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

Parallel by Single Strides

Bring me a sunset in a cup
Sprinkle in drops of rain
Watch as afternoon beauty
Is mixed with the world’s pain

Bring me the starry skin onto a plate
Mix in the dreams that lay awake
See as wishes fall to the floor
As the world gives up – the stars shine no more

Bring me daylight locked in a jar
Add in shadows that roam the night
Witness as hope stirs with fear
Welcome to the parallels of life my dear


Sonya is a believer. She believes in love even if she hasn’t quite found it yet. She hopes her writing can inspire others to believe in it too, as well as believing in themselves. She steals lunch breaks and midnights to write on the side of her full-time advertising career. She savors chai tea lattes, rainy days, rooftop bars, and handwritten notes. She enjoys exploring the world internationally, as well as at home in Miami, Florida. She believes that everything happens for a reason, and she’s okay with not quite knowing what that is yet. See more of her on her blog, www.singlestrides.com.

Isis by Sue Ann Simar

The devil won’t allow
uncertainty.
A bodiless sleep
for your little boy, for his
handheld head.
His blood no longer
his, no longer yours,
his blood a
nothingness, a blessing of
sand.
The mouth agape
censors itself, disavows
its gentle curse.
The hands
alone in their gathering.
Empty hands, their sky blue
reach, the monotonous
scream of sacrifice.


Sue Ann Simar has most recently published in Voices from the Attic, the anthology  affiliated with the Madwomen in the Attic workshops from Carlow College.  She also has a poem in the current issue of Backbone Mountain Review.  Sue lives in Morgantown, WV and works in the healthcare field.

Let’s Talk About: Issue Two Open Call

Did you know we are looking for poetry for the next anthology? We’re looking for poetry that is going to inspire us and enrich us. We noticed with the last anthology (Available on Amazon) there weren’t as many love poems submitted. We couldn’t imagine why.

We’re extending a red carpet. Do send us your love poems as well as your heartbreak. There’s beauty in both and we’d like to showcase the good and the bad of human nature. It’s fascinating what we humans will do for those heavy and sometimes all-consuming emotions.

Spin us a tale of sorrow. Give a yarn filled with you youthful yearning or the sly lust of an older man’s wandering eye. Tell us the stories that are in your hearts and in your minds. We eagerly await your words.

Submissions are currently open for Issue 2. The call will close June 30th. We’re always looking for more people to spotlight in our weekly Write for Us feature. Check out the submissions page and send us your work.

We can’t wait to read what you have to say.

 

 

The Dragon Slayer by Laura Clark

Across the fields and hills
Where hungry cattle graze
Moves a true and noble rider
T’wards a city set ablaze
By a creature filled with hatred
Of the gentle people’s ways
Which in a foul and wicked temper
That great city set ablaze

On his trusty, strong companion
On his brave and loyal steed
He rides up to the flaming homes
To end the dragon’s greed
In answer to the call of
The people’s desperate pleas
His sword and shield ready to
Destroy the dragon’s greed

Scaly armour on the beast;
No one has pierced its hide
Not fearing this, he swears
To avenge those who died;
His steed he leaves in safety
Thankful for this gentle guide
And goes to face the beast that
Extinguished those who died

The creature rounds him fiercely
As the warrior draws near;
He approaches the great monster
So bold; no hint of fear
It roars with mighty dominance
It bellows with a sneer
Yet he holds his head up high
Showing no hint of fear

A tail that brings down buildings
Collides roughly with his shield
Though the beast is far stronger
The warrior will not yield
They circle; they attack with force
One of their fates is sealed
Though until that fateful moment
The monster will not yield

A weakness in its armour
Beneath its giant head
Gives the warrior the chance
To strike the beast down dead
To destroy the wretched creature
That the city folk have fled;
When their fierce battle is over
He pins the beast down dead


Laura Clark is a 23 year old history graduate from England. She has been writing for many years and is very interested in fantasy and stories with morals. You can find Laura’s blog, here.

The Summer in Gaza by Lynn White

In the rain of the rockets
there’s no water.
Metal rain.

In the rain of the rockets
there’s no sunshine.
Smoke rain.
Black rain.

In the rain of the rockets
there’s no life.
Death rain.
Life ending rain.
Death without life rain.

In the rain of the rockets
there’s no hope.
Deaf rain.
Deaf rain.
Deaf rain.
Death rain


Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. Her poem, ‘A Rose For Gaza,’ was shortlisted for the Theatre Cloud ‘War Poetry for Today’ competition in October 2014 and has since been published in the ‘Poetry For Change Anthology by Vending Machine Press. Poems have also recently been included, or are forthcoming, in Harbinger Asylum’s ‘A Moment To Live By’ anthology, Stacey Savage’s ‘We Are Poetry an Anthology of Love poems’, In The World Of Womyn’s ‘She Did It Anyway’ anthology and Weasel Press anthology, ‘Degenerates: Voices For Peace’ and various on line and print journals.

Previously published by Rain Party and Disaster Society 2014

My God by Amitabh Vikram Dwivedi

My God is just an idea.
He takes his birth from my language,
When I speak He becomes a sound,
And like an atom He flows in my ears.
His light makes me see things around,
And His presence I feel everywhere.
He is my truth, my culture.
Sometimes, He makes my language hyperbolic
He is simply fantastic.
He is sea, earth, and fire,
A demon, animal, and human.
He is in my thoughts, beliefs and feelings.
He is like love, irrational,
Yet, without Him, I am not complete.


Amitabh Vikram Dwivedi is university faculty and assistant professor of linguistics at Shri Mata Vaishno Devi University, India; and author of two books on lesser known Indian languages: A Grammar of Hadoti and A Grammar of Bhadarwahi.
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As a poet, he has published around seventy poems in different anthologies, journals, and magazines worldwide. Until recently, his poem, “Mother,” has been included as a prologue to Motherhood and War: International  Perspectives (Eds.), Palgrave Macmillan Press. 2014.