Day 15. Hump day.
Maureen Thorson's NaPoWriMo prompt: Because today marks the halfway point in our 30-day sprint, today I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that incorporates the idea of doubles. You could incorporate doubling into the form, for example, by writing a poem in couplets. Or you could make doubles the theme of the poem, by writing, for example, about mirrors or twins, or simply things that come in pairs. Or you could double your doublings by incorporating things-that-come-in-twos into both your subject and form. Happy writing!
Robert Lee Brewer's PAD prompt: Write a poem with at least four of the following eight words:
1. flat
2. ring
3. lavish
4. vessel | 5. paper
6. blacklist
7. gaudy
8. tooth |
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Of course, ambitious poets will immediately try using all eight words, but four will do if you’re just trying to get through today’s prompt.
Sarah is first up today, using the eight words in order, one per couplet. Great way to mix the prompts, Sarah!
In the Name of Love
She wasn’t much to look at, that was plain.
Limp brown hair hung flat against her wan cheeks
and her slender hands were simply too big
for her knobby wrists. But the golden ring
twisted round one knuckle made her dull eyes
sparkle and her cheeks glow with lavish love.
Answer me this riddle: what is true love?
This princess becomes a vessel for him:
the soldier of fortune, opportunist
who doesn’t need a slip of thin paper
to grant him access when he can use charm.
She exiles herself; writes a blacklist,
signature at the fore. She is condemned
by her own integrity. One gaudy
ring appears and her heart settles a bit.
His toothsome smile was real; his love true.
—Draft by Sarah Smith [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.]
Ven also mixed the prompts, incorporating all eight words into his massive opening couplet. But he doubles his doubles . . . look at his title!
Duplicitous Ring
The gaudy ring on your finger is the sparking promise of a lavish life. It’s a flat “A” grade from a curve grader.
It’s your first-class vessel, your Operation Blacklist, your anti-cavity toothpaste, your dining hall flypaper.
Your gaudy ring is many things, but it isn’t love.
—Draft by Ven Batista [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.]
Jedediah mixed the prompts with a sword-and-sorcery narrative that employed all eight words.
The Dragon
Our sailing vessel
Is called The Dragon.
The wind in my hair . . .
Joyful for Travel.
To where? I don’t care.
On my face, the sun.
A lavish kingdom
Which I left behind.
They will have to find
Another ruler.
I prefer freedom;
I am prince no more.
But that’s not the truth.
The Wizard’s blacklist,
A curse, a paper.
Death if I linger.
Whatever I wished,
My life is not worth
One gaudy hatpin,
An old lizard’s tooth,
Or any bauble
You might care to name;
I cease to travel
And I will face death.
Nor can I return
To where I have been.
Always fleeing on.
The whole world I’ll ring,
But nowhere call home.
This life is so flat,
Just running about.
I long for an end,
For time to run out.
I long to just sit
On precious dry land.
—Draft by Jedediah Kurth [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.]
I went for a narrative too, like Jed. To mix the prompts I used the eight words in order in couplets, like Sarah, but one per line. Thanks, guys.
Red-Letter Day
Friday Jen moved into Jon’s flat.
She didn't need a diamond ring
or lavish ceremony. No wedding wine
vessel with filigree. No cake. Nothing
like a paper from the government.
No blacklist by his old girlfriends.
No gaudy wedding dress. No mortgage
like a sore tooth. Just two best friends.
—Draft by Vince Gotera [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.]
And here's Alan's take on Brewer's eight words, all of them contained in that long first sentence.
Brewery
“I would give my eyetooth to read a flattering, slavish account of that gaudy spectacle, even if it were to
result in the reporter’s being blacklisted from the newspaper, just so Edna would burst a blood vessel.”
In downtown Johnson City, beer is hard
to find as air, with breweries mere blocks
between each other, competition won
by tastes of headstrong beerhounds, some so loyal
to old acquaintances that they will drink
degraded swill instead of changing bars.
The posted alcohol percentages,
the cleanliness, the LEDs, the youth,
the openness, the restroom potpourri,
the swipe of credit cards, the fogless buzz,
the safety words, the ziplessness, the choice
to walk away, all safety, safety first
above the risk of accidental fall
by individual unless contrived
ahead of time by budget, roommate, ride
returning home, or hotness of a date,
contrived and cautious hedonism each,
all individuals, will count as fun
as selfied, posted, “liked,” downloaded, shared,
like photographs of gorgeous plated food,
to be enjoyed in stasis, not consumed
by any organ but the eye. I would
not see it all again, endure that doubt,
subject myself a high-def, 4G void.
—Draft by Thomas Alan Holmes [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.]
Thanks for the hump day poems, everyone! Half down, half more to go. Entering the downhill slide to home!
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Ingat, everyone. ヅ |
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