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April PAD Challenge: Day 18

Categories: Personal Updates, Poetry Challenge 2008, Poetry Prompts.

I’ll pick back up on the highlights on Monday. Spent last night working on my Writer’s Market book, which goes to production next Friday. By the way, isn’t it cool? We’ve made it 60% of the way through April–once you write today’s poem. I’m sure anyone who’s made it this far will be able to cross the finish line on the 30th.

Today’s prompt is to take a line of my choosing and incorporate it into your poem in some way. You can use the line as the title of your poem, as the last line, as the first line, or even drop it somewhere in the middle–but you must use the line somewhere. And a special note to you “rule benders”: No, you cannot break up the line into individual words or phrases. The whole line must be used, though you can definitely insert a linebreak or two if you wish.

So, what’s the line anyway? It is: There is no connection.

No connection to what? And who is speaking? And in what context? These are questions you should ponder before tackling this prompt.

Here’s my poem for the day:

“Convergence”

We arrive late in Atlanta to learn,
“There is no connection available
from Hartsfield-Jackson to LaGuardia
tonight.” Some of us head to hotels
as others loiter, stranded south
of the Mason-Dixon line. A man
holding his cell says, “I can’t talk
in here. There’s no connection.”
One woman tells another, “It tears
me up to hurt him like I do, but
whenever we’re together there is
no connection. It’s like, ‘Okay.
Let’s get this over with already.'”
Those of us who stay and don’t
talk listen to those of us who do.
This is what happens when things
don’t go according to plan. One
person unloads all his frustrations;
another acts as if she might be
somewhat interested; and there is
no connection between the two.

 

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About Robert Lee Brewer

Senior Content Editor, Writer's Digest Community.

182 Responses to April PAD Challenge: Day 18

  1. Tanja Cilia says:

    There is No Connection… Is There?

    Thick as a brick…
    Utilitarian.

    A compliment, not… a brickbat.

    Because brick walls have a reason –
    Building blocks of homes and prisons, churches
    And convents… or missiles through a window…
    and debris of a war, or an earthquake.

    The brick wall to which we talk or against which we bang our heads
    Separates us from something that we desire –
    to be inside it or the freedom there is outside it.

    Headers and stretchers… a collective memory… weigh on the mind like a tonne of bricks.

    Does the clay in the brick outhouse remember the sheer cliff face?

    Do the fly ash, coke, slag, charcoal and grit
    in the bricked-up cavity wall remember the coal face?

    Does the mud remember the gentle kiss of the waves over the river bed?

    Does the quartz remember the womb of the earth, and the volcano
    that gave it birth?

    Do the dropped hot bricks care that they are left stone cold?

    There is no connection between hay and straw, and bricks and mortar.

    Because hay is delicious nutritional fodder and
    Straw is tasteless hollow stalks for bedding… and bricks…..

    And the angry Pharaoh forbade his men to give the Israelites straw… they had to gather it themselves.
    And the arris would have preferred to be a part of a cathedral…
    Rather than a forgotten chapel in the back of beyond.

  2. Carol Bachofner says:

    Ejucation

    She cannot spell or pronounce
    words like “tylenol,” “education,” common
    words everyone uses. Her spelling is off
    by a few letters, or sometimes so alien
    I have to guess by context. Her grammar
    by all accounts is only a distant cousin to accurate.
    Same age as I, educated in the same state,
    she missed something. Was it her teachers?
    What about the difference in our towns? Parents
    pushing me and not her? Ever hurrying to the next task,
    the next idea, maybe she never stopped to suss
    out the rules, the process of proper English.
    She sees herself as inferior, somehow flawed
    in comparison, calls me the educated one.
    Counting her bad grammar, poor spelling, odd diction
    would be a mistake. There is no connection
    between eloquence and friendship, no link
    between spelling and neighborliness.
    At every bizarre turn of phrase, I cringe,
    keep reminding myself there is no connection.
    No connection, not connected. Not.

  3. S.E. Ingraham says:

    A verrrry late submission for this prompt

    "There is no connection…"

    After she is rear-ended
    She sits ramrod straight
    Still as a stop-action
    Figure on film
    She sees her unblinking eyes
    In the review mirror
    Wonders idly
    Where her hat is
    Why her skin is so white
    Why she can’t hear
    Anything
    Why she can’t seem to move
    Anything
    Tries futiley to remember
    What is happening
    Comes up with
    Nothing
    Way way off
    She thinks she hears
    A tiny tinny
    Voice
    She strains to hear
    She imagines
    It is saying
    Something about
    About an
    Ambulance
    But
    There is no connection
    She can think of
    To the voice
    To her eyes
    And still she cannot move.

    S.E.Ingraham

  4. Laurie Kolp says:

    The Conclusive Connection

    There is no connection
    between here and there,
    look up in the sky.
    You may wonder where
    it all ends,
    or simply begins,
    between here and there.
    Does counting start at zero?
    There are negatives
    and positives, too.
    Numbers, that is
    between here and there.
    Does life begin at conception,
    or end when you die?
    Is heaven or hell
    a fairy tale?
    There is no connection.

  5. Sarah says:

    The price of oil
    keeps rising per barrel
    conveniently it seems
    at the highest travel
    times of the year
    but ‘there is no connection’
    the oil barrens say
    it’s the war or a
    shortage of storage
    but one has nothing
    to do with the other
    and ‘there is no connection’
    with the fact that
    the green folk
    have people searching
    for alternate fuels
    which will eventually
    eat into their profits,
    but by then what will
    anyone care?
    since they’re rich
    in a day
    it’s the American way!
    never mind if
    folks can’t get to work
    they’ll just sit by the pool
    as they try to stay cool
    and not care who they hurt
    to get there.

  6. Kate says:

    Alternate

    In sleep I dream another landscape, an entire
    country, with cities I visit and college dorms
    and trailer parks I live in and husbands and
    wives and that job in the train tunnels repairing
    tracks. Over the years I re-visit old haunts,
    remember places like old friends. I have dream
    lovers, dream break-ups, I’m always moving,
    dreaming up new dream houses, climbing towers.
    If I’m happy in my waking world, nightmares fill
    my sleep. If life is hard I escape to dreams where
    the map is in fragments and there is no connection.

  7. Animation

    Though I like Phineas and Ferb
    With its twists and turns
    And inventions
    The platypus Perry,
    Cute as he may be
    While saving the world,
    He can’t really exist.

    "There is no connection
    Between animation and the real world,"
    Says my friend, Sierra
    I try to deny
    This fact of life
    But I can’t get it out of my mind

    After the episode of Phineas & Ferb ends
    I realize though I have a crush on Perry,
    We can’t really go on a date
    Because there is no connection
    As an afterthought, I added,
    "By the way, I’m not old enough to date Perry!"

  8. LindaTK says:

    Day 18
    There is no Connection

    There Is No Connection

    Allegedly, a butterfly flaps it’s wings
    And it is felt halfway around the world.
    It’s a way of saying that all things are connected.
    A serial killer stuffs his eighth victim in a garbage bag
    Thrilled, excited, in control
    Headed for the deep woods
    Eager to find the perfect spot
    Satisfied for the moment.
    A Buddhist Monk meditates in the monestary
    Quiet, serene, in control
    Headed for a higher consciousness
    Eager to find enlightenment
    Satisfied with the moment.
    There is no connection.

  9. priya says:

    Hands reach out
    Over miles, over seas,
    Trying to form
    What they already know
    Should be real.
    But the distance between
    Is too much,
    Blood rivers carve the land…
    They try, but
    There is no connection:
    Their fingers never touch.

  10. M. Schied says:

    Gone

    I want to see him
    standing before me
    holding his arms open
    waiting to enfold me
    I want to be there
    now and forever
    but there is no connection
    between us anymore

  11. Hope Greene says:

    Summertime, Chicago

    Every day in the afternoon
    The eloteros comes honking
    Down the street behind
    Two bicycle tires bolted
    To a rusty refrigerator box.
    With a handpainted sign
    “ELOTES” it says, and then
    Some other Spanish too small to read.

    It’s true that elote means corn
    But corn is not what he’s selling as
    I found out one city afternoon
    When I gringoed up to him and asked for some.
    With nothing in his face
    He handed me a limp
    Cob that must have been cooked last year
    solely as a prop for the fuzz
    If needed.

    I think the rest of the sign must read:
    There is no Spanish?
    There is no connection.

  12. Connection

    “oh, what tangled web we weave
    when first we practice to deceive.”
    -William Shakespeare

    Lying is not forgivable
    Especially to one you love
    There is is an anecdote I
    once heard;

    ‘A lie is like a nail in wood
    you can take the nail out
    by saying you are sorry.
    But the hole remains.’

    Baby, you must feel perforated.

    I wonder why you’re so quick to
    get upset
    I try to tell you there is no connection
    Between a decade ago and now
    I almost convince myself as well

    But the connection is the past
    The past shapes the future
    How, then, can we let go of the past
    And still hope for the future?

    We can’t
    Can’t let go
    It is in our nature

    So we press on
    We continue moving
    We hope for the best
    We do our best
    And everything will come out okay
    in the end.

    -Justin M. Howe

  13. Judy, it seems that we’re playing catch up together on the same day…

  14. Judy Roney says:

    I genuinely look forward
    to our time together
    each time we meet
    I embrace her and smile

    I listen intently
    as she shares her life
    ask questions when silence
    lies so heavy between us
    I’m always hopeful for that time
    we find a common ground

    Why do I try so hard to
    reach her, what draws me
    to this task, is it disbelief
    that two lives that converge often
    can’t find syncrinicity
    that there is no connection
    or do I simply love a challenge.

  15. Raven says:

    butterflies…

    a butterfly
    with wings so slight
    a brisk wind blowing
    surrendering
    to the flow
    of the volcanic current
    dipping down below
    to where cherry blossoms
    bloom
    where petals fall
    along with dew
    and silver drops
    of rain
    patter against
    old tin roofs
    extruding mud
    and joy as seeds
    burst forth
    rebourn
    beneath the glaring sun
    one can reach
    but never know
    for there is no connection
    not any more

    By TK Kietero

  16. Lynn says:

    There is no connection
    between us anymore.
    We bicker and fight,
    unable to rest.
    There is nothing left
    of what used to be.
    A love once treasured
    has become empty.
    Awake late at night
    I’m lonely, longing
    for love that once was…
    Meanwhile, knowing
    it’s lost forever…
    Both of us claiming
    we’re misunderstood.

  17. k weber says:

    Speaking in tongues

    I hide my illness well; explain
    in codes and hushed tones
    and do my best "deep Russian"
    accent to accent that there
    is no connection between me
    and myself on my depression
    days

    I have deep Russian: said thick
    and European, slicking through me
    like borscht or a sickly, grey
    and unrelenting afternoon

    There is no connection from
    me to you when the phone
    is unhinged and I am sleeping
    under my pillow; there is no
    connection when your hug
    harnesses my torso
    and I am a million
    miles from feeling even
    incomplete and real

  18. LBC says:

    Just A Dream

    There is no connection
    between Who I am
    and Who I want to be;
    just a dream.

  19. samantha altman says:

    Longing

    Why do you only haunt my dreams?
    Why can’t I ever see you?
    I miss you and there’s an ache inside,
    A pain that burns all the way through.
    If I could only see a glimpse,
    That would be my resurrection.
    Instead I’m like a dropped phone call,
    Lost and there is no connection.

  20. Mike Padg says:

    There is no connection to a past
    that holds no future.
    Reality suppresses visions
    of bliss in surreal fashion.
    Show me the present connected to us…
    …There is no connection

  21. Laural says:

    Pardon me for the above poem. It’s a catchup for third person, but I posted it on the wrong comment trail. Here’s the real poem with a forced card:

    We Read Together

    I read my book
    Feet propped up
    Back tilted just perfectly
    Fuzzy green chair
    Welcomes me to its
    Warm embrace.

    You study your book
    Feet propped up
    Back more tilted than mine
    Smooth navy chair
    Holds you close.
    There is no connection.

  22. Laural says:

    3rd Person is Her

    She can’t wait
    For flowers to bloom
    For love to come her way
    For everything to make sense
    The way Dick and Jane
    Used to make sense.
    For her to know who
    She’s going to be someday.

    She has to wait
    Because the universe
    Doesn’t run on her time
    But ticks along humming
    Its own tune, fast and slow
    Without a look to see
    How she’s handling the
    Flow of time around her.

  23. Rebecca says:

    Teaching Poetry

    Adolescents in heat stare at me
    glassy-eyed, slack-jawed.

    There is no connection.

    "What does this haf to do wit us?
    Sandberg’s confusin’"

    There is no connection.

    "How can I Listen Actively
    if I am reading a book?"

    There is no connection.

    Impassivity like a dial-tone
    droning in my ear.

    There is no connection.

  24. Monica Martin says:

    Thanks to everyone for your kind words. Now that the ground has stabilized, I’m going to get caught up.
    A.C. Leming, your piece was brilliant!

    "There is no Connection"
    There is no connection
    Between her death and mine.
    We’re two different people,
    Unaware of each other,
    Killed one week apart.
    Different M.O.,
    Different dump site.
    No fibers, no prints,
    No bloodstains, no witnesses.
    How do you catch a killer
    If there is no connection
    Between her death
    And mine?

  25. Linda Hofke says:

    Tonya, the Two Mes speaks to me. Love it!

    Unfortunately, this was the best I could do. Perhaps I can salvage it in May.

    What they don’t Realize

    They say there is no connection
    between you and me.
    Is it because I read poetry
    and you read mysteries?
    Is it because I prefer tea
    and you drink coffee?
    Is it because I work in a school
    and you in a mashine shop?
    Are these the reasons they say
    that you and I
    are like night and day?
    Is this why they see
    no connection?

    What they don’t realize
    is that your words
    speak to me
    like a well-written poem
    and that you read
    my mysterious ways
    like an open book.
    What they don’t realize
    is that I thirst
    for your conversation
    and you for my humor.
    What they don’t realize
    is that you have taught me
    how to truly love
    myself and others
    and that together
    we have found the pieces
    to build a relationship
    not just on lust
    but trust and care.
    What they don’t realize
    is that when night turns to day
    the sun rises to kiss the moon.
    They cannot see the connection
    of our souls but to me,
    it is as certain
    as night and day.

  26. Lin Neiswender says:

    There Is No Connection

    There is truly no connection
    Between the title of this poem
    And what the poem says
    Just a convention that says
    There has to be one
    Has been broken- aha

    I spit on your convention forsooth
    Sorry to be so gross but I
    Had a momentary lapse of good
    Judgment in the process of word-selection
    And whatever came out, came out

    It seems this poem has no theme either
    No coat rack of ideas, no framework or
    scaffolding or skeleton to hang the words on
    Except black squiggles on white paper
    That people try to make sense of

  27. Jay Sizemore says:

    Had some trouble with this prompt, struggled to find a unique voice for it, finally got it today, but now I am behind again and playing catch up. I did not cheat, the line is in my poem, you just have to look for it. ;)

    Alzheimer’s

    Thoughts escape through cracks,
    holes in the synaptic
    equilibrium of transience best
    remembered as the broken down box
    existing folded inside the mind

    inside the empty lost spaces of
    someone that used to be someone,

    now clinging to fragments
    of a former life like a handful of loose

    change, everyday a battle with her
    own tongue, to force the word “spoon” or
    “nephew” through lips that have
    no memory of ever forming syllables to
    express hunger or love, her face blank,
    chalk white as she stares
    through the window of glass, locked
    inside the walls of her
    own body, an existence trapped forever
    naked.

  28. She sees me as "different"
    I see her as intolerant
    She speaks little to me
    and I seem to follow
    Anger rides patiently
    Discrimination emanates
    even while she holds
    a prayer book in her hand
    this I will never understand
    and have lost most of my hope
    of changing our directions
    because
    there is no connection

  29. AlaskanRC says:

    ~It Would Be a Lie~

    Our past is what sets
    us up for the future.
    With out our past-
    both good times and bad,
    happy and depressing,
    painful and riddled with misfortune-
    a future there could never be.

    If I must be logical
    it would be a lie
    for me to say that
    there is no connection,
    between my past and the
    woman I’ve become.

    Try as I might to forget
    and burry my past it is useless.
    For I know deep down without my past
    I wouldn’t be who I am today.
    I’ve been blessed with
    a strenght that brought me through
    proud to be the woman I am today.

  30. Crystal Cameron says:

    "Spaghetti On Mars"

    Two trains pass in the night,
    both traveling at warp speed
    and carrying

    commuters shuttling between
    Albania and Giligan’s Island.
    And vice versa.

    But the question is:
    do we have time enough to stop
    and smell the roses?

    And if the trains crash,
    who will stay behind to tell
    the others there is no connection

    between the dryness in your mouth
    and global warming?
    Did Hitchcock write this script,

    For sheep rather than actors?
    And do we sleep together
    despite the fact

    that my mom will be home soon
    and you have to be to work
    at ten tomorrow morning?

    The stars never sleep.
    They stay up to watch the trains pass.
    And while they’re passing,

    each bullet shaped car
    a blur of yellow light,
    and while we’re fucking,

    The polar ice caps are melting,
    and there’s not a damn thing
    we can do about it,

    Despite Al Gore’s early warning.
    So let’s hop a train to Romania.
    The weather’s better in Eastern Europe,
    anyway.

  31. Tiffany B says:

    The Affair
    The end, so much like the beginning,
    I cannot tell the difference.
    She looks up at you with tears in her eyes and asks why.
    There is no connection, you reply.
    But, somewhere we lost our connection.
    I lay on a couch desiring only one thing.
    Once it was you, now it is him.
    You cannot deny me what I want, even if it isn’t you.
    You could not deny me her, because I asked you to get rid of her.
    You cannot deny me him, because I came to you to ask.

  32. Lyn says:

    There is no connection between candidates and issues
    "Say again?"
    A rally to support a democratic candidate
    drew supporters to the stone benches in the park
    A "legalize marijuana" campaigner drifted through
    handing out fliers inviting people
    to attend the next day’s protest
    Many of the rally volunteers
    tossed the fliers away
    "There is no connection
    We might be liberal but drugs are immoral"
    Au contraire, connections abound
    same weekend
    similar timeframes
    police presence
    stumping for a cause
    a gathering of street people hoping for a handout
    Can you really believe there is no connection?

  33. Yoli says:

    This one was not easy for me. I cheated a bit and had to rework an old poem; it was the only inspiration I could get…I hope that’s ok…

    BREAK UP

    I am in the middle
    Of hurt of pain of confusion
    Of happiness and joy
    Of fear.
    I live my life day to day
    More like minute to minute
    Trying to figure out a way
    To deal with this mess
    To let go of the stress
    That is renewing my gray hair
    And cranky mood.
    I think of you
    And how sad it is that we are not friends.
    I wonder of we ever will be again.
    There is no connection.
    Circumstances
    Chances
    People stand in the way
    Mostly because you let them.
    But then we only try for the things
    We really want so
    I guess that isn’t concern for me,
    For us to be in good standing.
    Standing with all this in between
    I look at you
    Shake my head
    Then walk away.

  34. Terri says:

    The political debates–
    arguing, name calling, back stabbing;
    The evening news–
    war, starvation, disease;
    The world, my country, my state
    my city, my county, my neighborhood,
    sometimes even my family–
    work, school, meetings, soccer practice,
    Drive-thru dinners and snippets of conversation;
    Sometimes I feel the entire world is
    one big Connect-the-Dots page
    We are but numbered dots on a blank page,
    There is no connection–
    Someone needs to dry the first line.

  35. Dee IKJ says:

    There is no Connection 04-18-08

    Sticky hand prints on the wall,
    a message there they do scrawl.

    Red and sticky, sweet and icky,
    Small hand prints, could it be Ricky?

    On the counter the lid half off, strawberry jam,
    a can of spam, where is that darling little lamb?

    Spots on the floor, one by one
    follow them carefully out the door.

    There he is, with Sam the his dog, face licked clean, what affection
    Sorry Mom he says there is no connection!

  36. Tonya Root says:

    Wow…some really good poems for this prompt! And some hateful ones, too. I just had to respond.

    Where Is The Love?

    There is no connection
    in my brain to comprehend
    just why so much odium
    is sent toward one man.
    For sure he is not perfect
    and of us not one is,
    but the vitriol that gets
    sent his way is just
    beyond my understanding.
    There is much that I
    do not agree with done by
    red and blue alike. I voice
    my opinion and join in the debate.
    But I can’t identify with
    those who spew such hate.
    I guess that between those
    folks and me and where I am
    there is no connection.

  37. Maureen says:

    THERE IS NO CONNECTION

    “Don’t be so stupid –
    there is no connection
    between butterflies
    and typhoons,”
    she exclaimed.
    The child went quiet
    and hung his head.
    A great sadness
    fell on the school
    after that
    and things
    were never the same.

    Maureen Sexton

  38. Tonya Root says:

    The Two Mes

    I used to
    eat
    drink
    dance
    sing
    read
    write
    laugh
    and be merry.
    I visited Paris
    and Venice.
    I watched
    the sun set
    over an
    Egyptian
    pyramid
    and dove
    for pirate
    treasure.
    I had it all –
    all that my
    credit cards
    could buy.
    And I was
    alone.

    Now I
    eat
    drink
    dance
    sing
    read
    write
    laugh
    and am merry.
    I visit
    local lakes
    and rivers.
    I watch
    sunsets on my
    back porch
    and cherish
    my treasures.
    I don’t have
    much, but I
    have it all.
    He holds me
    tight
    each night
    and she
    fills my days
    with laughter
    and song.

    There is no connection
    between the old me
    and the new me
    and that’s fine with me.

  39. Jacquie Wareham says:

    Even then

    Even when there is no connection
    Even when it rains like slate
    Even when you can’t smell anything
    Even when your legs stop working
    Even when you can’t find work
    Even when someone you love dies
    Even when you loose a favorite earring
    Even when you can’t breathe
    Even when your car breaks down
    Even when someone is mad at you
    Even when the fridge is empty
    Even when the birds wake you at four AM
    Even when people are rude
    Even when you have a headache for three days
    Even when
    Even then
    beauty suffuses every molecule
    Even then
    your smile restores me.

    April 20, 2008
    Jacquie Wareham
    Poem-a-Day Challenge
    Day 18

  40. Shana says:

    One is always busy, always scheming, always plotting, always wondering
    The other is always feeling, always wanting, always yearning, always near overflowing
    Where is the connection?

    One has intelligence and logic about right and wrong
    The other, senses, intuits, believes
    Which to follow?

    One allows dreams, but knows plausible from not
    The other allows herself to believe in dreams and gets caught building upon them
    Or is it the other way around?

    One knows what it should want, and has good data
    The other wants what it wants, and has no data
    Could there be a connecting passageway?
    Please?

    One is always clicking away
    Analyzing, wondering, doubting
    Smart and hard and careful
    The other is always beating
    Reaching, questing, wanting
    Romantic and full and trusting

    There is no connection
    between this mind and heart
    I want to say,
    I sometimes
    think
    feel
    and
    believe

    But of course that can’t be true
    It just feels like it,
    sometimes

  41. Diane says:

    Through the day I send out messages
    "Do your school work; do your chores"
    but there is no connection.
    "Please clean your room; take out the garbage"
    still there’s no connection.
    But one message has success–
    "It’s time to eat!"

    (Ok, sometimes I just have to come up with SOMETHING. :-)

  42. Jolanta Laurinaitis says:

    There is no connection
    Between the way
    You said you felt
    And loved me
    And the way
    You treated me
    And hurt me
    No connection
    Between the words
    And the pushing
    Between the kisses
    And the rage

  43. maeve63 says:

    Labeling mailing envelopes to the elderly
    Pasta and sausage with vegetables
    Children out of school
    Grocery Store
    Baking Italian Cheese Bread
    League of Women Voters
    Cleaning up vomit

    Connection?
    There is no connection.
    Connection is illusory.
    Connection is what you make it.
    Bringing it all together
    to create
    a full day.

  44. anne says:

    Intersection

    Walking my dog yesterday
    I intersected an old acquaintance on the street
    My big dog comfortable in his shaggy skin
    running free
    Hers, a finely clipped and pedicured daschund
    Yipping and straining on a leather leash.
    She, sporting a ridiculous fur jacket;
    I in my plebian hooded sweatshirt
    Smiled a brief hello
    and suffered a flash back
    to a dinner party with filet and crystal
    coffee with silver tea service and petit fours
    And once she came to our house
    Dropped in and caught my hide-a-bed
    down with rumpled sheets and blankets
    There was no connection
    There never was.

  45. I think this one needs some editing, but I love the concept… so here goes!

    Special Information Tone

    I learned the annoying, ear-piercing,
    three-toned chime that sounds on the phone
    when there is no connection,
    is called a SIT code.
    Three sharp pings, aptly called
    SIT, command the listener
    to wait for special information.
    But those three notes, the ones I hear
    several times a day, always
    make me jump.

    I hang-up before hearing the message—
    I already know the number is disconnected
    because you no longer live there.
    And you didn’t tell me goodbye
    because there is no longer a connection
    between you and me.

  46. Sarah says:

    Not wild about this. I have tried many times to write poems about this particular friend, and I’ve never been satisfied with any of them. Some people are just too complex to capture adequately.

    Meredith

    She came from a world
    with dew still on it.
    She is, quite simply, lovely.
    Smart people compare her to Julia Stiles.
    The idiots say, "Doesn’t she look
    a little bit like Martha Stewart?"
    The truth is, she could
    take Martha Stewart to school
    and teach her a few things
    about home decor and hospitality
    and staying out of jail.
    There is no connection
    between us anymore.
    I don’t look like anyone
    except my friend Audrey’s sister,
    with longer legs.

  47. Disconnect

    You think if you smile
    you’ll make people happy?
    There is no connection.
    You think hard work
    equals success?
    There is no connection.
    You think love
    equals happiness?
    There is no connection.

    We are like pennants in the wind.
    blown to shreds by the hurricane of fate,
    not the mast,
    the victim.
    Offer your open hand
    Take your blows
    End your days in silent sacrifice
    There is no
    connection.

  48. Jane Penland Hoover says:

    At Two

    My father sailing in
    Japanese deep waters
    Had left us
    At his parent’s house

    Each night my mother
    Coming late to bed
    Thinking her small girl
    Sleeping
    My mother sobbed
    Stuffed pain into her pillow
    For her fear for him
    And all whose names
    She typed that day
    Western Union telegrams
    To each family
    Abbreviated by this news

    My mother says
    “You can’t remember
    You were only two.”

    And yet I think I hear
    A family whispering
    Words of scripture
    Their voices singing prayer
    “Care for Sailors
    Tossing on blue seas.”
    Remember
    My mother slipping in
    Close enough
    I stretch my too short arm
    Longing for us all
    I think

    ©Jane Penland Hoover
    April 19, 2008

  49. Bonnie says:

    THERE IS NO CONNECTION

    Disjointed, dispirited, dislodged
    I feel like I am drifting above the room
    The faces around me seem familiar,
    But their names I no longer recall
    They smile expecting my smile in return
    They make small talk
    But I tire of the incessant trivial chatter
    Why did I come here
    When I would rather be alone
    I leave without saying a word
    There is nothing to hold my attention
    There is no connection

  50. Earl Parsons says:

    Sorry for being late. I just made a 1200 mile round trip to get our grandson for a week and couldn’t write and drive at the same time.

    No Connection

    So you think you can make it
    On your deeds or desires
    On how you behave
    Or what you do for others
    By going out blazing
    Taking the enemy with you
    Or how many you convince
    That your way is true
    So you think you can make
    To eternity on high
    Or has Satan convinced you
    If he has, it’s just a lie
    ‘Cause there is no connection
    No way to pass on through
    There is no connection
    No matter what you do
    No, there is no connection
    To eternity and the Lord
    There is no connection
    Without the Truth, the Life, the Word
    Christ is that connection
    The Bible tells me so
    Jesus is the only Way
    By faith, this fact I know
    Make the connection

  51. HMPH!

    How she laughed!
    For her there is no connection
    between this old chick, her stepmother,
    and sexuality.

    She has never witnessed me
    as dazzling performance poet
    or High Priestess of a coven.

    Hell, she’s never even
    seen me dance. Well,
    not since the wedding,
    and that was fifteen years ago.

    I’m married to her Dad,
    quite a bit older than me
    and getting older. She equates us.

    So when I confessed I fancied a man
    23 years younger, she collapsed in hilarity.
    I don’t see what the problem is.
    Doesn’t every

    red-blooded heterosexual woman
    aged between nine and ninety
    adore Captain Jack Sparrow?

    © Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2008

  52. Vanessa O'Dwyer says:

    PUT IT TOGETHER

    There is no connection
    During an election
    From what they say
    To what they’ll do.

    There is no connection
    But driving perfection
    In getting votes
    That come undue.

    There is no connection
    With dearth of selection
    And random choosing
    Without a clue.

    So what will they do
    From office undue
    Leading people without a clue?

    Where is the connection?
    There is no connection.

  53. Lori says:

    Apparently I lost my connection with grammar yesterday as well. Here is my revised poem;

    There is no connection
    between my muse and me,
    all thoughts of verse
    are just floating free,
    sailing in the sunshine
    and the music of the day,
    I just sit here and stare
    in a rather disconnected way.
    A quite forlorn goodbye
    I’m afraid there must be,
    there is no connection
    between my muse and me.

  54. JL Smither says:

    On April 18, 2008, at 11:22 a.m. EST

    In Rio de Janeiro,
    a pregnant woman throws up
    for the second time today.

    In Perth,
    unable to sleep, a boy watches rain drops
    snake down his bedroom window.

    In Cambridge,
    two teenage girls kiss
    under a blooming dogwood for the first time.

    In Palo Alto,
    a computer crashes as a student
    tries to save the final version of her thesis.

    In Cairo,
    a woman cleans her kitchen
    in preparation for her mother-in-law’s visit.

    In Bucharest,
    a man on a bicycle is knocked into a ditch
    by a small truck that doesn’t stop.

    In Kawagoe,
    a man holds his granddaughter in his arms
    and feeds her a bottle of milk.

    In Reykjavik,
    an old woman dies while drinking her afternoon tea,
    which spills across the front of her blouse.

    There is no connection.

  55. There is no connection

    I enter the room. You leave.
    There is no connection.
    I tell a joke. You don’t laugh.
    There is no connection.
    I smile at you. You avert your eyes.
    There is no connection.
    I give you chocolate. You plead diet.
    There is no connection.
    I offer my hand. You clench your fist.
    There is no connection.
    Together, we could be special.
    But, there is no connection.

  56. Darla Smith says:

    There Is No Connection Between Us

    There is no connection between us,
    I don’t love you any longer.
    You’ve destroyed all of my trust,
    with your cruel and uncaring words.

    There is no connection between us,
    I can’t stand your attitude.
    You’re trying to rule my entire life,
    and I won’t take it anymore.

    There is no connection between us,
    our relationship is over.
    I’ve found myself a brand new lover,
    one who will treat me better.

  57. I just want to say really great poems from yesterday’s challenge. I always look forward to reading all that you guys have written.

  58. Rodney C. Walmer says:

    No Connection

    A dog walks
    a baby talks
    grass grows
    a horn blows
    leave’s fly
    a baby cries
    a cat meows
    he feeds cows
    with great affection
    there is no connection. . .

    Rodney C. Walmer and Mari Beth Walmer 4/19/08 Co-written with my 12 year old daughter.

  59. Devon Brenner says:

    NO CONNECTION, NONE WHATSOEVER, BETWEEN MY REALITY AND THE REAL WORLD

    At Dave’s Dark Horse Tavern
    I sent a smoldering look
    over my shoulder
    to the pool players
    ogling me as I walked past
    with my gin and tonic,
    my knee-high boots.
    They were watching the game on the TV.

    The 23-year-old from the party, the one
    with the clove cigarettes, does not know my name.
    I expect him to call any minute now.

    Yesterday,
    I pulled up to the four-way stop
    And waited for the light to change.

  60. Gratia Karmes says:

    No Connection–4/17/08

    Here is a secret…I am in love
    with my own poems.

    Today I am rushing
    ..miles to travel before I dance…
    Me and Robert Frost, we’re so alike
    you know

    And I am really hoping
    there is no connection
    between the time spent on a poem
    and its quality.

  61. Rodney C. Walmer says:

    Disconnections

    A dog walks across the street
    A mile away
    an infant discovers his feet
    another day
    two lovers meet
    they hide away
    just to be discreet
    in every case
    a different direction
    however, there is no connection. . .

    Rodney C. Walmer 4/19/08 I read something interesting in another’s poem, and this came to me.

  62. Essa Bostone says:

    had a good read of these "No Connection" poems. Some of them are stunners…really good stuff. I add my thanks to you Robert…such an opportunity to be on the same wall with great writers.

  63. Rodney C. Walmer says:

    Awakenings

    He stepped out into the sunset
    he’d just awoken from a sleep
    and a dream he’d soon forget
    Some memories just don’t keep

    Darkness, would soon begin to fall
    the sounds of the night
    would soon begin to call
    He wondered, would it be alright?
    He just did not know, not at all

    He thought about her
    her intoxicating scent
    He began to wonder
    what was her intent
    He needed her affection
    but, in truth,
    he knew she felt no connection. . .

    ©Rodney C. Walmer 4/19/08 I know a day late but it just came to me, just now. It kind of fits
    yesterday 4/18/08 and 4/17/08’s prompt’s together.

  64. Carol ,Amherst Mass says:

    Thoughts versus Truth

    I breathe in
    I breathe out
    That is all
    I need to know
    What should I Wear Today?
    There is no connection

    I breathe in
    I breathe out
    I focus on
    The present moment
    That plane is loud
    There is no connection

    I went to college
    I got my degree
    I am learnt
    What I know
    And what is
    There is no connection

    I am writing my poem
    I know I am
    writing my poem
    A cabinet door slams
    There is no connection

    I breathe in
    I breathe out
    That is all
    I need to know
    What if I
    Lose my job?
    There is no connection

  65. Rodney C. Walmer says:

    Wow, Nancy, you did your time. I am teaching 18 years in JHS.
    Sadly, I used to love it, but now I just can’t wait to retire. Too many things have changed, the system has literally taken the joy out of teaching. It’s just crazy here. No parental support whatsoever, administration is afraid of parents, so the kids who are very savvy as you probably already know, have found ways to milk the system while doing absolutely nothing in class at all. That is, except to be disruptive. The saddest thing is, that with all the millions and millions that are put into educational programs, no one has put any research or money’s into a way to just pull out the disruptive child. When I started, I thought I would change the world, now I am just hoping to make it to retirement. Another 8 years to go.

    Rod.

  66. Shirley T. says:

    Disconnection

    She sits alone staring
    Through the fly-specked glass,
    Rheumy eyes seeking nothing,
    Oblivious even to the dripping
    Strands of gray that scatter like
    Dead leaves about her ashy cheeks,
    The spittle seeping from cracked lips,
    Pooling on her collar.
    There is no connection here
    To that vibrant auburn beauty
    Who once danced all night at the
    Wild Side Lounge, stopping only to
    Do a number or two with the band.

    He also sits not far away,
    Flannel-wrapped bones crumpled
    In a wheelchair, before the tank
    Of multi-colored fish, watching
    Them dart and play fish tag amid
    The rocks and waving greenery,
    While his breath keeps time with the
    Aquarium pump, wet bubbles gurgling
    To the surface in feeble bursts.
    There is no connection
    With the cheeky, chuckling salesman,
    Who was tops in his region three years
    Running, always with a cigar for his fellows,
    A candy for the ladies and jokes all around.

    The couple on the corner sofa sit
    Close, gnarled hands clasped, thin
    Pale smiles slitting their papery faces
    As they listen to a memory on the radio
    And believe the war is over now,
    The boys are coming home.
    There is no connection
    To the three children they raised
    With delight and sacrifice, who never come,
    As busy with their grown lives
    As their parents were with them.

    So many more like these, here,
    Places like here, enclosed in small worlds
    Where there is no connection,
    Not with past joys nor future hopes;
    There is no connection,
    Only floating on the disjointed hours
    Of passing time.
    ###

    Shirley T

  67. Alfred J Bruey says:

    The Couples (#18)

    Couple 1 met on top
    of the mountain. It was summer
    but the air was cool.
    Couple 2 met in the valley.
    It was winter but
    the air was warm.
    There is no connection
    between winter and summer.
    There is no connection
    between the top of the mountain
    and the bottom of the valley.
    The two members of Couple 1
    have connected with each other.
    The two members of Couple 2
    Have connected with each other.
    But there is no connection
    between Couple 1 and Couple 2.

  68. Virginia Snowden says:

    4/18/08 –

    For You and For Me

    For you and for me,
    There is no connection
    So very sorry, but the end is near
    The time has come for us to say goodbye
    The ride has stopped, it was such a high

    For you and for me,
    The time was too short
    The beginning left too fast and the end would not move a little slower
    Oh how I will miss every inch of this place
    The fun, the love, the passion, what a taste

    For you and for me,
    Life was simple too short…

  69. Brownstones

    You used to be able to play outside till dark
    And run over to Stacy’s without the light
    In your eye and the Inquisition
    Stay within the neighborhood, a good five blocks
    Be home by dusk, dinner on the wind
    And your friend’s voice fading with the light

    Now you’re seldom outside at all
    And Brianna’s at home like you, on the headset
    Of her XBox, her mom’s at work, too
    Stay in the house, there’s food in the fridge
    You’re home before dusk, you never left
    And your friend’s voice fades on the headset

    I know you think there is no connection
    Between kids these days, between us and them
    But the very fact that there is an
    Us and Them
    Is everything

  70. Short Changed

    Ellen’s final paper for Creative Writing l0l was due in a couple of hours. She’d been up all night working on it which was nothing new. It was something she had done for years and would continue to do if that’s what it took—to write damn it! For a moment she was reminded of A Few Figs from Thistles, by Edna St. Vincent Millay and the famous line “My candle burns at both ends.”

    Sunlight was beginning to shine through the stained glass windows of her living room, reflecting soft colors on its walls. The house a la 1920s wasn’t like her middle class friends, but in a more commercial district. And that was just fine. It made her feel more independent and gave her a taste of big city life while living in small town middle America.

    “Just need to revise something here,” she said. “Phew! Am I glad I found that typo.
    Instead of the line “there’s a connection between the two writers’ work”—it should be “there’s no connection….”

  71. No Connection

    But for the weekly calls
    on Sunday mornings
    there is no connection
    between this generation
    and the last
    and this connection
    is barely enough to satisfy
    the mother’s knowing
    that it is the daughter’s role
    to make the call, and
    the daughter’s knowing
    that her mother time
    will be the same.

  72. Glasses: Half-Empty or Half-Full?

    To that cute blonde grade school girl
    surrounded by all the little boys
    who wanted to sit with her
    at the sweetheart chairs and table
    enjoying chocolate iced cupcakes and tiny cartons of
    milk during the tour of Hostess Bakery—
    there is no connection—to—the sad girl one year
    later, newly martyred with glasses, status and security stolen
    by thick lens and pink sparkly frames that promoted
    Four-Eyes quips from the same little boys and now the girls,
    too, glad that the princess no longer owned the throne—there is
    no connection—to—the college girl who felt that wearing contact
    lens reclaimed her attractiveness and
    appeal and decided she was not bad looking
    at that—there is no connection—to—the woman,
    divorced with three kids, who said
    "Too much trouble" and just wore the damned
    glasses. And (connection!) was grateful to be
    able to see.

  73. Cara Alson says:

    Robert, what do you eat before retiring for the night that inspires such flavorful, maddening prompts? What sacrifices for poetry! (0:

    #18

    there is no connection…

    it’s a coincidence, I’m sure
    there’s no reason to believe
    they have anything to do
    with each other

    there is no connection

    it’s the weather, the season
    a fluke, that’s all
    many times the words
    just seem to f l o w

    there is no connection

    it’s only an exercise
    a different way for me
    a given suggestion
    followed by a steady s t r e a m

    ther is no connection

    I used to struggle with
    each word or phrase
    a constant critic nagged
    twisted my poor brain

    there is no connection

    this time it’s different
    I buzz with activity
    don’t worry about the end
    just send off the first flame

    there is no connection

    no editor in my head
    nagging for perfection
    I have permission now
    to soar like never before

    but
    I’m sure
    almost sure
    there is no connection

    * And if you believe that, I have a bridge for sale!

  74. Sally DiUlus says:

    Oh my Gosh, My poem is dated in 2009, now there is a twist! In that moment I saw 2009, erased it and sent and Heavens to Betsy, it stayed 2009! That is pretty cool!

  75. Karen says:

    I want to add my best wishes and prayers for Elizabeth’s speedy recovery. We miss you here!

    Also, I say a prayer of thanks that no one (at least I haven’t heard) was seriously injured or killed in the earthquake in the Midwest. We are thinking of you, knowing that must have been frightening.

  76. Sally DiUlus says:

    I just wanted to comment that the poems today seem so phenomenal!

  77. Sheryl Kay Oder says:

    Looking for a Connection

    I’m glad it cannot
    be said of us poets,
    “There is no connection.”

    Of course, some days
    Each one of us thinks,
    “Muse, there is no connection.”

    When we think of the synapses
    of our brains
    we long for a connection.

    And soon we take
    paper, pencil, or pen
    and there is a connection.

    Then we place our poems
    on our computer
    and hope for a connection.

  78. Sally DiUlus says:

    PAD Challenge Day #18

    “FOUR SIMPLE WORDS:
    Robert Lee Brewer’s Quote”©
    April 18, 2009

    I Failed
    Today
    No matter
    How often
    I sat down
    To write today’s
    Poem
    Nothing
    Spectacular
    Came to
    Me
    Rambling
    Straggling
    Pieces
    Poem
    I only
    Understand
    Between
    Me and
    It
    “There is no connection.”
    Sally DiUlus sdiulus@cefe.org

  79. Karen says:

    4-18-08

    Connection

    Our son doesn’t answer, it goes straight to voicemail.
    There is no connection.
    He has an audition, no, a callback from something he auditioned for
    Several months ago.
    Finally one of us reaches him, I forget which of us,
    And he’s cool with everything.
    Even though we’re out of town
    And he can’t get the printer to give him directions
    Much less decipher what to do with Mapquest.
    So his patient dad faxes him the directions, plus his sides*,
    I looked up and emailed to my husband’s office.
    A long while after his audition should be over,
    He gives us a ring.
    “I just got finished. They kept me and had me read
    With every other guy who came in.
    They liked me.
    It went great.
    I’ll be surprised if
    I didn’t get the part.”
    There was a connection.
    Text message this morning as we drove home in separate cars,
    To each of our phones:
    I got the part.
    Connected.

    *script for an audition

  80. Anahbird says:

    All Too Comfortable

    Death sits on the stone wall
    All too comfortable
    Watching
    As you go about your daily chores
    Every once in a while
    He stands
    Stretches
    And leads
    One of your friends away
    But always returns
    To watch
    To wait
    A presence
    So constant
    Ever so consistent
    That you become
    All too comfortable
    In his presence
    And there is no connection
    Between death and his presence
    Anymore…

  81. A.C. Leming says:

    I did write this longhand before midnite, but my typing skills leave me lagging sometimes… May is revision month, may it come soon.

    Mr President

    Mr. President, evidently there is no connection between reality and your perception of it. What world do you inhabit, one where every soul awaits your majestic decree to move from white to black? Has the rabbit come through dragging Alice to the palace to aggrivate the Queen? And have you turned a blind eye to her fate? Have you had your little green pill, the one which shrinks your pupils down to nuthin’ so you can ignore the interrigator’s light shining in your eyes? Have you surrounded yourself with sycophants? And taken their advice, leading the country on a ride to recession in your hellacious handbasket, no matter how much wishful thinking to the contrary? Evidently, reality has no connection between your ears, no recognition of truth, just your bizzare oil induced hallucinations which have no place in the oval office.

  82. Omavi says:

    “Sorry, The Number You Dialed Has Been Disconnected …”

    Talking
    Thinking
    Standing
    Walking
    Laughing
    Crying
    Hurting
    Rejoicing
    Writing
    Reding
    Jumping
    Kneeling
    Breathing
    Drowning
    Living
    Dying

    So many things that are opposite
    So many things that may be similar still
    So many ways to look at a class of water
    Half empty
    Or half full if that’s the way your inclined to think
    So many paths through this maze
    So many wrong turns
    That being right
    May be just a dream and maybe not
    Maybe reality is really the fantasy
    Of an omnipotent snot-nose kid

    So many contradictions
    So many feelings, actions, ways to be
    So many lives are lost
    Simply trying to figure how is the right way
    To play this game
    So many means
    And methods are a dime-a-dozen
    Whew
    I’m weary from inactivity
    Ain’t the contradiction that tops all
    Contradictory things

    And maybe
    There is no connection
    Wouldn’t it be funny
    If the phone lines to God
    Were all dead
    And we have to deal with these contradictions equally
    To truly understand what it is to live

  83. Carol Brian says:

    If

    If the boss asks
    why no one is here
    on this first glorious day
    of spring when the birds
    are singing and the kites are
    calling and the basketballs
    are rebounding off the backboard,

    tell him there is no connection.

    Carol Brian

  84. Emily Blakely says:

    Three shorts of no connection

    There is no connection
    between love and hate–
    is there?

    Laughter or tears
    there is no connection–
    or is there, sometimes?

    A glass half-full
    a glass half-empty–
    there is no connection?

  85. Essa Bostone says:

    Well this might show up as a duplicate sorry about that
    there is definitely a monkey on my computer

    THERE IS NO CONNECTION
    Wires crossed
    Double-back
    Lost in the woods
    Off the beaten track

    Missed a deadline
    Then I missed two
    Found my socks
    But only one shoe

    All tied up
    Nothing makes sense
    As I grow older
    I only grow dense

    Thoughts like putty or feathers
    Confection
    I hooked up my brain
    But there is no connection!

  86. Essa Bostone says:

    Twisted

    I wracked my brain
    I culled my thoughts
    I worried, paced and fumed
    To write a poem to go with this prompt
    I ended up consumed

    It’s not that it’s not interesting
    I think it would be fun
    To write a poem that turns around
    And gets ya when it’s done

    If it makes you sit right up and think
    That writer knows some tricks
    She’s got a way of coming ‘round
    And shaking up the mix

    But instead of something witty
    Ol’ “Musa” didn’t try
    Effectively put a gag on me
    My word river just ran dry

    I’m left with just this ranting
    Wanting to succeed
    30 poems for April
    That is all I need

    But I keep writing line on line
    Till my fingers start to ache
    Maybe I need another hobby
    I give up; I’ll go and bake

    Maybe she will help me
    If I beg on bended knee
    There’s nothing here that’s twisted
    Except for poor old me

  87. M J Dills says:

    Wow, some amazing poetry today. Thank you all for sharing. Hope Elizabeth is having a comfortable recovery. And, Monica, hope you are feeling safer now.

  88. satia says:

    I’ve had too much to drink
    kissed you too deep
    there is no connection

    but here and now your eyes
    are deep as well
    and falling is easy

    what regrets do you have?
    will I be another?
    there is no connection

    we’ve known one another
    for so damn long
    and falling is so easy

    you are familiar and
    I knowthe truth–
    there is no connection

    it’s just hte wine and you
    no tomorrow
    and falling is so easy

  89. Lyn Sedwick says:

    All In A Day’s Work

    That’s right, it looks like there’s
    A pituitary tumor on your scan.
    No, there is no connection to
    Your using hormones…no, not
    To birth control pills either.
    What’s that? No, there is no connection
    To your diabetes or your bad auto
    Accident last year. That’s true, it is
    A brain tumor but your husband is wrong
    About that–there is no connection to your
    Drinking soda out of aluminum cans. Yes?
    Well that’s an interesting thought but no,
    There is no connection to your daughter’s
    Thyroid condition, or your mother’s
    Breast cancer. OK? No connection, that’s
    Right, there is no connection to your headaches
    Either. Call my office tomorrow and we‘ll
    Make you an appointment with a neuro-surgeon.
    What? No there isn’t anything else for now
    (except there is no connection we know of
    To any of these things, but I don’t want to
    Spend 20 minutes more explaining that).

    Lyn Sedwick

  90. Proximity

    I’m walking down French Road
    and I see a familiar vista –
    up there, to the south of me,
    a miniature mountain rises
    (we Uticans call it Crow Hill),
    a mountain crowned with trees,
    four of which stand out
    like the straight spikes
    of a truncated stegosaur.

    There is no connection
    between them and the rest
    of the little oak forest
    that’s been standing there
    for a hundred years or more.
    It’s like something sudden
    and completely unplanned –
    like a wicked windstorm,
    or a minute meteor,
    or an errant bulldozer –
    just so happened to pass
    through that small space
    and thus forever changed
    that fractional footage
    of Oneida County landscape.

    Whatever it was, it left
    the dwellers of this valley
    with a place that radiates
    that sort of bizarre beauty
    that throws the futile
    humdrum claptrap of life
    into relief and makes you say,
    "Well, I guess maybe things
    aren’t so awful after all"
    as you look up at those four trees,
    thinking of how close they might be.

  91. Rodney C. Walmer says:

    With Respect to Jeanette.

    Here’s my take on the no connection theme used in a great poem I read by Jeanette.

    No Lost Sleep Over It

    I woke early in the night,
    just could not sleep
    certainly did not feel right
    started thinking about
    thoughts that were too deep
    decided not to go out
    did not like the idea
    of counting sheep

    It was about then
    that I decided upon IRC
    and a chat, I would like again
    with a beauty queen
    if only she were still free
    I could invite her to a place
    where the grass is green
    but, only if I saw her face
    as it was sight unseen

    Now you have to understand
    I was up, and ready
    I had myself a great plan
    which I anticipated
    with great affection
    soon I would have her dated
    and looking in my direction
    when to my surprise
    as I went to log on
    right before my eyes
    it simply read
    There is no connection. . .

    ©Rodney C. Walmer 4/18/08 Inspired by Jeanette’s poem “My DVD”

  92. Phyllis Elswick says:

    There is no connection

    What are you talking about?
    There is no connection.
    No connection what so ever
    You say one thing, but mean another
    There is no connection in what
    You are saying, and what you are doing
    How can we connect when there is no connection.

  93. Dear Robert, I think your own poem today is very good! I ‘m sure others are too, as always, but not stopping to read further just yet. Will write mine later

  94. Linda says:

    High Definition

    This mobius strip –
    band of gold –
    eternally
    binds
    me,
    you,
    our love
    for all time.
    So we once swore.
    But looking through
    the empty center
    to you, pixils
    flickering
    in the
    dark,
    vacant
    eyes turned
    toward plasma
    brighter than life,
    I understand: there
    is no connection
    anymore.


    Great prompt – provacative. Phenomenal poems here. Hope all are well, especially Elizabeth! Peace, Linda

  95. Bruce Niedt says:

    Detour

    There is no connection I can make between
    my life today and any poem I could write.
    I ponder my futility, compounded
    as frustration mounts in traffic, and I curse
    the blight of orange signs and cones like some
    insidious blooms that have sprung up, as in
    each April I remember. We run the gauntlet,
    futile in attempts to reach point B from A
    sans detour. There is no connection unbesmirched
    by holes, or broken asphalt, yellow tractors,
    flagmen waving traffic like conductors.
    Our vehicles accumulate like logjammed words
    that wait for some release, a paving of the way
    that smooths the ride, facilitates the thoroughfare,
    gets us to flow again, two lanes of passing,
    our destination clear, horizons within reach.

  96. Jeanette J. McAdoo says:

    MY DVD

    I wanted to relax and watch TV,
    But couldn’t find anything good.
    It was late a glass of wine and me,
    Made it through the day didn’t think I could.

    Decided to watch a DVD instead,
    I went in the wrong direction.
    My DVD player seemed to be dead,
    Instead there is no connection.

  97. Sue Bench says:

    No Connection

    There is no connection
    between her feelings
    and her real life.

    She feels sad, alone,
    depressed and unloved.

    The reality, however is
    that she is loved by
    family and friends.
    She has a nice house,
    her own car, lots of books.
    She grows a lovely garden
    in her courtyard.
    A lake sparkles out front
    and birds sing all day.

    But chemicals in her brain
    have gone awry.
    They cause her pain
    and oppression.

    She takes her meds,
    goes for walks,
    plays music, reads,
    and invites friends over.
    Only then does she feel connected
    Only then can she truly live
    the reality of her life.

  98. Jeanette J. McAdoo says:

    MY DVD

    I wanted to relax and watch TV,
    But couldn’t find anything good.
    It was late a glass of wine and me,
    Made it through the day didn’t think I could.

    Decided to watch a DVD instead,
    I went in the wrong direction.
    My DVD player seemed to be dead,
    Instead there was no connection.

  99. Sara McNulty says:

    Where are you?

    Where are you, you well-dressed dependable
    Man? Remember when you played handball
    In the school park, mitt hitting the black ball
    Against the concrete wall? Sweat poured down
    Your forehead, trickled down your face and pooled
    In the hollow of your neck.

    Where are you, you the best swimmer in
    The neighborhood? Remember when you
    Taught me to swim at the age of three,
    Reminding me to keep my hands cupped
    And kick my feet to slice through the water
    Effortlessly like a fish?

    That’s not you. Your face feels like parchment,
    Your frame so frail, bent over your cane with
    The pain of crippling arthritis. I look at you
    Dad and see the sadness sweep over your
    Face when you cannot get up on your own.
    There is no connection between youth and old age.

  100. Justin Evans says:

    Even Teachers Get to Have Fun Sometimes
    —————————————

    Today in class one of my students, not
    knowing how to start an English essay asked,
    How is the past an indicator of the future?

    I am a history teacher, and as you know,
    teachers know everything. We have no life
    outside of school. In fact, some of us
    live in our classrooms, pulling our Murphy beds
    from beneath the chalkboard, shower up
    in the denizens of the faculty lounge. Her logic
    in asking me was, shall we say, inspired.

    Trying to act the clown, or just to see her face
    I replied as straight as I could, There is no
    connection, no way to tell from one day to the next
    what is going to happen. I pause before adding,
    Haven’t you ever heard of Chaos Theory?

    This is the part I always like best, when they
    ask themselves if they heard me right, decide
    if they can trust what I have told them.

    Sometimes, they catch on right away, think back
    to the beginning of the year when I told them
    about Heraclitus, how you can never step
    into the same river twice, how all things
    are connected. Then their smile comes
    and they know the real answer is yet to come.

    That’s when I know I have them, know when
    they are going to really listen, give this whole
    school thing at least one more shot, let in
    just a little more light into the cave and
    dust down the shelves of their minds.

    ______________________

  101. There is no connection

    There is no connection
    between intelligence and
    performance. Think of Einstein
    who failed math and the
    orator who cannot write
    a word. Or the child who
    knows all the answers in
    class and can’t pass a test.

    We once connected like
    plus and minus magnets
    unable to pull ourselves
    apart and full of passion
    to the brim wanting only
    each other and so it is
    strange that now when
    we know each other so
    well there is no connection
    when you glance my way.

    Young women and men
    roam bars and night clubs
    in pursuit of their dream
    man or woman and they
    hope that the one they
    choose that night will be
    the one after all the sweat
    and function is done and
    they lay next to each other.

    But they are two strangers
    still.
    There is no connection.

  102. Iain D. Kemp says:

    Lost

    The dark past engulfs me and I can no longer recall
    the reason for being here my mind full of ancient horror stories,
    all reason gone no hopes no dreams just nightmares from long ago that haunt every waking sleeping moment drowning me in a never-ending cascade of pain and memory that will not relinquish its throat crushing grip on the tatters of what once my mind, my soul, I search vainly, vaguely for some clue some shred of evidence that I am really here that tomorrow will really come but all is lost there is no more the insanity is complete and so I weep for the touch of reality but…

    There is no connection…

    Not any more.

  103. Carla Cherry says:

    Untied

    A girl breaks a mirror,
    drags the shards shallowly
    against her wrist.

    There is no connection.

    She lays in
    her hospital room,
    aside the bassinet of her
    newborn son.
    Down the hall,
    laughing
    husbands and wives
    clink glasses
    brimming with bubbly.

    As she swallows her dinner
    her vision is a watery blur
    and the food tastes like brine.

    There is no connection.

    Chubby-cheeked toddler
    licks his ice cream cone.
    His mother sees the
    milky dribble slide down
    his smiling face.
    She kicks him,
    yells
    you’re so motherf#@$%^^ stupid!

    There is no connection.

    Years later
    son leaves space
    for father’s name
    blank.

    There is no connection.

  104. Jane Penland Hoover says:

    Rhythmic Moves

    The drone of the plane high above
    Moving over, heading toward home
    Or away, maybe never to return pass
    Again my squinting stare where I now
    In the fading sounds drift back to
    Times we, seated side by side relaxed
    Belted into cushioned padded seats
    Rode into days of working strategy
    Making speeches, dancing into
    Nights of throbbing music, leaning
    Forward now tonight with the thought
    Of you close enough for me to hear
    Your measured breathing
    Though
    There is no reality
    There is no connection
    Nothing physical available
    No smell or touch, nothing anyone can see
    There is only you, present intensity alive
    Within the pulsing of my longing skin.

    Jane Penland Hoover
    April 18, 2008

  105. Corinne says:

    It was me, I know it,
    lying mute in that hospital bed, defying
    medication and not trusting anyone,
    whose face they shone a flashlight on every
    hour on the hour through the nights
    until I discharged myself on my own recognizance.
    My husband, the only time he came to visit me in the whole
    ten days, head
    hung in his hands, saying, “I know I’m the reason you’re in here.”

    And it is me now, I know it,
    blessedly free of the depression, and
    no longer
    drawn like moth to the flame
    to all things abusive.
    Unshackled, joyous in spirit,
    the inch by inch climb (by fingernails alone
    some days)
    has been well worth it, I could never
    have imagined the exquisite taste of happiness.

    And though there is an honoured pulse between that she and me,
    beyond time and space,
    that I bow deeply to in reverence and gratitude, in another way,
    there is no connection.

  106. Nancy says:

    Rodney, I teach English at the community college after 17 years in high school. I was fortunate my last couple of years there to have a room next to a calculus teacher who had her students to write poems using the diction of math to talk about other things.

  107. Kimberly K says:

    There is no connection.
    The line is dead.
    No dial tone.
    Dead.

    There is no way out.
    The doors, locked.
    No keys.
    Closed.

    There is no change.
    The bottle, ready.
    Glass empty.
    Pour.

    There is no choice.
    The glass in hand.
    Can’t stop.
    Drink.

    There is no connection

  108. Cheryl Wray says:

    Iris and Debra–
    Bama gal here too. Roll Tide!! (I think I need to write a football poem now too!)

  109. Lori says:

    There is no connection
    between my muse and I,
    as all thoughts of
    rhyme and/or verse die.
    Slowly suffocated by sunshine
    and the music of the day,
    I just sit here and stare
    in a rather disconnected way.
    For today, I must say
    a quite forlorn goodbye-
    there is no connection
    between my muse and I.

  110. patti williams says:

    Marcus – good stuff!

  111. Beth Browne says:

    A Thought

    Blue sky, acid rain.
    White sand beach, oil slick.
    Mayfly, muddy water.
    Poisoned wells, household chemicals.
    Fish kill, industrial waste.
    Low prices, sweatshops.
    Economic stimulus, war machine.
    Interstate highways, gas prices.
    Round-up ready, endangered species.
    Earth Day, global warming.
    There is no connection.

  112. Essa Bostone says:

    First of all belated good wishes to you Elizabeth. Hope everything went well and you are on the road to speedily recovering.

    I’m always late for everything and disorganized but nobody has died yet, because I’m not a doctor…good thing too!

    And the other thing I do that’s even worse since I’m in the mood for confessing, is being a patient. Yep, I’m the kind of patient they gather in the hall outside the room with the door closed and try to figure out ways to discharge that crazy lady in there as soon as possible.

    I bet you’re a much better patient than I, Elizabeth, but I hope they are plotting to be able to send you home all fixed-up and soon. Here’s a shot of love and light coming atcha!

    That said….

    I’m getting these prompts in my inbox a day late – couldn’t figure out why I was always behind when I looked at stuff. duh uh.
    so here’s the one for today and I will get on the rest I owe a little at a time till I’m all caught up.

    The prompts are great but my muse is a fussy little thing.

    Sooo, without further adieu and yack yack

    THE CONCERT

    Big airy space
    A hushed empty hall;
    Time to get a move on
    Chairs stacked to the wall

    In walk the roadies
    Using brawn and pure sweat
    They unstack the chairs
    How many rows can they get?

    Programs in boxes
    Are put near the door
    They block out the stage
    And leave room for the score

    They set chairs for players
    In a half-moon shape
    Mark the floor for soloists
    With white masking tape

    Music stands at attention
    In front of each chair
    And here is the podium
    Placed with great care

    The conductor comes in and
    Surveys the scene
    You can see he’s exacting
    Though not really mean

    But he goes through each row
    Checking placement and view
    If percussion can’t see him
    That just won’t do

    All eyes must be up
    Each player must know
    The downbeat is coming
    Almost time for the show!

    And now they arrive
    Take their seats with most care
    Flutes down in front
    Piccolo far right chair

    Saxes come next
    Altos, tenors, and soon
    The bass clarinet and
    Unwieldy bassoon

    The oboes are tuning
    In low dulcet tones
    Clarinets squeak
    The trombones just plain moan

    The tubas are boomphing
    As tubas will do
    French horns like big flowers
    Are nodding hal-loo

    The din is fast growing
    Those trumpets join now
    The sound is like something
    You’d hear from a cow

    The baritones framed by silver
    And gold
    Wear their horns right around them
    They have to be bold

    At the rear the percussion
    Encircle the band
    With all of their strikers
    Most of them stand

    Tympani, cymbols, triangle
    Snare, Bass
    Heartbeat and sound effects
    To make your heart race

    The audience is ready
    The players are poised
    The stick’s in the air
    Out comes joyous noise!

  113. Robin Morris says:

    Yoga

    When there is no connection
    there is no flow,
    that’s why you must grow
    roots that sink deep into earth.

    Now reach your hands up to sky.
    Emulating the tree
    is your best strategy
    for learning this practice of connection

  114. "But There Is"

    He reaches out with his
    smile
    warmth
    touch
    And they respond in kind
    but there is no connection

    They think him
    funny
    kind
    charming
    And they appreciate his qualities
    but there is no connection

    And at the end of the day he is
    alone
    dejected
    heartsore
    What he wouldn’t give to be felt
    but there is no connection

  115. For Edna Andrade (1917-2008)

    I’ve been scanning pdfs
    Of women’s arts catalogues
    For her entries. One might think,
    There is no connection
    Between her and me,

    But we shared these Philadelphia streets,
    That same academy,
    Galleries in locks,
    Prints at the Art Alliance,
    Our membership in the caucus.

    Her optical paintings always reminded
    Me of light boxes, distilled in space.
    I stared at them at the ICA
    Unable to plot out her methods,
    The factors prime and discrete.

    I envisioned a mobius,
    Stripped through the canvas,
    Manifold In knot theories,
    Her objects defied topology,
    Now she enters her own algorithms.

    Read her bio here when our group, the Women’s Caucus for Art honored her (1983): http://www.nationalwca.org/LAA/LAA1983.pdf

    More work: http://www.locksgallery.com/artists/andrade/works.html

  116. Goodbye

    Between you and I
    there is no connection,
    no enduring bond,
    no point of intersection.
    Separate directions,
    our paths have been spit.
    Together no more,
    at the end, this is it.
    We just do not fit,
    there is no use pretending.
    Don’t lie to yourself,
    you knew that this was ending.
    I’m sick of defending
    each choice that I make.
    Can’t stand any more,
    I’ve had all I can take.
    I’m not sorry to break
    it to you in this way.
    My mind is made up.
    Now just please go away.

  117. Marcus Smith says:

    "Nocturnal"

    I’m addicted to the night.
    I googled "night addiction"
    and nothing came up
    but I know
    I’m addicted to the night
    I really am
    I can hear and see
    better at night
    I’m at my peak just before dawn
    when I control the world
    while others sleep.
    I control the garbage collector
    the paper delivery boy
    and the husband sneaking back in
    especially the husband
    because my senses are calibrated to sin.
    I live in a "zoo"
    in a special night-illumination cell
    to reverse my sleep-wake cycle
    to make me more accessible to visitors
    the doctor says I have DSPS
    – delayed sleep-phase syndrome –
    that it’s treatable but cannot be cured
    so I share the night with the cockroach,
    the flying squirrel and the fox;
    with the kangaroo rats and kiwi from down under,
    with the hedgehog, the wippoorwill, racoon and skunk.
    I am grateful to Dr. Wetzman for discovering DSPS
    I can now rule out insomnia and depression
    – there is no connection doc says –
    so I feel better and listen to the night
    listen for the car door to shut out front
    and the hardwoods to speak next door and the
    tabacco-whiskey jacket to trigger the screams
    and breaking glass – sex in the air but not
    her sex – and the sound of a heart
    breaking again…
    naked I sit at the breakfast table next to the window
    and wait for the morning paper
    anticipating the news of a decaying world
    a world afraid of the dark.

  118. Rodney C. Walmer says:

    Lost Connections

    There is no connection
    Earth and the planet Mars
    Perhaps early detection
    a little terra forming
    would make life there
    a little less hard
    Soon, the clouds
    would be forming
    the rains would be storming
    Real estate brokers
    handing out business cards

    There is no connection
    It’s just a dream
    that may someday come true
    this worlds lost it’s perfection
    as it may seem
    they’ve lost all sense of direction
    In all that they do

    Is there a connection
    to starting over
    creating perfection
    even a four leaf clover
    few would think so
    but, then if we could
    go to Mars
    would you go. . .

    ©Rodney C. Walmer 4/18/08 based on the prompt There is no connection.

  119. Jane Penland Hoover says:

    Park bench

    The grasses, squared off swatches
    Patches pressed beneath weight damp
    Years rolling, distilling tears beyond
    Avoidance dance time lost silent
    Barefooted toes trimming under
    Brim sultry sun distortion distances
    There is no connection more or less
    That bestows, grows prose
    Congratulatory slipping, licking
    Snake-fate into dust small smiles
    Slithering across dry patchy space.

    Jane Penland Hoover
    April 18, 2008

  120. Rodney C. Walmer says:

    Nancy, what do you teach, I am a 7th grade math teacher of 18 years now.

    Monica, I was raised in California. I understand earthquakes all too well. Been there, done that, too many times. I wish you the best. You are in my prayers.

    Rod.

  121. I found out today that my mother in law is dying and she may not make it till her next birthday which is next week so I had to write another poem for today’s prompt:

    A Sad Day

    My mother in law is dying;
    there is no connection between her
    heart and brain….
    She has been in so much pain.

    My mother in law has given up;
    there is no connection between
    life and death…
    She will take her last breath.

    My mother in law will be at peace;
    there is no connection between
    heaven and earth…
    she will have rebirth.

  122. Lorraine Hart says:

    ‘K….it’s Friday and I took the goofy easy route with the rhythm of the prompt…I’ve given myself the rest of the day off!

    There Is No Connection

    There is no connection
    between me and my reflection
    in the mirror that is
    hanging on the wall

    That woman looks so haggard
    edges positively jagged
    she doesn’t look like
    me…no not at all

    Please give me just a second
    this is harder than I reckoned
    seems like yesterday I
    saw a polished pearl

    Now standing here before me
    not a maid in all her glory
    but the wicked witch who
    lied and ate the girl

    Thank you Kevin (in case you didn’t see my thank you in previous post) for your kind words on "Man in the Moon"…your words today give me pause to think between no connection and keeping to the earth.

  123. Corinne says:

    By the way, Robert, very cool about the book! Congrats.

  124. Marin says:

    Here’s another one — thanks for reading everyone:

    The Doctors Would Say

    The doctors would say
    it wouldn’t hurt.
    Chronic is the loss of function, and it
    can come and go, its all because
    there is no connection
    between your brain and,
    well,
    the rest of your body.

    All connections have been severed.
    Your disease has reached
    its crescendo,
    the doctors would say.

    Its all shutting down;
    here are some companies for medical supplies
    the doctors would say,
    this one will come to you since,
    as you know,
    you won’t be able to go to them;

    But, don’t you worry,
    there is no pain because,
    after all,
    once everything shuts down
    you’ll be unable to move or feel.

    Oh,
    no,
    now don’t you cry,
    the doctors would say,
    it won’t hurt a bit.

    (This poem is about the emotional pain of Multiple Sclerosis and the ignorance of that pain throughout a lot of the medical community.)

  125. Iain D. Kemp says:

    Nice one, KP

  126. Rodney C. Walmer says:

     Lifelong Excuses

    She failed every test
    struggled with the class work
    talked and played during instruction
    like the rest

    When mom came to the school
    She said, I am not surprised
    that she plays the fool
    you need to be apprized
    of this
    I was always bad at math
    so yes, also my daughter is
    I know she’s not the brightest bulb
    in the bunch
    but, it’s math, it’s alright it’s
    just a hunch
    but, she won’t need it anyway
    wow, did I have something to say
    this is what I replied
    There is no connection
    between your ability
    and your child’s direction
    it’s just silly
    what we can learn is not based heredity
    it’s what we find fulfilling
    your daughter could do well
    but instead she
    she just isn’t willing

    I would like to say
    that she did better after that day
    she learned a lesson
    and was well on her way
    but, if your guess’in
    things remained the same
    well, your right on target
    and yes, her mother’s to blame
    for enabling her
    to find a reason to fail
    by disabling her ability to succeed
    she filled a need
    for that child to have an excuse
    to find a way to lose. . .

    ©Rodney C. Walmer 4/18/08 Poetry prompt #18 “There is no connection” Based on a true story,
    of a parent teacher conference I had with a students parent about 8 years ago.

  127. Carol A Stephen says:

    You live in the spaces
    between two lives,

    you say you love her, you’re
    not sure what you feel for me.

    You think there is no connection
    between the two women in your life,

    yet we are connected by our love for you.

    There is no connection between
    what you feel for women and love.

    You only love yourself.

  128. KP says:

    There is no connection
    Between the election
    And your infection.

    Politics may sting
    And votes aren’t always fair,
    A chad may be hanging here or there.
    Watching the debate may cause a nasty rash,
    But no one will notice when they’re spreading around cash.
    It’s all in who you have on your side,
    Not who sneezes on you,
    But what’s lurking deep inside
    Could be the flu.

    There is no connection
    Between the election, your infection
    And you.

  129. Marin says:

    There Is No Connection

    A trip to France, walking hand
    in hand along the Seine,
    room overlooking the Eiffel Tower,
    scents of sweet nothings float past
    the fluttering white silk curtains,
    silvery moonbeams pierce the night sky
    as my love sprinkles velvet rose petals red
    over our pillowed-top bed.

    There is no connection
    I heard him say;
    connection to what, I replied,
    what happened this day?

    I love you, my love
    you know that I do,
    and I feel it so deeply,
    I hope you do too.

    But tonight is the end
    and the roses have died;
    there is no connection
    and the moon tells us why;

    Why, I asked,
    as he packed up his bags;
    confused and alone
    my rose at my side;

    He looked at me
    with tear-filled eyes
    and walked out the door,
    too sad for goodbyes.

    Our trip to France ended,
    no more hand in hand,
    the Seine lost its magic,
    and Eiffel’s Tower collapsed,
    sweet nothings no longer float through the air
    and the silk curtains lay dead,
    the moon disappeared behind a dusty wisp of
    silvery nimbus in the night sky,
    and the velvet roses are dead
    on our pillowed-top bed.

  130. Iain D. Kemp says:

    Each has a cross to bear & this is mine…

    There Must Be Some Connection… Surely?

    There’s no connection
    To what you eat
    Although you could
    Improve your diet

    There’s no connection
    To how you sleep
    But a new mattress
    Might be of help

    There is a connection
    To your blood pressure
    It’s much, too much
    Too high again

    There is a connection
    To your coffee intake
    It’s far too strong
    You should cut down

    There maybe a connection
    To alcoholic drinks
    So no more wine
    Or beer for now

    Just take these new pills
    Three times a day
    And with some luck
    The migraines will be gone

    Come back in fourteen days
    Or so and then we’ll see
    Just how you are then
    And just what we can do

    I want to research my problem
    Find out all I can
    But internet is out of reach
    There is no connection

  131. Iris,
    Love you Alabama poem. I am in Alabama. Roll Tide!
    Debra

  132. Corinne says:

    Lots of recognition for me today, with all of these. Was particularly touched by Kevin’s and Joannie’s.

    Sorry about the earthquake, hope all are well.

  133. Iain D. Kemp says:

    Hi guys. lots of good stuuf already today. This is the second one I wrote for yesterday although it would even have fitted day 16’s prompt too. Am working on todays just now…

    After Eight

    He comes in the depths
    of night, grinding,
    growling, groaning
    Devouring all in sight

    He prowls the streets
    of town stopping
    feeding, taking all
    his victims down

    His single orange eye
    beams out lighting
    flashing, warning
    neighbours not to doubt

    Morning comes and
    gone. Just vanished
    no tracks, no trace
    of thanks: there’s none

    But he’ll return again
    This very night
    Slinking, sliding
    Destroying dreamers bliss

    Each grey still victim
    states with pride
    on the side, No Dumping
    here ‘til after eight

  134. Corinne says:

    The oxygen must travel from your lungs
    Into your trachea for you to speak.
    Though it flows through your heart centre
    Before the words are sounded
    There is no connection.

  135. Iris Deurmyer says:

    Big game day, Alabama versus Louisianna,
    And I invited our friends over to watch.
    I spent half a week cleaning house,
    And half a day cooking.

    Everyone is here so we load our plates,
    Joking about who will win
    One couple sports crimson tide colors
    The other wears the blue of their alma mater

    Half hour til kick-off so we settle in
    Our glasses full of tea, where’s the remote
    Wait, why is the screen all fuzzy,
    What is wrong with the satellite connection

    We frantically call the satellite company
    They suggest we push this button then wait
    Finally the "expert" causes a panic,
    "There is no connection!!"

  136. TaunaLen says:

    Crossed Words

    seven tiles
    on the rack
    fingered and shuffled
    as my mind works
    to find a place
    on the board
    squares of red,
    pink, green, blue
    bonus points
    on my mind
    too many consonants
    not enough vowels
    between the words
    phone and develop
    needle and veto
    there is no connection
    for the letters
    I have drawn
    hate to pass and
    lose my chance
    at triple word score
    but there really is
    no other choice

    TLS, April 2008

  137. SaraV says:

    Bush League

    There is no connection
    between my agenda
    and his

    The environment needs saving
    His oil friends say it doesn’t

    Our soldiers would not need to die
    His oil friends say they do

    The mercury levels are already too high
    His corporate friends say it isn’t

    Global Warming is melting ice caps
    His oil friends say it doesn’t

    Children are being left behind
    His oil friends say its fine

    Tax credits are given to gas-guzzeling SUV’s
    His oil friends said to do it

    The United Nations said stay out of it
    His oil friends said go for it

    The only connection he seems to see
    Is with the corporate pals that he
    Has to all his vacation parties
    But obviously
    There is no connection
    Between him and me

  138. M J Dills says:

    Some very good posts today. I just want to say special kudos to
    Nancy, Halfmoon Mollie, Joe, Ann Malaspina and Joannie. Thanks, again, to Robert for making this all happen. And yes, earthquakes do tend to shake one up.

  139. Ang,
    I love this one… you sound like you’ve been there. I love this type of poetry.
    Debra

  140. M J,
    I love this one and so true, but so sad
    Debra

  141. Cheryl Wray says:

    Not sure about this one. It was much harder than I thought it would be. Trying to take a "different" slant on the word. Great challenge, Robert. You rock!!!

    "Connection Questions"

    I look inside,
    I look up.
    I wonder,
    I ask.

    is there a connection
    between my screw-ups and your indifference?
    between my lack of faith and your absence?
    between your love and this pain?

    The answer comes.
    You don’t see the plan in the screw-ups.
    You aren’t looking for me.
    You don’t see what’s coming.

    so, the answer?
    "There is no connection.
    Only love.
    Only grace."

  142. Empty Dream

    Nothing like living and to have a dream.
    I wanted to write about you and me
    though I know that there is no connection,
    that we have different destinations
    that your planet in my world cannot fit.
    Nonetheless, in my window I can see
    your partially dressed body on a bed
    like flames from heaven laying there your flesh
    converting in ashes my inner will.

    Deep in my heart I feel some affection
    though I know that there is no connection.

    You are there because you wanted to be
    like a wave crashing into my hard rocks
    if anything, in my life it’s a shock
    to see you coming and to see you free.
    In my ecstasy I want to believe
    that you are real, that you have a heart,
    that I can bring your peace into my shack
    to sip from it until I see you bleed.
    There is no connection, only a thrill.

  143. Deb Hill says:

    April 18, day 18

    Exception

    Adult plus child – enters
    to wait – for another home –
    child rushes – to the toys –
    Adult sits.

    He knows no exception
    There is no connection

    Stranger walks in -sits
    down – smiles -Child
    sneaks glances – continues
    to play.

    He knows no exception
    There is no connection

    Adult stands – looks down
    on child – walks out – child
    sees without looking -he
    does not react –

    He knows no exception
    There is no connection

    The stranger stands- holds
    out her hand – he moves –
    on auto pilot – until he –
    hears-

    Lets make a exception
    We’ll be that connection!

  144. M J Dills says:

    There is no connection
    Between Church and State.
    And yet
    They pledge
    Under God,
    And ask him, in chorus, to Bless America.
    There is no connection
    Between State and Church
    And yet
    Your Reverend implores you
    To pray for soldiers
    Who are sanctioned to murder
    Innocents.
    There is no connection
    Between Church and State
    And I am compelled to inquire
    Of a nation gripped in a
    Spiritual dilemma,
    Divided into Red and Blue.
    Christian, Muslim, Jew
    When will there be
    An alliance of the two?

  145. Susan M. Bell,
    Thank you Susan.
    I have written several poems about family, because that’s how it is in my family and my husbands family. I have a few in my new book.
    When I saw the prompt this morning, that’s the first thing that came to mind.
    Debra

  146. Heather says:

    Patti-
    Thanks so much. Yours is good too. And you’ll hit your mark when the time is right. No worries. Cheers to ya!

  147. There Is No Connection

    There Is No Connection
    To Why The Unfoundational
    Middle East War Is Still
    Going On After 5 Years
    With No End In Sight

    There Is No Connection
    To Why This Country Has
    Been Dragged Through So
    Much Misery With Extreme
    Economical Strife For A
    Bush Legacy Or Lame Duck

    Today In The United States
    There Is No Connection
    To Low-wer Gas Prices

    Today In The United States
    There Is No Connection
    To Social Security

    Today In The United States
    There Is No Connection
    To Healthcare

    Today In The United States
    There Is No Connection
    To A Sufficient Education

    Today In The United States
    There Is No Connection
    To Legal Fair Justice
    And Liberty For All

    There Is No Connection
    To Why Today’s Presidential
    Administration Will Not Come
    To Grips That They Don’t Want
    This War To End Because They
    Want To Blame Their Great
    Initiated Mistakes On Every
    American For Years To Come

    There Is Finally A Connection
    We The People Of The United States
    Of America All Now Know Collectively
    How And Why The Present Middle East
    War Began Also We The People Of
    The United States Can Now Show How
    And When This War Is Going To End

    H. Michelle Cooper

  148. patti williams says:

    Heather – good job!

  149. patti williams says:

    “Rejection”

    Rejection.
    These letters that come,
    A kick in the gut each
    Time I read the lines.
    The emails saying
    “… just not right for us
    but best of luck”
    Strip me of my dignity.

    Surely there is no connection
    Between what they say
    And the truth.

    Surely my work
    Belongs somewhere.

  150. Schism

    How can you say there is no
    connection from the crow’s glistening
    wing to the night that flies
    away at dawn. No link
    between the winter wind
    and the hard sweep of grief,
    no coupling between the bell
    and the waves of its ring
    in an empty courtyard?
    How can you know there is
    no chain pulling taut
    the distance between tears
    and the ocean–or, say,
    Antarctica, the mountains and shelves
    of ice, the white blindness held
    together by cold until weight
    or melt makes them calve,
    fall apart with a roar
    that echoes in your blood,
    that binds you, even in sleep,
    to more than one ending.

  151. Matthew says:

    You are taking what I said wrong.
    There is no connection between
    what I said and what you think.
    You did not listen
    You only heard.
    I say what mean
    please don’t infer
    for that only leads
    you to anger
    toward me.

  152. lynn rose says:

    "you and I"
    We have been together for many years and
    have made love probably hundreds of times.
    We were both there through each other’s divorces
    and our kids graduating.We have cheered your girl
    on in basketball and vented all our problems. We
    have laughed at each others jokes and discussed
    so many things.We celebrate all the holidays
    together,well at least we see each other that day
    and exchange things.We seem so right together and
    so comfortable in everyway. But when it comes down
    to it, there is no connection to the world outside.
    Because you don’t want anyone to know what is going
    on, because of your job or are you ashamed of me. Tf
    people knew, would they understand. So in our outside
    world, there is no connection but when we are together
    we connect in so many ways.

  153. Marin says:

    I felt the aftershock too . . . I’m on the 34th floor of a building in downtown Chicago. Slightly scary.
    I’m working on my poem for today, but I’ve been a bit busy at work — I should have it soon. Great prompt Robert.

  154. Joe says:

    Well-connected

    Scientists are up in arms
    at the speed of global warming.
    Environmentalists shake their heads,
    no one will heed their warning.

    A ten-year window is all we have
    until the point of no return.
    "To hell with that", say executives,
    "We’ve got tons of coal to burn".

    Our planet cries "Stop it now
    before everyone gets hurt".
    Lobbyists still earn their keep
    while politicians hit pay dirt.

    Industry must motor on
    til it hits that intersection
    marked "Turn back before it’s too late",
    and "It’s OK. There is no connection".

  155. Maria Jacketti says:

    The Myth Is

    there is no connection between
    lollipops and pumpkins,
    skyscrapers and hovels,
    terrorists , saints,

    the aliens that abduct
    and those that intervene in angel garb:

    not smithereens of a chaotic big bang –
    or the fuselage of a big kahuna-deity’s
    ark smashed to puzzle pieces –
    but string theory, the divine quipu,
    waiting to be read, quarks
    to unravel, embroider,
    or hang by in ignorance,
    for the science and god, one,
    that we have yet to touch.

    Maria Jacketti

  156. Kateri Woody says:

    "Sometimes I remember it one way, sometimes another… if I’m going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice!" The Killing Joke

    Circle C’s

    Who he is and who he was –
    two different entities
    that morph and warp
    into a complete visage,
    copulating and reproducing
    a new corporeal individual
    with a multiple choice
    history filled with all of the
    aboves and circled c’s
    indicating a lack of discernible
    connection between today and yesterday
    besides the scars on his face,
    smile wide and gauchely lilting
    on his face always –
    the only thing that stays is that
    macabre smile that borders
    on maudlin when he remembers
    that yesterday he was happy
    and knows that today he is depressed
    for no real reason
    because there is no connection,
    no real connection between who he is
    who he was, and who he will be.

  157. Bill Kirk says:

    A Writer’s Lament
    By Bill Kirk

    Just the other day
    I was thinking—
    You know, how when you
    Start to write and
    A totally novel story concept
    Starts to form and
    You’re thinking you can finally use
    That ideal main character and serpentine plot
    You crafted so many years ago and
    The best opening sentence ever written
    Pops in your head and then…?
    Nothing.
    And what about that
    Perfectly polished manuscript
    That just got rejected for the tenth time?
    And what’s up with the editor
    Who’s been stringing you along
    For two years, asking for revisions,
    Teasing you with interest until,
    “This project isn’t going to work for us after all” or
    The too restrictive contract or, worse,
    A book far too comfortable
    On book store shelves because
    It just doesn’t resonate?
    That’s when it struck me.
    A concept won’t be formed,
    A character won’t quite fit,
    An opening sentence will languish,
    A story won’t be written,
    A manuscript won’t be accepted,
    A contract won’t be signed and
    A book won’t be bought
    Simply, undeniably, invariably
    If…
    There is no connection
    Between concept and story,
    Characters and plot,
    Author and editor,
    Publisher and booksellers or
    Between the book and the readers.
    Any single disconnect
    Is as good as a disconnect
    Between them all.
    But when it all hangs together,
    ‘Tis indeed a thing of beauty.

  158. Lorien Vidal says:

    Now, THAT is a good one, Robert! Actually, your kind of poem was the first thing to come to mind (darn!), so I’ll really have to do my homework on this one…

    Really not so far behind the time
    Your soul impression hugged my heart
    You very warmly touched my mind,
    My eyes, my then and now, my start

    Too sure that it meant to be forever
    Too blind to see the what-could-be’s
    The crash that shouldn’t happen, ever
    For want of what I couldn’t see

    So strongly did you touch me
    In my mind, at night, in dreams
    They seemed so real, like sunlight
    The way you spoke, in person seemed

    As time goes past in flashes
    Pain will dull and tears will fade
    And I will crave those new emotions
    Can’t hardly see you through the shade

    The tears flow for you once again
    Because I don’t feel you, or remember your smell, your face
    Despite all wishes and wants
    It soon will be that there is no connection

    P.S. – So sorry to read about the earthquake…

  159. Monica Martin says:

    For those of you who don’t know, there was an earthquake in Illinois this morning that radiated 450 miles. I live in Bridgeton, a county/suburb/township/providence/whatever of St. Louis, and I felt it. Louisville and Lexington got bad damage. 5.2 on Richter scale. They said the effects were felt from Altanta all the way to Milwaukee. I’m 25, and this is my first earthquake experience. I just felt the aftershock fifteen minutes ago. I’m horrible agitated, and may not be able to write today. Keep your poets and writers who live in these areas in your prayers. As far as I have heard, there have been no injuries. I think I’m going to go pick pockets with the Artful Dodger for a while. Have a good one.

  160. Susan M. Bell says:

    (For some reason, this came to mind as soon as I read the prompt. It’s not my best work, and I almost hate to post it considering some of the others I’ve read, but here goes anyway.)

    A Reason

    “Why did this happen? I haven’t been a bad person.
    I’ve lived a good life.” There had to be a reason for
    what the doctor was telling me. Cancer didn’t just
    happen. There had to be a reason.

    “I assure you, there is no connection between the
    type of life a person has lived and cancer. You haven’t
    done anything wrong.” His words flew past me, over
    my head. All I heard was “cancer.” In my mind, that
    was the only word that counted.

    I looked back at the previous 40 years, trying to
    locate the point in time where I had gone astray,
    walked off the right path, jumped the tracks. I
    wasn’t a perfect angel by no means, but cancer?

    “I used to shoplift. Maybe that’s it.” I had to find
    a reason. “I cheated on a test in high school. Wasn’t
    very nice to that Jenkins girl.” He reached out and
    patted my hand. “Listen to me, there is no connection.”

    There had to be a reason.

  161. Susan M. Bell says:

    Debra Elliott – Your poem really struck a cord with me. Makes my heart ache.

  162. Fourteenth and Third

    There is no connection
    for the hollow-eyed addict
    desparate for a bag,
    for a drift off to dreamland,
    to cure his cold flushes
    and shaky hands,

    while the cops,
    collars made,
    corner clean,
    chug coffee
    and chat up the hookers
    in tangerine stiletto heels.

  163. Heather says:

    What I Need

    There is no connection
    Between you and what I really need
    Don’t let me scare you I’m not going anywhere
    This blink of time
    That we choose to call life
    Is throwing up a flare
    And as far as I can see
    I mean
    I don’t know what to think
    Except there’s no connection
    Between you and what I really need

    Don’t let me scare you
    With all my worldly ways
    This blink of time has shown me
    Some damn hard days
    The only thing I can say
    Is that I’ll try and square them away
    I mean
    I don’t know if you’re going to stay
    But I’m not afraid
    Things will work out either way

    The time is going to come
    When the tests are going to run
    Can you promise
    Promise you’ll allow me to fly until I’m free
    Even though there’s no connection
    Between you and what I really need

    Don’t let me scare you
    But the long nights
    There will be long nights
    To keep you restless
    And this blink of time
    Is requiring my undivided presence
    But as far as I can control
    I mean
    I don’t know about growing old
    Never thought I’d last this long
    If you can stand me
    Then maybe you’re exactly
    What I need

  164. halfmoon_mollie says:

    About A Fire

    the day started with a poem
    about the fire at the
    Triangle Shirtwaist factory
    that somehow ended up comparing
    the loss of so many lives
    with the sinking of the Titanic

    one would think
    there is no connection

    between the fat captains
    of industry and the girls
    they killed with their
    want of more
    more work for more money
    so who cared if the
    girls and women
    were crowded into
    dangerous conditions
    and the doors were locked

    between the people who
    were shoved below
    not allowed the air
    and freedom that the
    fat captains of industry
    and their indulged wives
    or mistresses
    were allowed

    there is no connection
    between the murder by fire
    of poor women
    trying to make a better life
    and poor families
    trying to find a better place

    check your history
    and get back to me
    see if you still think
    there is no connection
    between greed of the rich
    and death of the not rich

  165. Don Swearingen says:

    Doubts About The Murder of The Muse

    Such a pouring out!
    I’ve never seen it like this.
    The Muse must have some clout,
    To cause such grief. Yet something is amiss.
    Cavemen invoked her for direction,
    After eons she’s gone?
    From life to death there is no connection
    Is this some kind of con?
    No one knows how old she is!
    If she’s lived that long, is she not immortal?
    Is this some elaborate plot of his?
    Is she hiding somewhere to watch and chortle?

    But what had the man had to drink,
    To say that she had gone to Swink?

  166. Ang says:

    Nancy,
    Nonstandard Course of Study is fantastic!!!

  167. Connie says:

    Virtual Friends

    She hadn’t seen her best friend in two months.
    The other two she used to pal around with—
    Where are they?
    Some of her friends who used to occupy her time
    Had moved away
    Some had drifted away
    But mostly she’s holed up typing away
    Her connection is online
    With her writers groups
    Or with people she barely knows
    Or with long-distance friends and relatives
    Face to face?
    There is no connection.

  168. Ang says:

    Now

    We live under the same roof
    We eat, sleep, we inhale
    We come, we go, to and fro
    Then separately we exhale

    We share a history
    We share many years
    Now it’s all discarded
    I live with my fears

    We choose different friends
    We read separate books
    We like different music
    We have different looks

    I thought we had a bond
    I thought we were connected
    I thought we were together
    But now it’s all rejected

    What once was is gone
    So little affection
    So hard to hold you now
    There is no connection

  169. Susan Reichert says:

    YOU

    There is no connection between we two.
    I see you everyday in the streets
    and wonder who brought you but more
    importantly why they left you here.
    Others pass right by and never notice you.
    Watching them I see some have brought
    your equivalent and are leaving them too.
    People do not see there are
    places for you and others like you.
    They even have your names on the front of
    each bin, it says TRASH.

    Susan
    April 18
    Day #18

  170. Ginger G says:

    Up
    by Ging

    Up, Up, Up
    The basket floats high
    up above the city
    playing in the fluff of clouds
    dancing on the breeze

    Up, Up, Up
    The balloon climbing higher
    and higher still
    delighting tiny birds
    in the tops of gigantic pines

    Up, Up, Up
    Away and floating by
    with no connection
    to the earth
    enveloped in the blue, blue sky

  171. Rox says:

    Leaving

    There is a silent thrum of hope from the crowd
    Staring at tiny electronic screens
    Or the faces of their so few links
    To the Powers That Be.
    Into the pregnant waiting
    The staticky, staccato, disembodied voice
    Pronounces their fate:
    “Ladies and gentlemen
    There is no connection to San Jose..”
    The rest unheard over the collective
    Guttural groans, expletives, huffing
    And clearly heard, though unsaid,
    “…so get the hell out without making a scene
    So we can leave, too.”

  172. Nancy says:

    I can’t help myself. My poems slip into teacher mode. Hey, it’s where I live.

  173. Nancy says:

    Nonstandard Course of Study
    I know I should be teaching subject-verb agreement,
    Literary analysis, proofreading, editing, diction and syntax.
    But sometimes I have to insert little life lessons
    Intended for you all, but most of all for those in the back,

    The invisible, disgruntled, grudgingly envious
    Of the stars of the senior class.
    So right in the middle of a discourse on pronouns,
    I mention the well-researched evidence
    That there is no connection between
    Popularity in high school and success in life—

    Or if there is, perhaps an inverse one.
    Please return for your class reunion,
    Maybe not quite by the tenth, when
    Everyone still has something to prove,
    But by twenty, I promise you: life is a leveler.

    You’ll see who’s peaked. No clairvoyants voted
    On “Most Likely to Succeed.” The beauty queen
    Had no emeritus status; the crown lasted at most
    For that one year; the homecoming queen,
    Just one game and convertible ride
    Around the football field.

    Will you believe me? Did you listen
    When I told you that the prom is not
    The highpoint of your social life,
    That you should not sacrifice
    “your precious jewel” for an orchid corsage,
    A limo ride, and the last slow dance.

    There is no connection between
    Lacquered chignons and manicured nails
    And beauty or between prom dates and love.
    Now turn in your books to page seventy-four.
    Underline subjects once and predicates twice.

  174. Christa R. Shelton says:

    FALSE LOVE

    There is no connection between them anymore
    False loving glances are exchanged across the table
    for the sake of the children
    The excuse they use to stay together
    But the children see them sleep in different places
    and overhear the muffled arguments at night
    The tension between them chokes and suffocates
    the life out of all those that come into their presence
    but they continue hiding behind strained smiles
    and forced affectionate rubs on the back
    a piece of each of them dies everyday
    knowing that life would be better apart
    but it’s so much easier to play the role
    than to accept the truth that lies in their hearts

  175. Michelle H. says:

    Good-bye

    I’m sorry Ma’am
    The line is dead
    It must have been the storm.

    No, no I say
    That cannot be
    I must get thru today.

    I’m sorry Ma’am
    I’ll try no more
    There is no connection.

    Thank you, I say
    Thank you again
    I needed you to try.

    I am sorry
    I did not get
    The chance to say good-bye.

    April 18, 2008
    © Michelle H.

  176. Liza says:

    Feeling Unloved

    You run your hands over me
    when we are alone,
    but when we are apart
    it’s like we are strangers.

    Such conflicting emotions
    run rampant in my heart,
    I feel like I’m being battered
    with lack of consideration.

    There is no connection
    between the two of us anymore.
    We’re both being battered,
    can’t you see that?

    I feel like a hamster to it’s wheel
    always running and running
    to end up right back where I was.
    Will there ever be an end?

    I wonder if you get pleasure
    from my misery since
    you seem not to mind it much.
    Could it be you never loved me?

  177. Teri Coyne says:

    The Other Side

    Sometimes there is no connection
    when between now and the hereafter
    but sometimes the
    Spirits want to tell you
    what they are up to
    they talk
    on the spirit phone
    that is what we call it

    most speak like children
    saying things like
    I love you
    I am sad today
    sometimes they interrupt
    each other
    to say stupd things

    and sometimes
    they bring dark energy
    that sends stabbing pains
    through my teeth and jaw

    Dad came to me first
    knocked the wind out of me
    with his intensity
    I asked him nicely
    to slow down and stop scaring me
    and he did

    it is easier to
    be with him now
    when he was alive
    there was no connection

  178. Khara House says:

    :“mutually exclusive dinner party invitations”:

    Between her old self
    and her new self there is
    no connection
    anymore They sit on opposite
    sides of the room They
    sleep in
    separate beds
    They eat dinners in silence and rarely
    call company to
    toast their exclusive successes Between

    the two of them
    there is little room
    for change Maybe someday
    But for now there is no
    connection

  179. Good morning!
    This challenge was a little hard for me, it took me about 3 minutes to write and not sure if this is where I wanted to go, but I am anyway.

    There is no connection

    There is no connection between the two;
    who?
    sister and brother…
    They just can’t seem to love one another.
    They are from a different father;
    so why bother?
    sister and brother….
    They don’t even love their mother;
    so why love each other….

  180. Kevin says:

    Oops. Title: No Connection and a ‘you’ at the end of the 3rd line, first stanza. Oops.

    Nice prompt, Robert…should be interesting to read the poetics that come of it.

  181. Kevin says:

    There is no connection
    between death and love,
    no strings to bind,
    and keep you to the earth.

    There is no connection
    between life and song,
    no notes to hold you,
    and keep you to the earth.

    There is no connection
    between want and greed,
    no desire to suck you,
    and keep you to the earth.

    There is no connection
    between wrong and right,
    no moral to lord you,
    and keep you to the earth.

    There is no connection
    between black and white,
    no in-between to colour you,
    and keep you to the earth.

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