Written for:  Carpe Diem #1126 – Depend on Yourself

[…] ‘The Jacobean route is marked with yellow pointers, painted all the way across Spain. If you should lose your way at any time, look for the markers – on trees, on stones, and on traffic signs – and you will be able to find a safe place. Try to depend mainly on yourself “. […] (Source: The Pilgrimage by Paulo Coelho)

three people point
out different roads to travel
only you know your own


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Team Chant

Written for:  dVerse Poets, I’ll Say It Again (and Again and Again)
(Posted by Victoria C. Slotto in Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft)

Our team is the best,
it beats all the rest.
High school colors black and red;
they all know we got cred.
Go Team!

Our Team is the best,
practice, practice, we don’t rest.
When we get ball, you know we’ll score.
Give us a hand for points galore.
Go Team!

Our team is the best,
fine players, that’s no jest.
Think you’ve got some brass?
Our school will kick your ass.
Go Team!

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In Session

Written for:  Quickly #20
Write using multiple voices – Write a dialogue or a mob scene—
depends on how long you want to keep it up.

I never seem to have
any self-esteem.

Why do you suppose
that is?

That is why I am here,
to find solutions to my fears.

Do you fear others
are smarter than you? Perhaps
there is a clue in your childhood.

I do not care to discuss my child-
hood, particularly my mother
or brother.

Why do you suppose that is?

I am grown. There are events
that should be left alone.
I want to move ahead.

We must go backwards before
moving forward.

That makes no sense to me.
I merely want to be more

If you do not understand simple
facts at hand, perhaps I am not
your man. Besides, our time is up.

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Written for:  dVerse Poets:  Artisans – Seamus Heaney

The challenge is to write a poem about an artisan or wright, for example a weaver, thatcher, wheelwright or carpenter, or any other craftsman you can think of. It can be a real person, you or someone you know, or a fictional person. All I ask is that you emulate the form and/or style of one of the Heaney poems.


Masons, when they start upon a building,
Are careful to test out the scaffolding;

Make sure that planks won’t slip at busy points,
Secure all ladders, tighten bolted joints.

And yet all this comes down when the job’s done
Showing off walls of sure and solid stone.

So if, my dear, there sometimes seem to be
Old bridges breaking between you and me

Never fear. We may let the scaffolds fall
Confident that we have built our wall.

                        ~Seamus Heaney

Cartoonist creates caricature swiftly,
a few bold strokes drawn thickly.

Watch him at his easel now
easily capturing smile or frown.

Who is he lampooning? a singer or a movie star?
I see an enormous teardrop, and beating heart so far.

No one poses in front of him, waiting.
Can it be himself,  sad clown, self-hating?

Poetics: Artisans

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An Aubade

Written for Quickly #19

Write an aubade.

Okay, speaking formally (and here we have the wiki explanation), an aubade is a morning love song (as opposed to a serenade, which is in the evening), or a song or poem about lovers separating at dawn.[1] It has also been defined as “a song or instrumental composition concerning, accompanying, or evoking daybreak”.[2]

In vain she tries to hide her tears.
He looks toward heaven for light changes.
She knows their love is true, but fears
he may not return, there are grave dangers.

She wonders at a world that never ceases
creating wars, and weapons so deadly.
Will he come home in broken pieces?
He prays she waits unlike so many

other girls who send ‘Dear Johns’.
They look into each other’s eyes,
see moon’s outline in the sky.
Time is short until the dawn.

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Written for:  Poets United Midweek Motif~Unity
Bring diverse or disparate entities into unity.

“We are each other’s harvest; we are each other’s business;
we are each other’s magnitude and bond.”
― Gwendolyn Brooks


“Unity” Sculpture at Federal Building & U.S. Courthouse Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

If a group of ethnically diverse musicians
is not in sync, sounds assault the ears.

If you fill a plate with only sliced
chicken, and mashed potatoes, 
there is no diversity of color, dulls

If every wall and accent piece
in a room is beige–a stage
for sleep–what catches the eye?

Without variety in music, food, art,
and people, our knowledge of cultures
would shrink. We would be poorer for it.

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Time Tricks

Written for:  Carpe Diem #1124, Time

[…] ‘It’s going to be worse that way,’ he said, ‘because time isn’t something that always proceeds at the same pace. It is we who determine how quickly time passes.” […] (source: The Pilgrimage by Paulo Coelho)

Walk for twenty minutes at half the speed at which you normally walk. Pay attention to the details, people, and surroundings. The best time to do this is after lunch.

time is slow
when a child waits for summer
moments speed with age

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Written for Quickly #18 – Whole Cloth
Begin with a lie.
At some point mention a specific date.
Include one small animal and one large one (names will suffice).
Before you finish, correct the lie in such a way that there’s doubt as to which version is true.
Appeal to two of the senses.

I love camping out,
toasting marshmallows,
crackling fires,
and night bird tunes.
Good getaway from hoopla
of July Fourth. How
my dogs shake.  To them
firecrackers are earthquakes.
My old cat sat in a kitchen
window, in hot or cold
weather, never cared
about noise. I hear
there are bears that wander
into campgrounds, and steal
food in pitch blackness.
My sister and me are still
terrified of the dark. We
both sleep with lights on.

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This Poem Is A Drifter

Written for:  Poetic Asides #380 

For today’s prompt, write a nothing better poem. Now, there are at least a couple ways to take this, but probably more. First, the poem could be about a moment that’s so amazing that nothing could ever be better–kind of like a high moment poem. But taking the same prompt, someone could spin it the complete other way as a “nothing will ever be better again” poem.

This poem has nothing better
to do, than drift through
your mind, stopping along
the way for an ice cream
cone, or a slice
of pizza. If you are reading
this poem, you might be feeling
hungry or thirsty. Dealing
with your urges–whether splurges
on goodies, or stolen peeks
at the moon–is vital to
becoming acquainted with
yourself. This poem wants
you to be happy.

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Written for:  Carpe Diem #1123 the road is our teacher
(on the road to Santiago de Compostela)

parched from walking
look further down road,  and spot
water puddled on leaves.
Is it fate that I looked ahead
instead of turning back?

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