nov 8 agreement

For today's prompt, write an agreement poem. There are a few obvious ways I see to approach this type of poem: 1. Write a poem in which there is an agreement made between two or more people, animals, or things; 2. Write a poem in which the narrator (or a character in the poem) agrees with everything--regardless of whether it's beneficial to the person (or animal); or 3. Write a poem that is a contract (or proposed agreement) with the reader (a la Billy Collins). Hopefully, we're all in agreement to write some poetry today. (from: http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/2010/11/08/NovemberPADChapbookChallengeDay8.aspx

Nov 7th--the props poem

Pro-Target

When you're out in the middle
of nowhere sometimes it can feel
like you are out in the middle of nowhere,
and then you walk it up
next to the pregnant lady
at HyVee in platform shoes
and a red mini-dress. I didn't know
they made see-through maternity clothes?
Maybe I shop at all the wrong stores.
Maybe I need to use the better computer.
The one, accordingly to my Dad that is plugged
into a wall. Laptops can't be safe.
Up-side-down jellyfish can't be safe,
but people look at them anyway.
Target might not be safe
for jelly-fish, but if I were
a fleece, that is where
I would want to be.

back up the bus: Nov 1-3

November 1: "closing the door" or "turning the page" poem. finding resolution with the fact that things will not be as they were.

November 2: 1) ready to start poem OR 2) "not ready" poem

November 3: kicatub poem. no, no, location poem. in a location, ok?

No5 : metamorph

For today's prompt, write a metamorphosis poem. This is an excellent opportunity to use metaphors and/or show changes in a season, person, animal, plant, or whatever.

From: (http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/2010/11/05/2010NovemberPADChapbookChallengeDay5.aspx)

November 4: containment

From (http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/2010/11/04/2010NovemberPADChapbookChallengeDay4.aspx)

"For today's prompt, write a containment poem. There are a lot of ways to contain things: Jails and prisons contain people; zoos and aquariums contain animals; and closets contain our clothes (and other "baggage"). Your poem can be about the actual container, the containment of things, or even the attempt to break free of containment. Of course, any other creative interpretation is encouraged as well."


Letter written from a dumpster in the Trader Joe's Parking Lot

I could wax the insides like an old wood floor
and move in here but there is no cooktop.
but what I wanted to tell you is:
there is a lot of food here. Much of it delicious
and barely bruised.

Witness:
oranges, wilted flowers, crackers,
slightly mis-treated maple syrup.
in answer to what we will feed the cats:
sardines and dented cans of tune.

Don't fret, love.
We can quit working
so long as they don't upgrade this metal
with a crushing device to deter
discard lovers like us.

32 word poem for dornkess

She wore her brightest dress on a dark day in autumn
Mist, rain, bleak skies
her color was eclipsed by the chlorophyll fade out
by waste products and glucose—
foliage so fly.

Here at the Gateway

Everybody's kids are all over
the place which could be a wicked
problem, because it is difficult
to say who will be a dentist
and who might take care of you
in your old age. You know you're there
when the sound of the dishwasher at night
is soothing. When the construction worker waves
you on, it is okay to breathe for the rest
of the day. This is the place in the body
where you most easily feel
the spider web. Where the 'B'
written there could be for this breath
and bloodmobile and Buddhism,
another Delivery service
inside us. But everyone knows you
shouldn't leave the spelling up to the incandescent
goose who would never think
about throwing a horse overboard
in the middle of the ocean. That's where I am.
Make the banana bread if only
to get respite from the fruit flies. If you feel
only half of the time, think of what you could do
with the rest of the time. My new neighbors
organize their Chamois and tire black
which requires a lot of swearing. We are hoping
the arborvitae will soak that up. It's impossible
to count the grasshoppers as they pass--
to get enough sleep is suffering. Now
that we have a real microwave, I can make
my way through the dark kitchen
by the light of the digital clock--
here at the Gateway, I've got hay bales
under my skin, the trolley car
that was once a restaurant, is just like
Arkansas, which is just like
Illinois and Iowa, but nothing like
waking up in Pittsburgh where the way
to your heart is a little bit brighter.