Blind Date

Apr3

Frumptart meets Trumptard: it’s bliss forever!

Rainbow twins make pink Indian Summer

Poke your hontas, indigenous lover,

Till Twitter-dumb gets Twittering-dumber.

Having had my fill of a noxious brew

(Militant Marxist Genderqueer free verse),

My soul now seeks a less venomous view:

Write more poetry! Dispel this global curse.

Today’s prompt asked me to do what I always do when I attempt a poem:

PROMPT #3: Today’s optional prompt asks you to make a list of ten words. You can generate this list however you’d like – pull a book off the shelf and find ten words you like, name ten things you can see from where you’re sitting, etc. Now, for each word, use Rhymezone to identify two to four similar-sounding or rhyming words.

A rousing hymn to techno-spring.
Please kneel for social distancing.
(Consider what you’re worshiping.)

New strains infect the melody:
A chord of biochemistry
Invading imperceptibly . . .

No longer dim or vague, but viral
Airborne fears begin to spiral.
Breath: a pulmonary trial.

Parties perish. Nations sigh.
Decrees are ordered from on high
Intending to demystify.

Our faces pushed to lifeless screens
Seeking solace from machines,
Placing faith in new vaccines . . .

Breaking news appears satanic:
Lemmings, in Pavlovian panic
Render rulers megalomanic.

City-dwellers bought the farm;
Chinese numbers quell alarm,
Mother Nature to disarm.

Bureaucrats drone on. World health:
A strategy of Marxist stealth
To siphon off our nation’s wealth.

Consolidating more control,
A cashless one-world rule their goal.
Read your Bible. Guard your soul.

Nicean Barks

Apr2

Such transports as true poetry provides

In raptures of the soul, and lyric rides,

May carry one beyond the lofty heights

In chariots of sun on drunken nights.

Whether true odyssey or shorter trip,

Homeric craft or humbler sort of ship,

The poet’s chosen stowaway rides free;

The ticket paid for literarily.

And afterward, the traveler comes home

Enriched by distant sights and worlds unknown.

PROMPT #2: write a poem about a specific place . . .

Paths to Pathos

Apr1

Poets: a pathetic lot—

Who sing, off-key, of their own refusing.

On a quest for what is not,

Entranced with their own maudlin musing

In that zone where life gets buffered

As the pages load; confusing

Pain with what their souls have suffered:

Lyric bombs for your defusing.

write a self-portrait poem in which you make a specific action a metaphor for your life –
one that typically isn’t done all that often, or only in specific circumstances.
For example, bowling, or shopping for socks, or shoveling snow, or teaching a child to tie its shoes.

CONNECT/HOOK

POETIC FLUX

Monthly Archives: April 2020

Blind Date

Today’s prompt asked me to do what I always do when I attempt a poem:

Nicean Barks

PROMPT #2: write a poem about a specific place . . .

Paths to Pathos

write a self-portrait poem in which you make a specific action a metaphor for your life –
one that typically isn’t done all that often, or only in specific circumstances.
For example, bowling, or shopping for socks, or shoveling snow, or teaching a child to tie its shoes.

Today’s prompt asked me to do what I always do when I attempt a poem:

PROMPT #2: write a poem about a specific place . . .

write a self-portrait poem in which you make a specific action a metaphor for your life – one that typically isn’t done all that often, or only in specific circumstances. For example, bowling, or shopping for socks, or shoveling snow, or teaching a child to tie its shoes.

write a self-portrait poem in which you make a specific action a metaphor for your life –
one that typically isn’t done all that often, or only in specific circumstances.
For example, bowling, or shopping for socks, or shoveling snow, or teaching a child to tie its shoes.