So far this year, here’s the posts that have been written for the prompts. I’ll be gathering more as we move on in the year, so by the end of the year we’ll have an interesting digest of where we’ve been. This is totally separate from the magazine and anthology. It’s just an extra thing for fun.
Alright, moving along…
On Friday, 1000 Voices for Compassion will be doing another roundup of posts on these internets. I thought it would be wonderful, if we’d write poetry about the main topic–which is “Building from Bullying.” But instead of just writing about a horribly hurtful bullying episode, let’s find compassion in the story-whether for the victim, the bully or both. Let the poem tell us more than we would expect. This does not have to be an instance of childhood bullying. It unfortunately happens at all ages.
Make sure to either backlink to the page or post it in the comments. Check out what each is doing and share! Let’s build this community. All links will be added to this year’s digest.
You know how sometimes you get a song stuck in your head? I kept hearing the lyrics from this 90s song that I haven’t listened to since the 90s. It’s only driving me a little nuts. It’s all about the he said, she said bullsh*t.
And so this week’s challenge was born.
Write a poem where there’s a conflict between two entities. It doesn’t have to be a man v/s a woman. You’re the writer. Make it interesting. Make it fun. And show that conflict.
This weekend we’re celebrating one of those holidays people either love, or love to hate.
But in the spirit of love and romance and all those ooey-gooey feelings, I want you to write a love poem.
It’s not going to be that easy.
I want to challenge you to write a love poem from someone who loves you’s perspective. Did you catch that? That means a husband, girlfriend, partner, mother, grandfather, child, best friend, whoever you have in this world that loves you…You are going to write a love poem…to yourself…as if it were written by them.
Sound difficult? It is. It’s never easy to put yourself into someone else’s voice and try to write from their standpoint.
It’s even harder to write love poetry about yourself.
At first the idea was to do something about the weather, but given what the East Coast is possibly facing, maybe something entirely different is more apropos.
Above you have a mystery man. Who is he? He is anyone you want him to be. The only caveat is: he’s got to be a little…well…different. Interesting. It’s your choice in what makes him so unusual. Spin me a story about the faceless man.
Here’s a list of words to get you in the mood. Use three of these, if you please:
As with last week, I’ll be tweeting your poetry and sharing among social media sites. If you have any writerly friends who are looking for a prompt, send them my way. There’s no voting, but there is plenty of sharing and support. Let’s grow this community together.
Today in the U.S. is Martin Luther King Jr. Day. This and the movie Selma had me thinking about the Civil Rights movement and The 1960s. It’s interesting to look back at the past with a discerning eye, thinking about changes, what could have been, what might have been and what did happen. That’s what this prompt will be all about.
This week’s prompt is about taking a snapshot of an event of a bygone era or decade. Write a poem about an event in history (whether historically accurate or fictitious) from the viewpoint of a spectator. It does not have to be about a social justice issue, but something that tells us something about the time period. Example: If you were looking at England in the 1700s, maybe write about the day of a young boy who is a chimney sweep. The viewpoint could be another little boy living in the house getting its chimney cleaning.
Remember, we’re not voting on Fridays anymore, but we do have the linky so we can share our poetry. Please join in, link up your work, read others in the community. This site is meant to form a community of like-minded individuals, and so we should be here to support one another.
On this very land, in future’s time of afar,
When three moons rise and entomb every star,
There is a legend that will be told
With gory voice, as the land embraces the eternal cold:
On the paths of corpses, at one and any crossroad is lit
A candle with darkness around which all undead could orbit,
And they will all be led by the alluring shade of Akasha, the goddess,
In lights torn by twisted laces of pleasures…
They walk to the residence of The Snow Queen, unjust ruler and duchess,
March to the New Toy Shop, the North’s ruins and only standing fortress.
Here, on the first day of Hanukkah in 2016*, the last battle takes place.
The Vampire king, awakened and victorious, will bring to his daughter a face:
The head of Santa Claus; then leave this forsaken space.
Dragons stand on guard here from the last Kwanzaa,
When they collect the humans as matunda ya kwanza**.
The whole family gathers around the crystallized white tree,
Exchanging gruesome presents with binds of flesh;
The noise of madness echoes throughout the festive holiday
As white and blue flames of ice scintillates a glimpse of doomsday.
“Say your unholy prayers in Christmas’s skin!
Let the weeping music play and the feast begin!”,
Thundered the Snow Queen, then she gives the cue:
“Wrap Red Nose Rudolph from the dungeons! Put him on the barbecue!”
*The first day of Hanukkah in 2016 is on the 24th of December
**Matunda ya kwanza (Swahili) = first fruits of the harvest
Congratulations to this week’s community favorite, Vlad Teodor Petcu . You can find the original piece on his blog, here.