2011 April PAD Challenge: Day 15

After today’s poem, we’ll be half the way to completing this challenge. (Oh yeah, and some people might have to do their taxes today–just a reminder.) Also, I want to let you all know that nominations are currently being accepted for the 2011 Poet Laureate of the Blogosphere. I was awarded this honor along with Sina Queyras last year, and I’ve personally nominated Jessie Carty this year, because she’s a great poet and a force for poetry. Of course, I could say the same of many Poetic Asides members. Many of you do so much for poetry online and in person. In fact, click here if you’d like to nominate anyone (including yourself–if you really think you’re all that).

Since I’ve already won the honor, I’m not eligible, so please don’t nominate me. However, there are many great poet-bloggers who work in this and other poetic communities.

*****

For today’s prompt, write a profile poem. When I think of a profile poem, I’m thinking of social media profiles. Personally, I have one for Twitter, LinkedIn, Facebook, and other sites like the Writer’s Digest Community website. So you could write a poem that is your own profile, or that of another person (like what would Edgar Allan Poe or Emily Dickinson put in their Facebook profiles). Of course, I’ll accept other takes on the prompt, such as describing a physical profile, or a piece on criminal profiling, etc. As always, the main thing is to write a poem.

Here’s my attempt:

“Robert Lee Brewer”

Writes, reads, and makes babies. That is,
when he’s not editing books or websites.
Or leading den meetings. Or changing his
appearance, though he mostly looks like
a person with a face, two arms and two
legs. He tries to be honest and sincere,
but his greatest fear is not being able to
help others. He rarely drinks booze or beer,
which seems to contradict his last name,
but he puts more stock in his middle one,
though lees would make it kind of the same.
He writes poems while there’s still a sun
around which the planet Earth can gravitate,
and he believes in ideas like love and fate.

*****

Follow me and my loose sonnets on Twitter @robertleebrewer

Tweet about your April poeming on Twitter with the #aprpad hashtag.

*****

Bring your characters to life
One of the most important elements to connecting with readers is being able to bring your characters to life, whether you’re writing fiction, nonfiction, or even poetry. In Breathing Life Into Your Characters, author Rachel Ballon teaches writers how to accomplish this through creating back stories and case histories, exploring motivations, understanding what makes a character tick, and more.

Click here to learn more.

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0 thoughts on “2011 April PAD Challenge: Day 15

  1. Mr. Walker

    Sevenling (The officer pointed)

    The officer pointed the profile gun
    at me: male,
    white, mid-forties.

    The officer pointed the profile gun
    at him: male,
    Latino, early twenties.

    The flashing red lights are not for me.

  2. Claudia Radmore

    profile to be sent into space with xenotext

    one of the first to be profiled in this manner
    using a computer her DNA transplanted into
    a bacterium stripped of its DNA and the whole
    sealed into a non-biodegradable cell that will
    exist in perpetuity in the atmosphere the client
    in agreement with all permutations that will be
    forming constantly in and around her profile as
    it is in line with her belief that no one on earth
    has an individual identity that will last beyond
    any so-called real world that this opens up the
    possibility to remain truly re-creative forever

    profile of a pig (a traveller in australia misses
    out on an important tourist attraction)

    well i didn’t know there was a famous pig in front of
    that hospital il porcellino with a pedigreed legend that

    goes back to ancient rome; i would’ve stopped for that
    i didn’t know that that it was lucky to rub this boar’s

    bronze nose or toss a coin as donation to friends of
    of sydney hospital did i. nor did i know that this pig’s

    original forebear came from the uffizi palace or that a
    closer relative was recast in the 1600’s by pietro tacca

    in florence, such aristocratic roots for a pig, or that this
    version (one of five) was presented to the hospital by

    the marchessa torrigiani as a memorial to her father
    tomas henry fiaschi and his brother piero fiaschi who

    were surgeons at the hospital. didn’t know that during
    the sydney olympics this very boar wore an olympic

    garland. well everyone listen now: on daffodil day
    his bronzness raises money for cancer by wearing a

    special hat. let’s all raise a glass to this silent hospital
    volunteer this totally magnificent most impressive pig

  3. mbschied

    More than this

    A librarian
    surrounded by books
    tomes of insight
    into the travails of life
    if only one has time to read them
    A helper
    surrounded by those who need
    two hands available
    to assist them
    if only they knew how to ask
    the question
    A lover
    surrounded by people to love
    a heart filled with compassion and mirth
    ready to overflow
    if only they thought to look my way
    all of these
    but a person first

  4. Richard-Merlin Atwater

    My Profile
    (C) Richard-Merlin Atwater April 15, 2011 prompt for the day — written on 16 April

    Once upon a time in old Shanghai I had a unique sidewalk experience,
    Standing as a tourist in disguise to all the world, he distinctly sought me out,
    A young native Chinese man with latent talent, and entrepreneurial dance,
    With paper and scissors, green and black , he began to formulate in route

    A silhouette of my profile: a left side view of stately me, like an august bust,
    Of some famous writer, or politician, musician, or Roman general perhaps,
    At first I wasn’t interested and tried to avoid his occupational wanderlust,
    Targeting me to show his art and skill he caught me like the kamikaze Japs.

    I acquiesced, gave in to his petitioned biddings, searched a coin or two,
    Paid him his daily due, and I was thus self-possessed of "one and only me",
    My Profile, true and stately as can be which gave a perfect configuration, who
    Else do you think it could be but me? A 3 x 5 profile card on felt and foam, See

    What life can bring in "far away places with strange sounding names" on the run,
    In black and white on green background with mini-picture of Shanghai town,
    To grace my memorablia nick-knack momentos from foreign travels, so much fun
    As I dig it out to see the first time in twenty-six years to grace this poem renown.

  5. Richard-Merlin Atwater

    My Profile
    (C) Richard-Merlin Atwater April 15, 2011 prompt for the day — written on 16 April

    Once upon a time in old Shanghai I had a unique sidewalk experience,
    Standing as a tourist in disguise to all the world, he distinctly sought me out,
    A young native Chinese man with latent talent, and entrepreneurial dance,
    With paper and scissors, green and black , he began to formulate in route

    A silhouette of my profile: a left side view of stately me, like an august bust,
    Of some famous writer, or politician, musician, or Roman general perhaps,
    At first I wasn’t interested and tried to avoid his occupational wanderlust,
    Targeting me to show his art and skill he caught me like the kamikaze Japs.

    I acquiesced, gave in to his petitioned biddings, searched a coin or two,
    Paid him his daily due, and I was thus self-possessed of "one and only me",
    My Profile, true and stately as can be which gave a perfect configuration, who
    Else do you think it could be but me? A 3 x 5 profile card on felt and foam, See

    What life can bring in "far away places with strange sounding names" on the run,
    In black and white on green background with mini-picture of Shanghai town,
    To grace my memorablia nick-knack momentos from foreign travels, so much fun
    As I dig it out to see the first time in twenty-six years to grace this poem renown.

  6. Laura Hohlwein

    Wave</b>

    They were so very small
    the people I loved
    their silhouettes – black against the sunset
    separating from the black of the sea cliff rocks
    barely

    The smallest movement
    a stretching
    a brushing of blown hair away from the face
    and I could tell sister from mother from friend or friend

    How well we know each other
    even when great distance makes us almost
    disappear

    a little limp or a habit of turning
    precious – registered somehow in the tiny shape
    and I bend down to poke at the sand
    or dig after a creature burrowing at the disappearance
    of the edge of a wave
    and they say, oh

    that’s Laura, look
    that little dot

    where?

    there
    see?
    follow the little river.
    see the kelp?
    the wave is pulling back. see.
    there.

    That’s her. Ha.
    I wonder if she can see us.

  7. Laurie Granieri

    With Apologies to Bette Davis*

    Dating profile for “IllTumbleForYa44”:
    Gender: Male
    Age: 44
    Looking for: Women ages 18 to 26
    Build: A little extra to love

    What most people don’t know about me: Wouldn’t u like to know!!! E-mail me, and I’ll tell u. LOL!

    What I’m looking for in a relationship: Good times with a slim, sexy down to earth lady. No drama please. Angry people r a drag. Don’t bother e-mailing me unless u send a RECENT photo.

    You should message me if: u can handle dating a 44 year old big hearted guy who lives in his parents basement because his ex is sucking up 80% of his salary!!!

    My self-summary: u only have one life, and I know how to make the most out of it.
    I have more fun and crazy adventures then most can ever dream about. So, if youre ready, hop on, buckle up cuz its gonna be a wild ride.

    *With special thanks to the online dating site OK Cupid for providing the above questions

  8. Julie Hayes

    About Me

    Oh, please read this little bit
    It may just be a hit
    But that’s what they always want
    Just a little about me.
    I like to use the Facebook,
    But more to play the games.
    So what do I write in that space?
    You know, the one that says “About Me”.
    Well, I like to read and write.
    I take some photos too.
    But cross stitch is a big hobby
    That I thoroughly enjoy.
    So there you go,
    What can I say?
    Just a little tiny bit
    About me.

  9. Becka

    Summer Day

    Childhood summer’s longest day spent
    Playing “Little House on the Prairie”
    In a tent of bed sheets tossed over a clothesline
    Held down with rocks on the four corners
    Small cherry tomatoes from the garden next door
    Made their way in our lunch of
    Tomatoes and grilled cheese sandwiches
    As the day wore on we played
    Hopscotch drawn on sidewalks with rocks we’d collected
    No sidewalk chalk for us, we didn’t need it
    When the rain came down we eagerly
    Searched for the promised sign
    Rainbows leading to pots of gold and fairy gardens
    That disappeared when the sun began to fade

  10. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    Profile Poem #7
    by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    When Spideywoman isn’t busy
    wrestling black widows
    and sheparding feral cats,
    she likes to shower herself
    selfishly with regalos from
    eBay and Amazon and otherwise
    wasting time at Facebook and
    Hispanic Kitchen dot com.
    When she’s not prankin’ friends
    and judges at various model
    horse shows across the pacific
    northwest, you can usually
    find her holed up in front
    a screen moonlighting as a
    spanglish poet.

    © 2011 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

  11. Linda Voit

    It’s Saturday, and I still have not had time to read this day’s selections! Sometime! Anyway, thanks Nina, Nikki, Connie, Janet RC, Domino for the uplifting comments! Michael Grove – I did not post a poem called "The Parental Traite" – just want you to know so you can send kudos to the right person. 🙂

  12. Cara Holman

    Me

    I am…
    the daughter of my parents
    the mother of my children
    the wife of my husband
    the sister of my siblings

    I am…
    a dreamer, a thinker,
    a reader, a writer,
    a student, a teacher,
    a poet, a haijin

    I am…
    neither young nor old
    but somewhere in the middle
    I use words as a tool
    to figure things out

  13. Uma Gowrishankar

    Where I Veil Myself In Poetry

    I walk with myself a few steps at a time
    open the drawers and pull out dresses
    the colours of rainbow from years
    that I remember only as a mist on the hill.

    It took me this long to visit my wardrobe
    to pick the clothes I dropped,
    smear of lipstick glossy and
    all wrong shades that hid my smile.

    You called me across the garden
    with golden shower of gooseberry leaves,
    for lunch, now I smoke potatoes in coal
    in the backyard of my memories.

    I slipped to the room where
    firewood is stored, whiffed the smell
    left by you. I just wanted to lie naked
    look at the moon through the glass slat.

    Was that a mistake, I was a little girl then.
    Now my eyes are like an endless night
    that has never seen a moon. Still the breeze
    carry pollen into the dark heart of my flower.

  14. Amy T-P

    Grandfather Mountain Profile

    (like standing "in the face of all Heaven come to earth." – Sierra Club founder John Muir, Sept. 25, 1898, Grandfather Mountain, NC)

    Stolidly,
    Soundly,
    Peacefully sleeping while fog like frozen breath covers your mouth
    Confidently breathing in and out time’s passing purple clouds
    Undeterred by the motions of traffic beneath your chin
    Watching patiently as the shifting seasons pass
    Inviting man and beast to explore your intimate spaces;

    Hoarfrost gracing your wizened visage
    Frozen streams, icy rocks, snowy paths winding through bare trees
    Where the ravens rule grey skies;
    Unhurriedly waiting the advent of spring’s
    Blood-root, trillium, tiny violets emerging
    With the morning calls of siskins, warblers, thrushes;
    Foraging deer gliding down slopes, panthers creeping through troves of
    Pink-shell azalea vaseyi and lilies belonging to Grey, Micheaux, Carolina and the Turks;
    Nature’s flame burning through medicinal thistle and ironweed,
    Erupting in pools of orange Mountain Ash,
    Dancing with blazing sugar maples, sourwood, pumpkin-colored beech trees
    Creeping flamboyantly towards the earth;

    Satisfied spirit and heavy eyelids slowly closing once again
    Sensations of quartz veins pulsing through coarse grey rock
    Slipping into slumber for another season
    Resting with the peregrines and bears
    Peacefully dreaming songs of returning feathered-friends,
    Serenely abiding life’s transitions
    Immutably constant,
    Unswervingly
    Faithful

  15. Kyhaara

    I am definitely too tired: *Fictitious

    —-
    @ Tilly: "My Laughing Housewife Profile" is hilarious. I’m that way, too (minus the housewife part).

  16. Earl Parsons

    A modification of my Facebook profile:

    In A Nutshell

    I’m a Christian
    A husband
    A father
    A son
    A brother
    An uncle
    Grandfather
    And friend
    I’m retired once
    But still working
    A Deacon
    An undiscovered writer
    A struggling poet
    A wanabe photographer
    I’ve finally gotten to the point in my life
    Where I realize that the best thing I can do
    Until the day I die
    Is work for the Lord Jesus Christ
    And I’ve found that the more I learn
    About and love the Lord
    The better life gets for me
    My family
    And those around me

  17. Kyhaara

    Annabelle Samantha Locke:
    Always has a good time.
    Such a fun-loving lady who
    Laughs often, loves always.

    Answering all email, and
    Seeking a gentleman who is
    Looking for a life partner.

    Anatomically beautiful,
    Such luscious long lashes and
    Locks of chestnut ringlets.

    A kindergarten teacher and writer.
    She has eyes like jade jewelry,
    Lustrous and green and speckled.

    Asking for a chance at love, so she
    Says yes to a date, but is often
    Left alone in her wheelchair.

    —-
    A fictious person based on a story / personal account I read long ago.

  18. A~Lotus

    I crashed on the couch last night, so I forgot to post mine up because I was so exhausted. Here it is!

    —————————————-
    Kathy Nguyen
    Is a plain Jane Smith, or at least the Vietnamese version
    of it when she introduces herself to anyone for the first time.
    Just say “Win,” and you will never have to worry about the nasal part
    of the “Ng” where you press on your soft palate with your tongue
    and breathe out all the bottled up negative energy
    as if before a 5 kilometer run where you’re already laced up,
    pumped up but the countdown to gun time seems like an eternity.
    And WIN she did when she beat her own previous record
    seeing the finish line was just a few yards, few bursts of cheers away.

  19. AC Leming

    Silhouette (ekphrastic)

    Firefighter silhouetted
    against the flames devouring
    the donated house. His coat
    buckled to chin, helmet in profile. 

    I can’t see his face, backlit by the fire.  
    I can’t see if his eyes are as hungry
    as the firestorm behind him.  If he wants
    the fire to wither the grass underfoot
    before he fights those flames with cold water.

  20. Jane Shlensky

    Nina Lanctot, thanks for the mention. Nancy’s right about the kindness and encouragement you all give to veterans and newbies alike. It’s delightful–and appreciated.

  21. Mike Bayles

    Mike Bayles

    Writes poetry and short stories
    and keeps coming back to his novels.
    His stories are his children.
    His characters are memories
    cloaked by imagination.
    His poems are lyrics of his soul
    inspired by songs
    and affections of other times and places.
    He listens to music
    of Paul McCartney and The Beatles
    to stir feelings of love
    for now and then.
    He sings Beatles and McCartney songs
    and tries to act like an incarnation of Paul.
    He loves artists and waitresses
    met along the way.
    He used to run and run and run,
    but now walks
    through memories of his life.

  22. PSC in CT

    Marie Elena – Thanks for your kind (as always) words! Good to see your smiling cyber face again! 😉 Hope you’re feeling better.

    Beth Rodgers – Thanks for your comments! Made me smile (still smiling!). Resonating is always a good thing when it comes to poetry! 😉

    Still hoping to get back to read & comment on the last few days. (Did I say I was a dreamer?…)

  23. Connie Lard

    My Profile

    Fifty-Something,
    Medium height and build,
    With silvering brown hair.

    Advanced Practice Nurse,
    Reflecting back on a fulfilling career
    And anticipating retirement.

    Blended Family Matriarch,
    Delighting in the joys and nuances
    Of intricate filial connections.

    Bibliophile and Lyric-Lover,
    Stealing moments away to contemplate
    Veiled and obscure mysteries.

  24. de jackson

    Thank you to Nina and Domino. And Domino, if you don’t already know, Robert does a prompt every Wednesday. My first PAD Challenge was two years ago, and I’ve been here just about every Wednesday since. Hope you stick around to share more of your wonderful words!

    Tanja Cilia: Your "I am me" has the same lovely lyrical flow as George Ella Lyon’s "Where I’m From." I especially adore:

    I am sea-urchins and anchovies, honey, capers, prickly pears and olives, from the Mediterranean’s
    best-kept secret.

  25. Penny Henderson

    MARY

    At sweet sixteen had never been kissed.
    Very tight with extended family.
    Now has grown boys. One taken early.
    Loves to travel. Been to Ephesus
    with adopted son. Likes to reminisce
    with and care for weary travelers.
    Hopes to join eldest son again soon.

  26. Bruce Niedt

    Oops! Re-posting due to sloppy syllable count, and left out the one occupation I get a paycheck for! (Marie Elena, this is the perfect year for tax procrastinators – they gave us till the 18th to file!)

    Occupations

    I
    am
    poet,
    dad, host dad,
    friend, husband, brother,
    father-in-law, brother-in-law,
    uncle, nephew, patient, chauffeur, masseur, housekeeper,
    launderer, cook, claims representative, traveler,
    procrastinating tax filer,
    music collector,
    movie buff,
    sixty,
    and
    here.

  27. Benjamin Thomas

    Morning everbody!

    The night has fallen
    The day has risen! Ha-Ha!

    Marie Elena: Thanks, ditto. Glad you enjoyed it. Yep, have lots of uncles and cousins. So many I can’t keep up with them.

    Pearl: Thanks to you as well.

    Kim King: Tres bien! Je l’aime!

    You know guys, I was just thinking this morning that I’ve never read this much poetry in two weeks! Wowsers! I never thought I would enjoy reading/poeming this much. Thanks to all of you awesome PAD, or PA poets as you say. You put the "A" in AWESOME.

    PS Took me awhile to figure out that PA wasn’t Pennsylvania- LOL!

    2nd PS Enjoy the rest of your day. Let’s see what unravels….

  28. Nancy Posey

    What I love about this group:
    When new poets appear, hesitant and humble at first, the group responds with warm welcome. I enjoy others’ responses to my PAD friends’ poems (friends I know from here and from the "real world") as much as I appreciate responses to mine.

  29. PKP aka Pearl Ketover Prilik

    Andrea still smiling…wonderful images "warm milk on wrist" to " hot dog ends"
    Marie… Thsnks for your comment about Benjamin ….terrific descriptions of his daughters! Will now look for the poem! Great writing Benjamin.

    Hannah and Yoly will have to search you out…. I never did find you…. Happy poeming all!

  30. Bruce Niedt

    Very little time to write this weekend, and the reason is contained in this "Fib":

    Occupations

    I
    am
    poet,
    dad, host dad,
    brother, brother-in-law,
    father-in-law, uncle, nephew,
    husband, friend, patient, chauffeur, masseur, cook, housekeeper,
    procrastinating tax filer,
    music collector,
    movie buff,
    sixty,
    and
    here.

  31. Marie Elena

    Benjamin: Got such a kick out of Benjamin Thomas! “Happy Father of two bambinos, one dynamite, one hand grenade” “Hybrid introvert/social bird; Poetry asides pumpin’ poem poster pal” LOL! So you have lots of cousins, eh? Aren’t they the BEST?! My only sibling (sister) and I grew up totally surrounded by cousins and loving aunts and uncles. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Add my “amen” also to your PA Poets profile. Continuing to admire your work, poster pal.

    mike Mayer: Ditto to all the comments you received. Glad you are with us this year, and hope you stick with us after April has passed. And I gotta ask … is there any meaning behind the small “m” of mike and the capital “M” of Mayer? That has had me curious from the get-go.

    Kimberly Brock: Bless your heart!

    Excellent work, Gretchen. Such insight into humanity.

    Tracy Davidson: Enjoying your work out here. Are you the Tracy Davidson from the ICL?

    Tilly: LOL!

    Thanks for the kind and generous comments from Nina and Michael!

  32. Tanja Cilia

    I am me

    I am sea-urchins and anchovies, honey, capers, prickly pears and olives, from the Mediterranean’s best-kept secret.
    I am the Grand Harbour view flat, cosy, homely, comfortable, an islander who feels as much at home in the water as outside it.

    I am the tiger lily freckles and the honeysuckle tendrils, and orange blossom water used as scent because it smells faintly of 4711.

    I am the coat of arms with the lion rampant holding the fleur-de-lys;
    the stubborn and the witty, the tall and the big-footed.

    I am the parsimonious yet generous,
    proud yet humble, solitary yet friendly.
    I lisp. I am intelligent and clumsy.
    I am bookish.

    I am the Catholic Pessimist and Jewish Cynic and Agnostic Believer.

    I am a cauldron of Phoenician, Carthaginian, Norman and French genes.

    I am me.

  33. Nilo Simogan

    Nilo Simogan

    An ordinary man with extra ordinary dreams
    Of making a difference in the lives of men:

    To become the bridge when there are only walls;
    To become a light when you only see is darkness;
    To bring joy to every face when happiness is scarce;
    To bring unity when everyone else wants divisions;
    To bring memories when the world is in oblivion;
    To bring justice when no one cares at all;
    To restore life when death is inevitable;
    To let everyone fight for their dreams when everyone is giving up.

    But he’s not a superhero.
    He’s just like you.
    And he needs you to make the impact
    Of the difference that this world and life
    Wanted to see.

  34. Tilly Bud

    My Laughing Housewife Profile

    Laugh. Family. Eat. Blog
    Motto: Why use four words when
    a thousand will do?

    My Poetry Blog Profile

    Three lines, seventeen
    syllables is sufficient;
    who needs more? Not me.

  35. Tracy Davidson

    Wanted Poster

    Female, short, early forties,
    curly hair, brunette,
    blue eyes hiding behind
    oversized glasses.

    Last seen wearing
    grey teddy bear pyjamas
    and red bed socks.

    Wanted for questioning
    in connection with the crime
    of impersonating a poet
    on internet writing blogs.

    If you see her, do not approach
    as she is armed (well,
    she has two of them),
    and considered extremely dangerous
    (particularly at this time
    of the month).

    Generous reward offered
    (whatever swag Robert Lee Brewer
    has lying around his office
    at the time).

  36. Gretchen Gersh Whitman

    PAD 2011- April 15
    Prompt: Profile

    The Man of Sorrows in the 21st Century

    won’t be found in alabaster marble relief
    or cradled by angels framed in gold leaf.
    But he is despised among men
    & drowns in a sea of grief.

    Look for him at the fifty ninth street subway,
    hat in hand, eyes downcast, with the cardboard sign,
    “Homeless- will work for food,”
    as commuters avert their gaze.

    Or at the packed Wall Street cocktail party
    in a dark pinstripe suit. He’s the guy alone
    in a corner, nursing a crystal snifter of J & B, who
    attempts to smile, stone facade ready to crack.

    He may pick you up later in his leased
    Mercedes & salsa dance all night
    but he forgot how to love ages ago.

    He may wriggle his way into your heart &
    through your apartment door, then
    roll you on the floor until you can’t
    breathe or say, “No more.”

    Don’t be fooled. The stain on his starched
    white shirt is no wound, but sangria. He
    only bleeds for capital not you. Or after
    he blows his brains out.

    Gretchen Gersh Whitman

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