When I Was – Poetry Prompt

Sometimes a piece of music touches us and inspires us in amazing ways, and while sometimes we let you find your own music to inspire you, today I have chosen a piece for you.

Lukas Graham’s song, 7 Years, travels through one man’s life and through an unknown future. I love the way he marks the passage of time with certain ages and specific things that were said to him at that age:

Once I was eleven years old my daddy told me
Go get yourself a wife or you’ll be lonely
Once I was eleven years old

I will post the lyrics and video below for those that haven’t heard the song yet. I want you to let this inspire you. Think to a specific age, to your thoughts and hopes and aspirations as that age, to the advice given you then. Write about it.

Remember you have until Friday to submit your entry by either leaving it in the comment section below or linking back to this post. All entries will be considered for the second edition of the anthology.

Anthology submissions are open. Please submit here.

Write for Us submissions are also open. You can submit here for that.

7 Years by Lukas Graham

Once I was seven years old my momma told me
Go make yourself some friends or you’ll be lonely
Once I was seven years old

It was a big big world, but we thought we were bigger
Pushing each other to the limits, we were learning quicker
By eleven smoking herb and drinking burning liquor
Never rich so we were out to make that steady figure

Once I was eleven years old my daddy told me
Go get yourself a wife or you’ll be lonely
Once I was eleven years old

I always had that dream like my daddy before me
So I started writing songs, I started writing stories
Something about that glory just always seemed to bore me
‘Cause only those I really love will ever really know me

Once I was 20 years old, my story got told
Before the morning sun, when life was lonely
Once I was 20 years old

I only see my goals, I don’t believe in failure
‘Cause I know the smallest voices, they can make it major
I got my boys with me at least those in favor
And if we don’t meet before I leave, I hope I’ll see you later

Once I was 20 years old, my story got told
I was writing about everything, I saw before me
Once I was 20 years old
Soon we’ll be 30 years old, our songs have been sold
We’ve traveled around the world and we’re still roaming
Soon we’ll be 30 years old

I’m still learning about life
My woman brought children for me
So I can sing them all my songs
And I can tell them stories
Most of my boys are with me
Some are still out seeking glory
And some I had to leave behind
My brother I’m still sorry

Soon I’ll be 60 years old, my daddy got 61
Remember life and then your life becomes a better one
I made a man so happy when I wrote a letter once
I hope my children come and visit, once or twice a month

Soon I’ll be 60 years old, will I think the world is cold
Or will I have a lot of children who can warm me
Soon I’ll be 60 years old
Soon I’ll be 60 years old, will I think the world is cold
Or will I have a lot of children who can warm me
Soon I’ll be 60 years old

Once I was seven years old, momma told me
Go make yourself some friends or you’ll be lonely
Once I was seven years old

Once I was seven years old

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Wake Up a Woman Wordle

It’s time to play with another poet’s words…mine! I took words from my first book, Wake Up a WomanI hope you enjoy them and find them inspiring!

wordle5

Here are your words:

static
woman
kindling
embracing
banister
vain
clasp
curtains
gunshot
stubborn
relative
ruins
sprung

And have you considered submitting to our Write for Us segment? We’d love to feature your work here on The Reverie! Click here for more information…

Good luck and have fun!

Remember, all entries must be linked back to this post with a pingback or by commenting.

Hotel Amerika | Publishing Opportunity

The Spring tends to be the height of submissions season. It is a time to polish up those pieces and figure out exactly where you should send them for potential publication. While we hope you’ll consider us, we want to share other opportunities as well.

Hotel Amerika will be accepting submissions until May 1st! They are looking for exceptional poetry, fiction, and nonfiction.

Please view their submission guidelines here.

Contact: David Lazar, Editor

E-Mail: editors@hotelamerika.net

Website: http://www.hotelamerika.net/


 

Publishing Opportunities are compiled from information gathered in the 2015 Poet’s Market.

Shaping of an Angry Black Woman Wordle

It’s time for a new wordle! This week, I’ve taken words from one of our editor’s books, The Shaping of an Angry Black Woman  by Tamara Woods. There is no set amount of words you have to use, and you can use any form of the word listed below (plural, past tense, etc.)

wordle4

Here are you words:

drippings
splinters
fickle
barcode
articulate
quivering
accusing
lipstick
DNA
jail
witches
kiss
mimicry

To check out Tamara Woods’ book, click here!

Good luck and have fun!

Remember, all entries must be linked back to this post with a pingback or by commenting.

Cactus – Poetry Book Spotlight

Sometimes we stumble across fantastic new poetry books that we just can’t help but share. If you have  a book you’d like to share with out readers, please contact us here.


Marianne is a UK based writer, journalist, and poet with an MA in Film Studies. Cactus is her debut poetry collection containing 39 original poems, many of which are previously unpublished. The book opens with a short personal essay on the author’s relationship to place. The poems focus on themes of place and home and is split across three sections: Leicester, Brighton, and California. untitled
 
You can buy it here:
 
Kindle
Blurb
Amazon UKUSA (available on others if you search)
Bigcartel (directly from me, with a note)
and the Goodreads page


And find Marianne at www.februarystationery.com and twitter.com/marianne_eloise 

 

Where Would You Go? | Prompt

We just got our first snow of the season here and our skies are gray and overcast. It’s depressing weather. I’m not a fan of the cold.

So to combat that, let’s take this week’s prompt on a little vacation:

Write about a place you wish you could visit.

Any where. Any time.

Where would you go if you could go right now?

Have fun and link back to this post or leave your post in the comments. All prompt entries will be considered for this year’s magazine.

Ouija by Vlad Teodor Pectu

Yesterday’s voting results are in, so let’s give a big congratulations to Vlad Teodor Petcu and his poem, Ouija. You can find the original here, on his blog.

Thank you to all the poets who joined in with the prompt this week. There will be a new prompt on Monday, and remember, regardless of how we pick a winner, all entries are considered for the upcoming issue of the magazine.


Ouija

A voice from the shadows fills the air
It freights the heart and puts rational mind to despair
Her words come blunt, truthfully and weighty
Heed the sapience even when is naughty

Graphics and symbols engraved
On paths shady enlightened
By magic of the fallen paved
With gates and keepers darkened

A band of spirits the deed enact
So the mortals can contact
The undead and the departed
The unknown….and the retarded

God and Satan are debating
If it’s the echo of a forgery
But we find them guns calibrating
When the naked truth reveals its mystery

Science and religion are antiques
When developing new techniques
Thru mists and witchcraft you are reborn
By the gracious god’s quill and his sinning thorn

Fathom everything with grace
While you seek the god
No mask can hide your taint
But for getting his embrace
Enthrall the perky muse on the forsaken rod
To rotten the new aphrodisiac saint

There is the foulest of decisions
When waste becomes from diamonds and gold
The corpse of the quill carries obsessions
Everyone will greedy taste
Panting hard and deep losing their chaste
As you, with last breath, to him thy soul you’ve sold

Your body is a vestige of a primal
Hymn of tears, death, and blood
Into a ravishing juice melting grotesque
Of delirious ambrosia and acidic nectar
When is caressed and bitten feral
Bones are cleaned to the thrill an exotic mood
Offered on the boiled altar
Horny-skinned token of unholy picturesque