
They are tellers of tales with lessons that linger still.

I have no great problem recalling the intricate plots,
And characters like Bartleby, Gatsby, and Tobermory.
The problem I have is choosing from of all of these lots
Which one is my favorite author, hero, and story.

John Covell
Monday, April 20, 2009 11:46:32 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
The Odds of Winning

Checking out the back of a lottery ticket
Or warnings on any million-dollar give-away,
You would wonder why anyone would pick it
As their way of being a millionaire someday.

The chances are astronomically high
Of being the lucky mega-million winner.
So one wonders how in the world and why
One would choose this way to make their wallet thinner.

Yet tens of millions buy tickets all the time
And other self-taxed, state-run games of chance.
Because they think the winning part is sublime
Though the pay-off rarely does their life enhance.
John Covell
Wednesday, April 22, 2009 2:25:13 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Wear Your Helmet

There may be exceptional reasons not to,
But that’s just what they are: exceptions to the rule.
A.B.A.T.E. might argue for the freedom school,
But wearing the helmet is the right thing to do.

A motorcyclist’s helmet is called a brain-bucket
Because usually an accident done on two tires
Means the fatal head injury is what transpires
Because the force was too much for what struck it.

So some riders figure with fatalism in stride
That the helmet doesn’t do much good anyway;
They figure it’s an incumbrance getting in the way
Of wind in their hair and attention to the ride.

As a motorcycle rider with experience in a collision
I offer two challenges to “no helmet” in this spirit:
It’s the survivable crash that gives the helmet merit,
And four-wheel drivers respect the helmet-on decision.

Since respect is what we motorcyclists expect and deserve
Wearing the helmet is a sign that our sense is sound;
And for that minor accident that put our head on the ground
It’s the head protecting gear that our sense will preserve.
John Covell
Wednesday, April 22, 2009 3:25:15 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
SOUNDS OF NATURE

CD CD DVD
CD CD DVD CD
CD DVDVD DVD CDCD
CD DVD CDCD DVDVD CD
CD DC CD DC

BOTTLE BOTTLE
CHIPOTLE BOTTLE
CHIPOTLE BOTTLE CHIPOTLE
CHORTLE CHIPOTLE

BATIKABAT BATIKABATIKABAT
BAT BATIKABATIKABAT
ENGLISH BATIKABAT BATBATIKA
BATIKANGOLAN BAT BAT

SCOOP POOP SCOOP
SCOOP YER POOP DOPE
SCOOP YER PUPPY POOP
NOPE KORGI POOP PUP
POOP YER GODDURNED SCOOP
POP
Vaughn Stelzenmuller
Thursday, April 23, 2009 12:12:24 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Just One Monthly

It really shouldn’t be the most trying of drives.
(Finishing a monthly magazine on time –
That is, before the next issue arrives).
Still, that’s the topic of this rhyme.

I get only one monthly, The Atlantic,
And I enjoy all but its supposed verse.
Yet the new issue arrives and I’m frantic;
I have a half-read left-to-read curse.

Yes, there are other priorities in my life
And I don’t read short stories as much I wish,
Or golf, or ride, or just relax away the strife,
Or play video games, or hunt, or fish.

Still, it seems like a small challenge to meet:
To finish The Atlantic’s well-written thrust
Before the next month’s set hits the street –
I’ll blame the poem-a-day for this month’s bust.
John Covell
Friday, April 24, 2009 3:28:00 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Deal ‘em

You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em
and know when to fold ‘em –
Which comes from a little knowin’
of what the other guys are showin’.

But our card games aren’t life changin’
no bank account re-arrangin’ --
Just a few old gamblin’ sortas
playin’ for some quartas.

Texas hold ‘em, Omaha, and seven stud –
but none of that wild card crud
(We may be less than bluffing jurists,
but we are a pack of poker purists).

It’s double bet for openers on five-card draw;
if there’s none, low hand is law.
It’s dealer’s choice with no call appeals.
All set then, let’s go. First jack deals.
John Covell
Saturday, April 25, 2009 1:46:31 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
A Birthday Card Worth Waiting For

I got a belated birthday card from one daughter today.
It was, as usual, well worth waiting for.
Touching cards from the others I have tucked away
But this one added to their emotion even more.

Because you listened to me, it said with gratitude,
I grew to know my words were real.
Because you let me express my every attitude
I learned to speak up for what I feel.

Because you talked and listened to me
I knew you were interested in dreams I had
And I gained confidence to be what I could be –
And that’s why I owe you so much, Dad.

As a father I can’t tell her how much that means
But, thankfully, I guess I don’t have to, it seems.

Thank you, Carrie – and thank you too, Mike and Gena. I love you all so much. I’m glad I could be a “Dad” to such wonderful, thoughtful children.
John Covell
Sunday, April 26, 2009 12:30:16 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Weekend Golfing

A forty-two on the front and fifty-one on the back.
Why can I hit the ball so well for a while and then hack?
The clubs are the same ones I started with at tee time’s call
And the ball doesn’t make much difference to me at all.
So why can I hit a beautiful drive off the No. 1 tee
And crush the same shot on No. 11 – into a tree?

It’s as if a gremlin hid in my bag coming off nine
And decided he’d teach this weekend golfer the line.
He’d teach me that the 40-foot putt on three
Was just a fluke when I miss tenth’s four-footer for birdie.
He’d take that 3-wood shot on five that was a piece of cake
And send the same shot on fifteen slicing into the lake.

The pars on the first nine turn to double bogeys after the turn;
The pitch and runs for easy tap-ins become lessons to unlearn.
I realize a weekend golfer hasn’t got the pro’s expertise,
But one would think that think he repeat shots with ease
If he could address the ball and hit the sweet spot again
Just like he did on seven and eight when he won the skin.

The just-missed chip for bird on the dogleg par five fourteen
Makes you think you’ve got the touch back in time at fifteen
Until you send that second shot so deep into the woods
Even the ground squirrels give up looking for the goods.
There is one consolation for the weekend golfer’s soul:
The bad shots make for great regrets at the nineteenth hole.
John Covell
Sunday, April 26, 2009 2:47:16 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Dominoes

I knew about this game, in general, as a kid
But thought the idea of dotted tiles was just ho-hum.
Card games were more of what I did
And I thought matching dominoes was dumb.

Later, in the Air Force, stationed in San Angelo,
I would stop downtown and see domino players in heaven.
The Mexicans would play the tiles with speed and show
There was more to this game than I saw in it at seven.

Forty more years now have me living near the Rio Grande
And enjoying the cultural highlights of the Texas plain,
One of which is playing dominoes with a motley band
Of senior couples who love to play “The Mexican Train.”
John Covell
Sunday, April 26, 2009 7:41:55 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Thank you for your work, Robert. The month has been a joy. With surgery early on the 29th, the last two prompts will be a challenge for me, but it really doesn't matter, does it? This exercise has re-energized my writing, in all forms, added beauty to my world, and generated a universe of on-line comrades, strangers that we now know so well, and, at last, I found a title for my blog: http://daniellivingpoet.blogspot.com/


Daniel Paicopulos
Monday, April 27, 2009 12:47:50 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Hi, Robert.
I just wanted to thank you so much for all of your hard work on the challenge. It's been a HUGE blessing to me this past month and I am already mourning its end.

I also wanted to let you know that I had to use my husband's email address to be able to get through your registration process, for some reason (perhaps because I am the only one at my email domain, so it isn't widely recognized). I can get emails through is address no problem, but wanted to include my own, as well.

It is:
de@wordplaybyde.com

Again, thanks so much for all of the awesome prompts, and the many, many hours you will spend reading. There are some incredible poets on here, and it's been a privilege to make some attempts of my own among them!

Thanks!
de jackson
De Jackson
Tuesday, April 28, 2009 3:32:26 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Conversation with the Past

Who would you pick if you could talk to anyone from the past?
Many millions would say “Jesus” so let’s take that for granted.
But who would be the one other person, if you were asked
And that wish would be fulfilled with time supplanted?

How far back in history would you go to get his/her insight?
Would you choose to talk with a philosophical idealist?
Or would you would consider world change as out-of sight
And decide it would be better to learn coping from a realist?

Would you choose someone who was just your own personal ideal
Or would you choose someone that you could then share with all?
Maybe that person would be one-and-the-same, as you surely feel,
But would you separate your special reasoning from a clarion call?

Would the person you choose have you laughing until you cry
Or would you choose to have some sobering, profound warning to heed?
Would the person make it more exciting to live or easier to die?
It’s impossible, of course, but just choosing might plant a thought-seed.
John Covell
Wednesday, April 29, 2009 1:22:49 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
It’s Only Paper, Life Goes On

So your 401K is down to levels that make you frantic.
Now is just the time for caution. Patience. Do not panic.
Unless you were going to spend your nest egg this year,
Now’s not the time cash in at a loss and mainly out of fear.
Your mutual funds took a hit (and the bottom may still be lower)
But the long-term is looking better – just coming a little slower.
If you’re living on the interest and other means of income,
Keep the present in the forefront and live on less (and then some).
Perhaps your big concern is that your bequests are utterly undone;
Don’t worry, your children will survive just as earlier ones have done.

John Covell
Wednesday, April 29, 2009 11:42:51 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
I Think, Therefore This Is

“I think, therefore I am,” Descartes has said;
That’s fair, I think – and how it fills my head!

To grasp at life means more than doing things,
But thinking full about the end it brings.

Reflecting on the cause and effect of will
Does make the difference between good and ill.

The human trait of thought behind an act
Determines being, sets intent as fact.

That much means thought will fit the “is” appeal.
So, yes, “I think, therefore I am” is real.
John Covell
Friday, May 01, 2009 2:43:01 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
A Unique Dining Experience

I have a souvenir menu from four years ago.
From a restaurant called The Horny Toad.
I just called them to see if eating there was still a “go”
And, yes, they are still serving on Cave Creek Road.

That road is in Arizona’s town of the same quaint name,
North of Phoenix (“and all them other little old towns”) –
Which it says on the map (in itself a little game)
That entertains about the settlers’ ups and downs.

The map is folksy and great – don’t get me wrong –
But the food on the menu is the real drawing card:
Items to satisfy any appetite you’ve “brung” along;
It’s so loaded with specials the choices are hard.

There’s the usual chicken, salads, steaks, and fish,
But they’re prepared in this place like in no other.
Besides that there’s homemade meatloaf if you wish,
(It’s so very delicious you’ll think of your mother.)

But wait. There’s the best bar-b-que ribs in the state
And pork chops – and even liver & onions;
Fajitas to die for, and a Mexican shrimp plate –
O-rings so scrumptious I’ll just call them fun’ions!

Don’t die for the meals cuz the desserts are to kill for;
Try their apple cobbler or strawberry shortcake,
Or a hot fudge brownie sundae and more –
And a wide selection of drinks with which your thirst to slake.

The menu adds one more folksy must-read addendum:
The “truly forgettable saga” of its namesake’s origin;
To let that out of the bag I wouldn’t dare be so dumb,
So I’ll let you approach that subject as a virgin.
John Covell
Comments are closed.


Google Sponsored Links
Sponsored Links