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Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 246

Categories: Poetry Prompts, Robert Lee Brewer's Poetic Asides Blog, What's New.

Another Wednesday, another poetry prompt. Yay! But before we get to the prompt, I just wanted to share that a few of my poems have been published in the most recent issue of Poets|Artists (along with a poem by my wife Tammy and Poetic Asides regular Laurie Kolp). Click here to check out the issue in PDF format for free. If you like; you have the option to buy a print copy too! Or get the interactive edition.

For today’s prompt, write a someday poem. By someday poem, I mean that you should write a poem about someday in the future. However, I’m always more than open to poets taking the prompt in any direction they wish.

Here’s my attempt at a someday poem:


After the shot, he stood up, brushed off some grass, and walked away unnoticed.
He went first to his house to kiss his mother goodnight.
She turned in her bed.
He took a last look around his room, then left.
The rain washed the blood from his hoodie.
He thought briefly about the things he would never accomplish.
He thought harder about what he’d already done, the things he couldn’t take back.
It’s important to note he felt no anger.
Then, he walked toward the light.


Publish your poetry!

Click here to start finding homes for your poems.



Robert Lee Brewer

Robert Lee Brewer

Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He did not win the Mega Millions jackpot last night. Robert is married to the poet Tammy Foster Brewer, who helps him keep track of their five little poets. When he’s not reading or writing, Robert enjoys getting outside and doing stuff, whether it’s just going for a walk or playing football. Follow him on Twitter @robertleebrewer.


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About Robert Lee Brewer

Senior Content Editor, Writer's Digest Community.

139 Responses to Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 246

  1. veronica_gurlie says:

    I promise you– someday,
    will be together again,
    We will float run-away poems down our streams of tears,
    and sore with our souls wide open.
    We will escape in fat bubbles of large laughter
    and noses will be straight and to the point.
    Our tongues will write songs on one another
    and our feet will have spirit and our eyes will have sparks.
    We will not worry about, how far we have gotten,
    if we have been apart to long.
    if I have desired you, if I have enjoyed you, in way,
    I never should have.

    • veronica_gurlie says:

      REWRITE. My copy and paste did not work.

      I promise you– someday,
      will be together again,
      We will float runaway poems down our streams of tears,
      and sore with our souls wide open.
      We will escape in fat bubbles of large laughter
      and our noses will be straight and to the point.
      Our tongues will write songs on one another
      and our feet will have spirit and our eyes will have sparks.
      We will not worry about, how far we have gotten,
      if we have been apart to long,
      if I have desire you, if I have enjoyed you, in way,
      I never should have.

      • veronica_gurlie says:


        I promise you– someday,
        will be together again,
        We will float runaway poems down our streams of tears,
        and sore with our souls wide open.
        We will escape in fat bubbles of large laughter
        and our noses will be straight and to the point.
        Our tongues will write songs on one another
        and our feet will have spirit and our eyes will have sparks.
        We will not worry about wrinkles,
        or how long we have been apart,
        or I have desired you, if I have enjoyed you,
        in a way, I never should have.

        • veronica_gurlie says:

          I copy and paste but it is not taking the new paste.
          trying this again.

          I promise you– someday,
          will be together again,
          We will float runaway poems down our streams of tears,
          and sore with our souls wide open.
          We will escape in fat bubbles of large laughter
          and our noses will be straight and to the point.
          Our tongues will write songs on one another
          and our feet will have spirit and our eyes will have sparks.
          We will not worry about wrinkles,
          or how long we have been apart,
          or if I I have desired you, if I have enjoyed you, in a way,
          I never should have.

  2. PromptPrincess13 says:


    Someday I’ll be that version of me,
    I only see when I dream,

    My name will be in lights,
    Laughs illuminating the nights,

    I’ll fit into a world of art,
    The one I live in, in my heart,

    Someday I’ll be on the stage,
    Outside of here, this awful cage,

    Someday, I’ll find my way to the place where I can be me,
    And stand tall for all to see,
    No misfit any longer,
    Instead, a beautiful song-bird,
    Talents free to do as they please,
    And moments wonderful to freeze,

    Someday, I’ll find my way to the place for which I long,
    Someday, I’ll find my way home.

    • bjzeimer says:

      I read your poem Christmas morning. Thank you for this. You are a good writer and someday you will realize your dream. Merry Christmas!

      • PromptPrincess13 says:

        Thanks for the kind words! Hope you had a merry Christmas and have a Happy New Year! I read your poem and with the craziness of the holidays I didn’t get the chance to reply, but I really loved it.

  3. Clae says:

    Some Other Someday

    Someday, I declare,
    I will make it there.
    Never mind what I mean-
    Never mind where.

    Someday, I suggest,
    I will be the best.
    Never mind best at what-
    Ignore the rest.

    Someday, I proclaim,
    I will have a name.
    Never mind what it spells-
    It sounds the same.

  4. PressOn says:


    Although they may crest in September,
    they start to decline in November.
    With lights and fake trees
    I invite them back, please,
    but somedays don’t fly in December.

  5. Bruce Niedt says:

    Someday We’ll Look Back on This and Laugh

    But why wait?
    Why not let out a little chuckle now,
    or better yet, a full-blown guffaw.
    It might ease the pain of the moment,
    the anger, the embarrassment
    of the thing lying bare-faced before you.
    Giggle a bit while you clean up the mess,
    snicker while you write an apology,
    chortle at the irony of the whole scenario.
    Laugh to keep from crying, if you must,
    but give it some of the levity now
    that you so often save for the future
    when you tell the story again with a smile.

  6. notsleepyyet says:

    Oh, cautious ballet dancer and incessant hope for beauty,
    your wish for love, esteem, the like, and other worldly envy.

    Someday, I’ll have the fame…
    One day, I’ll have the money…”
    Telling story after story
    After drink, or two, or three.
    “Oh, I’ll start tomorrow- we’ll drain away the pain!”

    moving over
    treading over
    ocean floor ashes,
    moon rock canyons,
    love potion miracles.

    But regret’s dark eye holes
    gleam in the direction
    of your distant eyes
    and blinded journey with delight.

    Please don’t let him have it:
    your ivory grand jeté.
    Someday is in this moment,
    Someday is for today;
    Regret is the shallowest of friends
    and is not allowed
    to stay.

  7. notsleepyyet says:

    Someday, I’ll have time to…
    One day, I’ll have money to…
    I’ll start tomorrow-
    Let’s go out with a Bang!
    Moving on to
    Treading over
    Ocean floor ashes
    Moon rock canyons
    Love potion miracles
    Skull dark eye holes
    Someday is now
    Someday is today
    Regret is a shallow friend
    Set yourself up

  8. Sara McNulty says:

    Balloons Floating Freely

    I see heartbreak

    taking the shape of dementia,

    Alzheimer’s and loneliness

    of family and friends. I have

    no seer at my side to warn

    me of what may come,

    or when. Little colored balloons

    with neat lettering fill fields

    of vision. Which color, what letter

    are meant for me?

  9. annell says:

    Lost in a Heartbeat
    The world
    Your world
    Can be lost
    In a heart beat

    The mind confused
    Running as fast as it can
    From this to that
    The unthinkable happens
    A place too dark to go
    Too dark to think about
    A place of fear
    The world
    Your world
    In a heartbeat

    Hard to believe
    Try to set things right
    Look for answers
    In all the hiding places
    The world
    Your world
    In a heartbeat

    The longest moment
    Time stops
    Breath stops
    Thought stops
    You don’t remember
    The last heartbeat
    In which
    Your world

    In an instant
    Your heart turns
    To stone
    You are lost
    But you cannot
    Give up
    No place to go

    The world
    Your world
    In a heartbeat

    Found Poem: Small Wonder Barbara Kingsolver

  10. bjzeimer says:


    When Christmas comes home,
    it will light a fir tree
    in front of the stairway,
    trim the banister
    with garlands of evergreen
    and tufts of holly.
    It will cause presents
    to place beneath its boughs,
    my girl to making name tags
    and bow ribbons,
    her young brother standing shy.
    There’s baked ham,
    Amish potato salad, and chips,
    ice cold punch–
    tubs of Velvet orange sherbet
    stirred into Sunkist soda–
    tins of homemade cookies
    to send home–
    cinnamon oatmeal raisin,
    chocolate chip,
    and white cookies made
    with black walnuts
    gathered from the back yard.
    There’s my boy coming
    in from the construction site
    covered with mud,
    his family close behind him,
    another’s wedding band
    still bright shining,
    my husband putting
    batteries in the children’s toys,
    Mommy watching
    the movie my oldest boy
    brought–Joseph and Mary
    and baby Jesus,
    and the Christmas that’s coming home

  11. priyajane says:

    Some Day
    Sometimes, those ‘some days’-
    that float beyond the horizon
    come to visit
    I gaze longingly, as they sparkle
    on the crusted waves
    And sprawl with them awhile
    make love, without touching
    Then, I blow them kisses
    with the ebbing tide
    As I drift back to reality

    They always come to visit
    but never stay long enough
    Someday, maybe they will—

  12. writinglife16 says:


    The sun rose.
    Would this be the day?
    The ticket she held.
    Was it the boarding pass
    to a new life?
    Somewhere beyond someday

  13. JWLaviguer says:

    Clearly, Not

    The lines on his face
    remind him of forgotten somedays
    tossed into the bottom of a closet

    He pulls them out and dusts them off
    yet they slip between the years
    the shattered promises cut deep

    Picking up the pieces of his broken life
    trying to put them back together
    with sawdust and chewing gum

    Cracks in the mirror hide his wrinkles
    if he tilts his mind the right way
    Life is behind him out of focus.

    JW Laviguer

  14. JWLaviguer says:

    Hard Copy Memories

    I sent the film out yesterday
    still hold onto the past
    with digital cameras I don’t play
    they sometimes never last

    Immediate feedback the people need
    today’s tech makes me feel dumb
    but that line in the fairy tale I still heed:
    Someday, my prints will come.

    JW Laviguer

  15. dford says:

    Someday, I promise!

    Someday, I’ll stand before you, with an open heart and reveal the things I’ve never had the opportunity to mention, There will be no interruption. The words will simply flow. I will no longer feel the need to perfectly convey all of my heart, clinging tightly to my words, in fear of rejection. Nor, will I continually seek your approval, at the cost of self-acceptance.

    The wait is over. It’ll happen……someday!

  16. Marie Elena says:

    But, For Now…

    We interviewed in cyberspace,
    And though it is a spacious place,
    The coffee’s tasteless. Point in case –
    I’d rather chitchat face-to-face.

    HOWEVER, we did have some serious fun! If you get a minute during this busy season, come check out Walt’s and my interview at Poetic Bloomngs: http://poeticbloomings.com/2013/12/19/poet-interview-walter-wojtanik/

  17. PressOn says:


    Someday, somehow,
    I’ll swing the bat and will connect
    someday. Somehow,
    if this should be my final vow,
    my batting average will reflect
    that pitchers should be circumspect.
    Some day. Somehow.

  18. Misky says:


    Each day it broke
    a bit, shed like leaves
    in hollow wind.
    Each day it hurt
    a bit, like twisting
    trust from wringing hands.
    But one day it will,
    someday it shall,
    this fractured heart
    will find its broken self.

  19. De Jackson says:

    Sum Day

    Count those blessings,
    add ’em up,
    share your overflowing

    Hold the one
    and carry your heart,
    something borrowed
    from the start.

    Reckon them slowly;
    here’s a plus:
    You may just find
    today’s enough.


  20. De Jackson says:

    Limbo Prayer

    Please hold
      while I hold
              my breath
                wait for what
                     is next.


  21. Michelle Hed says:

    seasons crumble
    moving becomes a challenge
    a dying sun

  22. Julieann says:


    Someday is like tomorrow
    It never seems to get here
    We have our yesterdays
    And our today – but no someday
    So make the most of today
    So that you can look back at yesterday
    And see what has taken place
    And build upon it – for someday

  23. Sometime

    Yes, everybody’s gotta learn sometime
    The kindergarten basics of friendship
    To share, to care, to reason and to rhyme
    To sweetly solve problems, to get a grip

    Yes everybody’s gotta learn sometime
    We are temporary people on earth
    Taking a downhill slide after the climb
    And then inevitable second birth

    So let’s enjoy the moments while we can
    Till that sometime, when we shed the old man

  24. laurie kolp says:

    Thanks for mentioning me, Robert. I’m truly honored!


    I’ll reach for your hand
    only to find I’m grasping

    air like a mime artist–
    solemn, yet dramatic as

    I frantically search
    for a crooked finger or

    gnarled knuckle, just
    one more chance to cup

    your memory, a gasp
    of breath you someday

    won’t be able to breathe
    on your own anymore.

  25. PowerUnit says:

    I will get there
    I will do it
    As I dreamed
    I will walk in shoes
    Nobody has worn
    I will become a man

  26. Jane Shlensky says:

    Above All

    Flat on our backs, our heads together,
    our bodies made an asterisk,
    our feet beaming outward
    mimicking the stars above us.

    We fought a lot as kids,
    complained and pranked,
    but we worked side by side
    and sang and talked,

    not giving anyone our closest hopes,
    not sharing what could hurt
    in future fights. We guarded
    longings, held them like a bird

    cradled in a cupped palm
    waiting for flight.
    But lying under starlight,
    floating free,

    we let our somedays rise
    into deep skies
    and what was heard
    was sacred, like a prayer.

  27. NoBlock says:

    This world is dark, yet noisy
    I swim in the warmth that surrounds me

    Today I discovered myself
    Whatever myself is

    My lungs do not know air
    Yet my future on Earth is bright

    There are kind people who pray for me
    They can not wait to meet me

    I await patiently in this womb
    My birthday will come soon

  28. priyajane says:

    My Someday Song

    Youth spent chasing ‘some days’
    in a breathless dream catcher
    which, then became distant stars
    But e’en though they slipped out of reach
    and the wrinkled ground
    is sparkling, good enough
    to light my smile
    I still, sing my someday song
    like a whispered prayer
    under my breath
    Into the flowing breeze

  29. JRSimmang says:


    If we find
    would you
    sit and listen to
    its stories,
    or would you
    act the part
    of child,
    wary of stranger hands
    and eyes,
    and cry at
    the sunset
    because the
    light starts to fade
    and when
    you feel the spin
    of the world, it
    stirs something
    deep inside you…?

    It’ll be some time now.
    It’ll be the greys and blues
    and blacks.
    Until then, speak with me
    and let’s play 20 questions.
    Tell me what
    you’d ask
    when we finally find eternity.

    I know you’ve seen it before.
    I can tell by the
    loss of colors in your eyes.
    I can tell in the
    moment before you
    breathe back in,
    running from your dreams.

    Careless and when, I am.
    Put me back inside you.
    Push me down into
    the wonder
    and let
    me someday
    taste the same
    air that surrounds your
    child-like laughter.

    -JR Simmang

  30. Domino says:

    Someday Soon
    my dragon’s hoard of
    cookies, candies, cakes,
    and pies will be parceled up to go to
    various friends with
    best wishes.

    Someday soon
    I expect a visit from my
    Army son, just in time for
    a few days of fun; feeding him up
    as if he were supping for the whole Army
    and letting him sleep late
    every day.

    Someday soon
    I’ll find the time to
    get those cards out the door
    once more, to let those who care
    know we haven’t fallen off
    the planet

    Someday soon
    I’ll stop daydreaming
    about when my children
    were still small and weren’t
    scattered like dandelion seeds
    flying free in a puff
    of wind.

  31. And, from my new book, What the Wind Says (www.lummoxpress.com):

    for Cody, 1996

    Someday, this route that’s not a trail—
    a slip-through-thicket
    like a thought through tangles—

    someday I’ll remember how we made
    it out the other side, grateful
    for a clear view over meadow, and

    far below, the trail leading back
    to road-head, highway, home.
    I’ll be grateful for this hard hike above

    timberline, higher than you’ve ever
    been in your short life; how
    you learn to keep up with the big dogs,

    pushing through willow thicket,
    then lying in a seep of snowmelt while we
    consult, again, the contour map.

    Years from now, I’ll remember this lost
    adventure like a solace. The long
    drive home; your puppy head in my lap.


    New kitten in the house.
    Young dog Loki, who’s never known
    a cat, pursues him couch to table.
    What does this strange black crook-tail
    creature smell like? Blink offers
    his opposite end, armed with claws.
    Swift swat against Loki-nose.
    Dog dashes to us for comfort, buries
    her head in couch-cushions.
    Looks up. Blink’s still there,
    lying at regal ease on the carpet.
    Loki stands above him in dominant
    position. But who’s in charge
    here? She stares, Blink ignores.
    Loki bows down on her elbows
    before him – play posture –
    then lowers herself, head on floor, tip
    of nose just out of claw-reach.
    Someday they’ll learn
    how to romp together. Someday
    they’ll be inseparable friends. I wish
    it were today.

  33. Again Someday

    We make the best plans
    flat on our backs,
    cotton against flannel, dreaming
    of the nights, so many without
    moons, when we stole the Lotus Elan.
    We needed joy-rides or something
    to pray about later, the first backbone chassis
    to steady our own inelegant souls,
    if we ever believed in them, and the
    way a dark city makes so many
    broken promises feel like purity.

    We sat hip-to-hip, my hand on your
    knee and one of yours on that
    grand wheel, and we never waved
    the others in the wind because our own
    bodies caught the air like echoing chambers.
    It never mattered which roads we chose
    or that we could have gotten caught,
    only that we wanted to feel big and invisible
    in a car neither of us would ever own,
    in an age neither of us could ever forget.

    Now on a threadbare bed we throw
    our whispers against water-stained
    walls. Our youth hangs like hooks
    on the curves of our own sibilance,
    already fading into an indiscriminate
    string of empty evenings full
    of looking back on what we were —
    just bad kids with big dreams or
    lovers who wanted to escape the
    inscrutable squalor of stillness.
    We’re each waiting for what we
    hope one of us will say again someday:

    You find the keys, baby,
    and I’ll start the car.

  34. Earl Parsons says:


    It was the end of the month
    All totals had to be totaled
    All accounts had to be accounted for
    All transactions finalized
    All books balanced to the penny

    It was the end of the month
    Otherwise known as
    Sum day

  35. Earl Parsons says:


    Somewhere down the road
    My last day
    Will precede the coming of
    The first day
    Of an eternity of

  36. bkwasnik says:


    Young girl, full of ambition,
    and a mind of wild dreams.

    “Someday, I will be a ballerina,”
    she said to her mother.

    Her mother smiled,
    and said as long as she believed,
    she could do whatever she pleased.

    “Someday, I will be president,”
    she laughed and said to her mother.

    The mother hugged her daughter tightly,
    and said as long as she believed,
    she could do whatever she pleased.

    “Mom,” the young girl said,
    “Someday I will change the world.”

    Her mother smiled, and repeated,
    honey, as long as you believe
    you can do whatever you please.

  37. elishevasmom says:

    As it turns out, I was able to write a two-fer: a somedays poem for here, and a sonnetina tre over at Poetic Bloomings. :D

    What If?

    If you scoop up all your somedays
    and clasp them in your hands,
    they often become no-ways
    slipping through like shifting sands.

    But with much dedication
    you may see that they become
    built on a strong foundation,
    more than all the parts, a sum.

    Not the lint you’d find hiding in your pocket.
    Rather, something worthy of hanging in a locket.

    Ellen Evans 12.18.13
    a “someday” poem for PA
    a sonnetina tre for PB

  38. JWLaviguer says:

    Someday Promises

    Someday never came for her
    cobwebs on the wedding dress
    veiled dreams and wishes.

    JW Laviguer

  39. I am compelled to write this poem since as I read the prompt, Stevie Wonder’s “Someday At Christmas” began playing on my radio.


    Someday at Christmas,
    there will be an outbreak of peace.
    Many lives will be spared
    and things broken and blown up
    will be kept to a minimum.

    Someday at Christmas,
    there will be a mad dash to procure
    the one gift everyone could use for sure.
    Love will be the thing oft given to all
    living souls; the right size/shape/color, always regifted.

    Someday at Christmas,
    the season will follow a good and proper
    Thanksgiving Day, and won’t begin
    in October. The influx of Christmas cheer
    will begin here <3 !

    Someday at Christmas,
    all loved ones will remain to celebrate,
    no bad fate will befall all who believe.
    No one will grieve at Christmas,
    And hope will spring in this in all ways.

    Someday at Christmas,
    peace and love will flourish.
    It will nourish our hearts and bring us
    back to home and hearth; a great start.
    Someday at Christmas!

  40. barbara_y says:

    I’ve got somedays on the bookshelf,
    somedays on the floor;
    every day more somedays–
    some days, many more.
    In the kitchen somedays,
    and underneath the bed
    Some day I’ll trade my somedays in,
    try yesterdays instead.

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