Sorry for the late posting time this morning. Computer issues. In fact, I hope this attempt to post actually goes through before it crashes again. :)

For today's prompt, I want you to write a travel-related poem. It can be human travel, the migration of swallows, the trafficking of drugs, etc. Some sort of movement from point A to point B.

Here's my attempt for the day:

"Should"

Fog fills the valley
so that he can't see
her little village. She
should be making her
way to him, but he
won't know until she
does. He imagines
her determined face,
body bent forward
and legs still moving.
Just then, a bird
lifts out of the fog
and on out of sight.

After today's poem, we'll just be a week away from completion! Can you dig it? I don't know if you're the same as I am, but I've found doing this prompts actually encourages me to write more during the month. I've probably written at least 30-40 first draft poems and/or random lines for poems that aren't posted on the blog. It's like each morning's prompt and poem is a jumpstart to thinking for the rest of the day.

For today's prompt, I want you to write a poem of regret. Get creative with this one, but there should be some form of regret either expressed or hinted at (even if ever so slightly). You do NOT have to use the word "regret" in the poem, though it's fine if you do.

Here's my attempt for the day:

"The Stupid Things We Do"

Where to go from here:
Keys locked in the car
with her 2-year-old
strapped in his seat and
crying himself red
with her new cell phone
in center console,
she knows she cannot
enter her house with
out breaking windows
or abandoning
her little baby.

For today's prompt, I want you to write a work-related poem. Work doesn't have to be the main feature of the poem, but I want you to "work" it in somehow. And remember: There are different types of work. Of course, there are the activities that gain you fortune and fame (or not), but then, there's also housework, exercise, volunteering, etc. I'm sure you'll "work" it out.

Here's my attempt for the day:

"Dream job"

In the dream, he can't open his eyes
or his e-mail messages. The dream
dictionary he bought at the thrift
store has no answers; but, in his dream,
he also almost won a prize, which
suggests he'll almost be successful
in his current endeavors. Maybe
more important: Why was he shopping
at a thrift store anyway? He could
blame the economy or the price
of healthcare, but he really enjoys
hunting for discarded treasures--he'd
still haunt these stores even if he won
the lottery. In fact, he would still
work the same job that gives him nightmares,
because these things are the things he loves.

We're now 3 weeks into April! And to celebrate, we get a 2-for-Tuesday prompt. Hurrah!

Here are the two prompts for the day (you only need to choose one, unless you're all about pushing yourself to the limit):

1. Write a haiku. The haiku is not just a form but a genre of poetry. (Click here to read more about the haiku.) People sometimes go into writing a haiku and end up with a senryu or a faux-ku, but it's all good (and all poetry).

2. Write about the haiku. I know there are some poets (in this very group even) who are anti-form. So, I'm giving them the option to write their anti-haiku manifestos. Of course, if you pay attention to this 2nd prompt, it doesn't need to be anti-haiku; your poem could be questioning or even praising the haiku. Or something.

Here's my attempt for the day:

Flower blossoms
covering the car hood;
hidden bird poop.

(Okay, I'm going to try posting this again. Apparently, this blog is anti-villanelle.)

We're now 66.7% of the way through April (after finishing today's poem). Despite crazy technological snafus, I think we're going to make it. Only 10 days to go after today! Yay!

For today's prompt, I want you to write a poem of rebirth. There are many different types of rebirth available, including the changing of the seasons, the beginning of the day, religious or spiritual rebirth, a reconfirmation of good in people, re-learning how to love, etc. So think on it a bit, and create a stellar rebirth poem.

Here's my attempt for the day:

"No one would know"

This countertop was covered
in potato peels, onions, and
celery scraps. Flour, spilled
tomato sauce. Every meal,
a new mess. His movements
are methodical, measurements
precise. He imagines he is
making up for Chemistry 101
when he adds a teaspoon
of oregano and basil. He's
already browned the beef,
set everything to slowly cook
as he scaped away ingredients
left over, washed measuring
spoons and cutting board
now ready for the next meal.

*****

Looking for more poetry information?

• Check out our poetry titles (on sale in the month of April) HERE.
• Read the most recent WritersDigest.com poetry-related articles HERE.
• View several poetic forms HERE.
• See where poetry is happening HERE.

I apologize for the problem some people were having yesterday with posting their poems. I think it is fixed now, because I was just able to successfully leave a comment on Day 18.

Perhaps appropriately, today's prompt is to write an angry poem. That is, a poem about someone or something that gets angry. Could be a person, animal, or even them there angry clouds. As usual, I'm excited to see which unexpected directions y'all take with this prompt.

Here's my attempt for the day:

"Stepson"

He is always angry when he returns
from his father's house. But I can't say why
or if it's just normal from taking turns.
He is always angry when he returns!
After a day, he loses his concerns
and is once again happy. Little guy,
he's always so angry when he returns
from his father's house, though I can't say why.

After today's poem, we'll be 60% of the way through this challenge. Woo-hoo!

For today's prompt, I want you to write a poem with an interaction of some sort. The interaction does NOT have to be between people, though it can. For instance, you could write about the interaction between a bee and a flower; or an owl and a field mouse. Or just write about a traffic cop getting into an argument with a speeder. Just as long as there is some sort of interaction going on.

Here's my attempt for the day:

"Only Gets Worse"

I watch the boys run around
the new playground. Another
father approaches me and
says, "Kids," chuckling to himself.
I don't know how to respond,
so I don't. "Yeah, my little
one--that girl in the green
dress--she's a handful for
sure." I never understand
why some people feel the need
to talk about nothing when
there's nothing to talk about.
He exhales a long sigh,
"Yeah, her mother's a bitch."
He waves gnats away from
his face with his hand. "How
long you been married?" He
apparently hasn't noticed I haven't
been communicating, and he obviously
doesn't care, because he says,
"It only gets worse," and
then adds, "It only gets worse."
He waves away some more gnats,
takes his leave of me, and
makes his way to a single mom
on the other side of the play
area. She watches him approach,
clutches at her purse, and
smiles nervously when he laughs.

Wow! Yesterday was quite a workout. Not only did I go for a hard 5-mile run, but I think we did about a million Easter egg hunts (give or take a few hundred thousand). Anyway, I'm not sure if I'm "feeling it" today, in terms of writing a poem. But that's what makes a challenge a challenge is to get up and write regardless. Doing so puts me in a position to be ready to write when I am "feeling it."

For today's prompt, I want you to write a poem that incorporates a hobby (either yours or someone else's). That's right: Now is the perfect opportunity to write about your comic collection or your scrapbooking activities. And for the purposes of this challenge, I also think activities such as fishing, running, bowling, photography, birding, and gardening count as hobbies.

Here's my attempt for the day:

"We wake up in the morning"

while the grass is still wet with dew,
and we all launch our drivers--
some ending up on the fairway,
others in the rough. Then, we pick
up our discs and throw again
and again. We aim for the chains
we want to rattle. We ramble
on about near misses and how we're
kicking butt or getting our butts kicked.
Eventually, we finish the first course

and drive on to the next. By now,
the morning is warming, and we're
hitting our targets. Eagle, Stingray,
Beast, Aviar--our brightly colored
discs fly through the air. Some of us
under par; others over. Finally, we stop
for lunch. We talk about the day, how
we need to do this more often. Then,

we drive on to the next course. Repeat
the cycle. And then the next course. And
finally, we get to the fifth and final
challenge of the day. We line up behind
the tee pad as the sun slants westward.
We squint, wind up, and let our discs fly.
Some of us wear out during this last course--
our discs not traveling as far, not hitting
their marks. But there's always one
who digs deeper, though just as tired,
and drives from basket to basket, trying
hard as possible to beat the evening.

Yay! We're 40% of the way through the challenge (after finishing today's poem). That's right! We're almost to the half-way point. Woo-hoo!

For today's prompt, I want you to take the phrase "So we decided to (blank)" and fill in the blank. Make that your title and write a poem. Some possibilities include "So we decided to plant a tree" or "So we decided to burn a hole in the sky."

Here's my attempt for the day:

"So we decided to keep writing"

Only a pen and outdated business cards,
but a Mexican clown (with face paint
and rhinestone vest) sang in Spanish
that made me feel he felt something
universal. Plus, I was waiting on Tammy
to bring back a pineapple smoothie,
so I took notes (red cap, black hair,
tip jar, food court, powdered sugar
all over my table and self). Maybe
I should learn a new language, wear
leather boots and cowboy hats, tint
the windows on my Kia Spectra, and
get Tammy to wear fake gold chains
and hoochie jeans. Maybe we should
check with the Pendergrass Flea Market
palm reader. Or maybe the point of
getting out of the apartment isn't
to change ourselves but to observe
others and write every detail down.

Earlier this year, Tammy and I took Baby Will with us to his first poetry event, a reading by Cherryl Floyd-Miller at Wordsmiths Books in Decatur, Georgia. Sadly, Wordsmiths has since closed, but Cherryl was nice enough to be interviewed for the Poetic Asides blog.

Her most recent collection of poems, Exquisite Heats, was published in 2008 by Salt Publishing. Cherryl is a native of the Carolinas and has published two other poetry collections: Utterance: A Museology of Kin and Chops. In addition to poetry, Cherryl is also a playwright and fiber artist.

Here's a favorite poem of mine from Exquisite Heats:

Voodoo Chicken

Gots me hanker. Gots me squall, peeping tall-Tom
at your lovely, in your throat, and the itch,
hellcat itch, of it rides me like a witch
into the nights, those crafty nights, no calm
will come. You just a mule teeth puppet show.
Stop and go. Chickenhearted to the core,
you say don't cross the line or crack the door.
How sweetmeat, milk. How navy black. How crow.

But love has stayed and love is made, is all
is with, for. We almost did, just about,
said we (nohow) wouldn't (nungh-ungh) fall.
This moot jinx so far in, it's inside out.
We say we won't. But reckon do. Yak. Stall
for if. Wait for good-good. Gut in. Ass out.

*****

What are you up to?

I am helping a friend build a strong healthcare firm, writing lots of persona poems, finding very interesting ways of writing verse plays and verse narrative ... and (ah, yes) -- quilting. I am truly enjoying this "season" of myself.

You live in the U.S., but your publisher for Exquisite Heats is based in the United Kingdom. How did you go about publishing this collection?

I will have to give credit for my publication through Salt ... to Salt. Chris Hamilton-Emery is an amazing and supportive publisher. He takes the risks others won't take, says the things others won't say and publishes other risk-takers others have not seemed to publish. A poet/scholar friend suggested my work; Chris asked for a manuscript; he liked the work; and we evolved to a contract and a collection of poems. I am deeply grateful for the ways in which Salt shows it believes in me and my *voice*. The faith Chris seems to have in me as an intelligent person and an artist is the kind of faith I've found only one other place: the Fulton County Arts Council in Atlanta and its Deputy Director, Val Porter.

In Exquisite Heats, your work incorporates a variety of poetic forms. Could you speak a little on using poetic forms in your writing?

Ah ... poetic forms. They are helpful play things; by that, I mean it has aided my poem-building skills tremendously to be knowledgeable about forms and make conscious decisions about using them in my work. I've found the most gifted and compelling poets to be those who know the rules and deliberately break them in order to keep their own voices intact. At this stage in my own evolution, the use of forms is both conscious and subconscious. Most of the time I know exactly what I've done after I've done it; but I'm at my best when I don't know what I'm doing while I'm doing it. Poetic forms for me are a good musical instrument to ensure this "band" called my body of work can jam as long and hard as it likes. But I'll be a traitor and leave the forms on the side of the stage if the poem instructs me to do so. Forms come often in my work, but I'm not a slave to them. My only allegiance is to the poem.

Do you use critique groups—or a network of other poets—to help with early drafts of poems?

I don't use critique groups as much as I used to about five to eight years ago. I have trusted eyes and ears who can hear new drafts at any time of the day and give me honest feedback. Usually, these are writers who have known me and my work for a long time and have earned my respect and trust. I'm not closed to critique groups, but I am leery of group dynamics and individual dramas that can be a bit distracting to the purpose of gathering: work.

In your bio for Exquisite Heats, it’s mentioned that you’ve received several grants and fellowships for your writing. Any application tips for other poets who may apply for grants or fellowships?

Yes ... apply. It may sound strange to give this as advice, but many people don't even fill out the application and wonder why they can't get grants. Other tips:

1) Be sure you really want it. Don't apply just for the money. Make sure your values align with the org or individual who is awarding the money, and make sure you believe in what the grant asks of you.

2) Apply again, if you don't get an award the first time you apply. Sometimes, missing a grant or fellowship has nothing to do with your talent or your perfect application. It has to do with timing, the number of other talented applicants and whether or not you come across as credible on paper.

3) Do what the grantors ask. This means meet deadlines, do the accompanying essay, and have a solid plan to do what you say you're going to do with the money. Having been both a grant recipient and a grant reviewer, I can truly say, if you're not sincere, it comes through loud and clear that you're not sincere.

Your bio mentions you’re a fiber artist. In what forms of fiber arts do you work?

I am a quilter who uses techniques of collage, crochet, knitting and mixed media formats. I have no formal training in any of this. I learned quilting at my paternal grandmother's feet at age 7. I learned crochet from my maternal grandmother at age 9. I've experimented with everything else enough to be *confident* about what I create. I explore the same themes in fiber art as I do in poetry: women, the South, folklore, sound music in language, myths, non-linear structures and magical realism. Much of the way I approach art is really about not wasting a single thing. Even the words you cut from a poem or the scraps you create when you cut the fabric of a quilt can be used somewhere else.

Who are you currently reading?

Two voices I think many of us have forgotten: Dolores Kendrick and Sherley Anne Williams. I am also reading a variety of modern verse plays because I'm curious about what others are doing with the form.

If you could pass on only one piece of advice for other poets, what would it be?

Write! And then write some more. When you feel like you truly (((can))) *quit* writing, then you should quit ...

*****

To learn more about Cherryl's collection Exquisite Heats and her publisher Salt Publishing, go to www.saltpublishing.com.

*****

Are you a poet or publisher looking for free publicity? Then, check out what you need to do to be considered for a Poetic Asides interview by clicking here.

Sorry for the late post today. I've had family visiting from Ohio the last few days, and they were all leaving this morning. So, you know, us Brewers can take our time saying our good-byes and getting things together and everything. ;)

*****

For today's prompt, I want you write a poem about a memory. The memory can be good or bad. The memory can be a blend of several memories. I suppose it could even be a memory that you're not sure you remember correctly. Take your time finding a good one (or good ones).

Here's my attempt for the day:

"Climbing Stone Mountain"

First, we found the park;
then, we found the parking lot.

Next, we caught the trail;
then, we caught our breath.

She was afraid to look in;
I was afraid to look out.

The wind was cold on top;
the sun was warm at the bottom.

I just finished having a great time on J.P. Dancing Bear's "Out of Our Minds" poetry show on KKUP Cupertina. It was a lot fun--mostly because Bear has a real laid back approach to handling the show.

We discussed the April PAD Challenge, the Poetic Asides blog, Poet's Market, poetry submission worst practices, the importance of poet perseverance, and so much more. Bear was even kind enough to let me read 10 of my poems during the show.

If anyone was able to catch the show, I'd love to hear what you thought.

In the meantime, I'll leave you with this previously unpublished poem, which I read during the show:

Watching Godzilla with my sons and trying to write

The story is written on the cave walls:
Ben asks why humans have so many wars
as Jonah stabs him with a plastic sword.

The make believe is over now: Turn off
the lights and buy insurance for your space
ship. If I had superpowers, I would
not create a Clark Kent identity.
Secrets always lead to super villains.

Jonah stuffs his Batman utility
belt down the back of his pants to become
Godzilla and roars, "I will never die."

If you haven't done so yet, I just wanted to mention that you can sign up for a free monthly newsletter from Poet's Market (edited by yours truly) by going to www.poetsmarket.com and entering your e-mail address in the little field provided for e-mail updates. It's a good way to keep up with what's going on in Poet's Market, as well as this blog, and it's free!

*****

Also, I'm going to be interviewed tonight at 8 p.m. (Pacific) on J.P. Dancing Bear's "Out of Our Minds" poetry program on KKUP Cupertino. We'll be talking poetry and discussing the April PAD Challenge.

*****

For today's prompt, I want you to write a poem about either a specific routine or routines in general. Maybe something related to taking out the trash each week or washing the dishes every night--or something more bizarre (yet still a routine).

Here's my attempt for the day:

"Routine"

Each morning, I wake up and weigh myself,
thinking that a prompt and poem won't come
today. I look at the books on my shelf,
but my brain still feels permanently numb

thinking that a prompt and poem won't come.
I search for poetic forms to assume,
but my brain still feels permanently numb.
It comes down to triolet or pantoum--

this search for poetic forms to assume.
Both offer rhymes and some repetition:
It comes down to triolet or pantoum.
I choose without hope or expectation.

Both offer rhymes and some repetition.
Today, I look at the books on my shelf
and choose without hope or expectation--
each morning, waking up to weigh myself.

After we finish today's poem, we'll be a full week into April. Go us!

Today is our first "Two for Tuesday" prompt of the month. On these days, I offer two prompts. Don't worry: You don't need to write a poem for each prompt (but you're more than welcome to if you feel up to the challenge).

Prompt #1: I want you to write a clean poem. Take this however you wish. Clean language, clean subject matter, or cleaning the dishes. Of course, some twisted few will automatically link "cleaning" with hired hitmen. That's okay, as long as your poem is somehow linked to clean.

Prompt #2: I want you to write a dirty poem. Take all that stuff I wrote in the first prompt and twist it upside down. The opposite of clean is dirty; so, do what ya gotta do to produce a dirty poem. (Gosh, I hope this challenge doesn't get too messy as a result.)

Here's my attempt for the day:

"Mornings"

They always start clean. Two
bodies side-by-side. Arm
draped over hip, voices
whispering about dreams
they did or did not have
the night before. And then,
things always seem to work
out in such a way that
the sheets are on the floor
and both need a shower.

If you want a way to continue the poetry beyond April, WritersOnlineWorkshops.com is now taking registrations for its Fundamentals of Poetry Writing workshop. The online course begins April 23 (registration closes April 30) and will be taught by published writer Joyce Ferman Wells. The course consists of six sessions and costs $350. Plus, those who register receive a Best of Writer's Digest Interviews CD.

If interested, check it out here: http://www.writersonlineworkshops.com/retail/courses.aspx?r=fundamentals-of-poetry-writing.

WritersOnlineWorkshops.com offers online courses throughout the year in poetry, fiction, nonfiction, etc. You can check out the current offerings across all genres by going to www.writersonlineworkshops.com.

All right, folks! After today, we'll be 20% of the way through this challenge! And you're all kicking some major booty, because I think y'all posted as many poems through the first 5 days as we did in all of April last year. Great job, and let's keep at it!

For today's poem, I want you to write a poem about something missing. It can be about an actual physical object or something you just can't put your finger on (like "love" or "the spirit of Christmas" or something).

Here's my attempt for the day:

"The Photographer"

She introduces herself and gathers
the whole party up before and after
the ceremony. She wears a nylon
sleeveless, patterned shirt and black
leggings with a little lace near her
ankles. Her dark brown hair is highlighted
blond and she straightens her back
as one pair after the other walks
down the aisle. Her fingers are covered
in rings, but she isn't married. Instead,
she chews gum and holds her camera
close to her face, ready to brighten
the church with her flash. She doesn't
smile or tear up, her face serious and
clinical. It's not until she's saying
goodbye to the woman in her white
dress that she allows herself to smile.

Whew! I'm tired. Was up until 4-ish this morning (driving home to Georgia from Ohio); tried posting around then; but the site was acting all funky. Now, on 3 hours sleep, I'm hoping my spelling is okay. :)

It's Sunday! Yay! Five days in and still kicking!

For today's prompt, I want you to write a poem about a landmark. It can be a famous landmark (like Mount Rushmore or the Sphinx) or a little more subdued (like the town water tower or an interesting sign).

Here's my attempt for the day:

"Touchdown Jesus"

At first, I laughed—a giant Jesus

with both arms thrust to the sky—

because of its size and only the top

half showed. Also, there was

the location: same exit as two

flea markets, strip club, prison,

and Hustler store. So, why not,

I guess, is the correct question.

Over time, I've grown comfortable

with his consistency. Even awed

when the sun rises behind him

or fog lifts off the water in front.

But still, there are times,

especially when on the phone,

when I can't help driving by

and saying, "Touchdown!"

(To see a picture of my "landmark," go to http://www.roadsideamerica.com/story/9786.)