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2012 April PAD Challenge: Day 4

For today’s prompt, take the phrase, “100% (blank);” replace the blank with a new word or phrase; make the new phrase the title of your poem; and then, write your poem. Example titles might include: “100% Beef,” “100% Cotton,” “100% Awesome,” “100% Etc.”

Here’s my attempt:

“100% Poem”

Start with an incredible metaphor
that takes the breath from angels
and break your lines at random
angles to keep your readers off-balance,
if not interested at least confused

(possibly amused), and then,
drop an obscure reference to a line
in a poem by a poet that most
readers have never heard of
because that is how you roll

through your poetics and spin politics
as a web that holds together in one
age to the next, which basically means
it’s human–because while
everything around us

changes in dramatic ways
we–the humans–struggle the same, and it
helps to hear that voice who knows
we want to always do better than this.


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507 thoughts on “2012 April PAD Challenge: Day 4

  1. ratgirl

    100% on the Pain Scale

    We found a rusty wheelchair in a drama room prop closet
    While we were supposed to be practicing “Our Town”, which bored us to death.
    I still remember the feeling of control, the curved grip of wheel rails in my palms.
    I laughed a little too loud for backstage, trying to master a 360 spin.
    I didn’t know I was playing with suffering, like a sharp-edged tin toy
    with helicopter blades that could bite to the bone,
    doused in bright rainbow paint and the smile of a unicycling duck. Innocent
    as white bread, I hadn’t yet learned how
    pain could hold its victim to the bed, sure as duct tape strings
    burn your lips when you try to scream. How it holds your arms
    with ziptie vicious teeth.

    How, doctor, would you like me to convert this into numbers? How do I translate
    its hand over my mouth while it shakes my spine like a dog toy
    and demands that I say its name with gratitude
    for sparing my life even as it forces me open and spills
    a tsunami of fear into my belly, where it grows a web of tenticles
    that slip comfortably into my skin and wear it like it owns me?

    Dare I say it’s a 10 on the pain scale, or have you been taught a hair-trigger
    snare for exaggeration? A terse certainty it’s the mark of a drug seeking junkie?
    And have I done enough tricks to impress
    Upon you, or will you again look at this shamed child
    Certain she’s exaggerating when she tells you, “seven” instead,
    Lying against myself to earn your trust?

  2. Marian O'Brien Paul

    100% Means . . .

    100% means all
    or nothing which raises
    the question of fallacy
    the “either/or” to be
    exact – not
    to mention the 99%
    who wish the 1%
    would comply
    and pay equal
    taxes thus making
    the tally 100% but
    remember that old
    Ivory soap ad touting
    the “99.99% purity”
    of that cleansing bar?
    Doesn’t the missing
    00.01% make
    it impure? A quibble
    you suggest? Are you
    quite 100% sure?

  3. cstewart

    100 Per Cent

    Whenever I want to write, I sit down and do it.
    Or get to it as soon as I can from where I am.
    The same with art-making.
    I get to it as soon as I can from where I am.
    But sometimes where I am is very far away,
    And the trip home is a constant, thoughtful, vigil.
    That is always with me and pushes me forward.
    To that place where I have always belonged.

  4. Paoos69

    100% Vegetarian

    This is foolish, this is madness
    Eggs and fish are not vegetarian
    Eggs, the precursors of life
    Fish with gills and fins
    Very much alive!

    I am a vegetarian pure
    Chaste and contrived
    Veggies and berries
    Fruits and curries
    Feed my belly

    Only the divine chocolate éclair
    In the bakery down the road
    I devour with relish
    The éclair, my sole fetish
    Once, maybe twice, maybe four times a week
    I willingly seek

    The onlookers familiar
    Gape and gasp
    Even small whisper I hear
    There “goes” the vegetarian
    The éclair, far from my belly’s criterion

  5. tunesmiff


    I was born in Alabama,
    Raised in Tennessee,
    I’ve got Irish blood mixed with
    A little native Cherokee.

    Mama came from way up north,
    Daddy from the coast.
    People often ask me
    Who I resemble most.

    I tell ‘em, “Here’s the simple truth…
    I’m one hundred per cent…
    Ninety proof.

    They make those flaming, fruity drinks,
    For tourists down on Bourbon,
    Fine wine in fancy glasses
    For yuppies in Suburbans.

    College boys drink kegs of beer,
    At tailgating parties,
    And bloody Mary brunches
    On Sundays at sororities.

    I’m not all that fancy, that’s the truth…
    I’m one hundred per cent…
    Ninety proof…

    I’m ninety-nine and forty-four…
    One-hundredths per cent pure,
    I give my best shot at all I do…
    Sometimes I might miss my Maker’s mark,
    But you can be dang sure…
    I’m one hundred per cent…
    Ninety proof… ninety
    One hundred per cent…
    Ninety proof…

    When last call comes I’ll turn my glass,
    Over on the bar,
    And wait for St. Peter,
    To call me from afar.

    When he asks me to come on,
    through the Pearly Gates,
    I’ll ask him,
    If he can kindly wait,

    He might be ready, but I won’t be through…
    I’m one hundred per cent…
    Ninety proof…

  6. Jamal Abboud

    100% Beauty Of Present Perfect

    You are the beauty of present perfect
    Whatever has passed
    Your influences still exist
    A jasmine was once flowery mad
    I still read the jovial scent
    An angel image, I have never perceived
    Happily insight , an omen of soul’s predict
    You are since, for, ever and yet
    Lissome beauty among the stars
    A twinkle now, had long since passed
    I now pick and select
    To remain out of my reach
    A present beauty of which
    I only can croon and regret.

  7. Karen31

    100 % Rowan

    Rowan is action
    Is movement
    Is question
    Is verb
    Rowan is learning
    Is telling
    Is yessing
    Is no
    Rowan is choo-choo
    Is hop-hop
    Is up-up
    Is hug
    Rowan is grandson
    Is future
    Is three
    Is love

  8. cajun75

    100% Gluttony
    Thanksgiving turkey
    And pumpkin pie
    Christmas ham
    And ambrosia

    New Year’s hops with Hopping John
    And greens for good luck
    Valentine’s, what else, chocolate,
    Chocolate and more chocolate

    Next up is Easter
    With lamb and mint jelly
    And please don’t forget Mom and Dad
    Who get to choose whatever they want

    Patriotic venues of Memorial Day
    4th of July and Labor Day
    Brings friend chicken, potato salad,
    And watermelon

    Somewhere along the line is
    Birthday cake or pie and ice cream
    Full circle, one year later
    It’s Halloween
    With lots and lots of

  9. kingac

    100% Alliteration

    Alabaster algorithms
    blatantly blasting
    corrupted conspiracies.

    Demented dogma
    extinguishing everything
    from far-away.

    Ghostly gaspings
    habitually horrifying
    intrinsic individuality.

    Justified jurisprudence
    killing keyboards
    laboriously left-right.

    Makeshift marriage
    never nocturnal
    openly occupant.

    Perishable pensions
    quickly quizzically
    reversing rhetoric.

    Squeamish standoff
    tauntingly tandem
    uproariously underwritten.

    Vexing vortex
    whittling warp-zones
    Xeroxing xenophobia.

    You’re yielding.
    zymotic zombies.

  10. JRSimmang

    100% is equal to 1
    That’s what she said to me when she began this ambuscade.
    She said she wanted it all.
    She wanted the kiss,
    the hug,
    the silent nights with our legs indeciphered,
    the breath,
    the sight,
    the fingers intertwined,
    the spoon,
    the fork,
    the heaving chests and childlike giggles,
    the you pick up the checks,
    the gifts,
    the end tables and time at the bookstore reading to one another.
    She wanted it.
    She needed it.
    She felt worthless without it.
    She, the 100%, the 1, and
    I, the nought.
    I, I wanted the 100%. I wanted the 1.
    I wanted to speak to her from over my books
    and the widening silence between us.
    I wanted the warm nights where our heat
    spread over our blankets and made us sweat.
    100%. 1, where there were supposed to be 2.
    100%, where 200% was needed.

  11. po

    100% Float

    No place to go? Let water currents
    take you on a inner-tube cruise
    on the Hudson River.

    Float over dreams of past lives
    rooted to the bottom. Past
    Washington wildfires set

    by current Washington
    politicians. Hear compliments
    only on recentyly available

    technology. Thank you for
    round twenty-two hundred
    and our current 100%

    solution to our problems.
    Try and relax and float
    in the dirty water.

  12. taylor graham


    Loki. And that means mischief.
    Loki, trickster god. Shape-
    shifter. Loki of earth-
    quakes. It takes active verbs
    just to name this
    sable bitch-puppy, tornado
    inside our walls.
    With teeth and bark. Loki –
    never low-key –
    but finally asleep
    after a day’s mayhem she
    twitches in puppy-
    dreams, chasing rabbits,
    or keeping time
    to her fierce heart-drummer.
    100% Loki.

  13. Jolanta.Stephens


    Correct grammar
    Stupid text speak
    Silly young girls
    Wearing next to nothing
    Don’t they know it’s cold outside??
    Why is this music so loud?
    I strained my throat yelling
    Maybe I should ‘tweet’ on ‘face-space’…
    Gone are the short skirts
    Traded heels for comfy flats
    (Oooh paded soles! A real treat!)
    Sorry love, I’m twice your age
    But thanks anyway for trying
    My perfect saturday night?
    Black Tea dregs
    My crochet in hand
    Trackies and blankie
    And maybe a book to boot.

  14. ellanytdavve

    100% Saturated

    I’m on a time out
    Sequestered with my computer
    Needful to think and read,
    Consider and reconsider,
    Comment or not,
    mostly not.
    My computer friend,
    unoffended if I shut him off
    or neglect his on.
    Me thinks more cranial time
    of the freeflow
    would make our time
    more of the more.
    It is a case of less is more,
    A value we’ve not engaged
    To make all work and
    no play.

  15. Shreedhar

    100% Brilliant

    He’s the patriarch of this tale,
    he, of the ex-neurotic wife,
    and the current Latina bombshell,
    whose love is never at strife;
    and the wise little butterball.

    She, of the Colombian upbringing,
    of the big bosom, and bigger heart,
    God-fearing mass rat murderer,
    mistress of many mispronunciations.
    the wind in our back, not the spit on our faces.

    He, the ornithophobic attorney at large,
    the one of the sharp wit, and flaming red hair,
    Do it yourself disaster, gay, out, and proud,
    on an Asian paediatric adventure, of sorts,
    with that bumbling sleep-clown-er, looming large.

    He, the flaming gay stereotype, or so you thought,
    Of the singing voice and the clowning face,
    the throwing arm and the too joyful tops;
    with a tendency to laugh at baby curses,
    and the real live example of a real man who cries.

    He, cool dad is his thang, he’s ridiculicious,
    the comedic foil, to his hyper better half.
    Gadget freak, real estate whiz, he’ll fix that step;
    The kind of dad, everyone would want.
    And oh yeah, he is not a pervert.

    She, I kept for last, for in her I see me,
    hears everything, quadrennially spontaneous,
    perfectionism overload, hard taskmaster,
    suspect past, auto-tuned orgasmic wonder,
    A solid wall of dependability, for the rest to lean on.

    She, the fashionista school girl with her heart just right,
    She, the intellectual wonder, just found joy in dolls,
    He, the “special” one, yet on occasions many, of sharp insight,
    He, the romantic, the poet, the man far ahead of his cherubic face,
    And she, hopefully not the only underachieving Asian we’ll ever know.

    This one’s for Modern Family.

  16. Miss R.

    100% Certain

    My mind is made up
    That I will make up my mind,
    One of these days,
    I think. If I have the time,
    I will, unless I decide otherwise.
    In that case, I may or may not
    Commit; it all depends,
    But don’t worry.
    You can count on me.

  17. Tanjamaltija

    100% Serpentine

    Sliding slowly

    Slickly slip and

    Slither through life.

    Slyly staring,

    Slit-eyed at Me.

    Slimy, surreal,

    Slinking stealthily

    Spoilt and suave

    Suspicious, and smug

    Supercilious, and smarmy…

    Sylphlike, human, snake.

  18. emmajordan

    100% Me

    Ferns, lush dark green in the shade
    Lilac colored wisteria clinging to a brick wall
    Trees with tangled branches
    Pale pink peonies
    Willows reaching down toward water
    Marigolds yellow and maroon
    Maples of every kind
    Scented basils smelling unlike Italian
    Blueberry bushes heavy with fruit
    Roses white with thorny protection
    Peeling bark hanging falling
    Zinnias smiling colors nodding good day.
    My camera chooses these
    or perhaps they choose me
    filling my albums with combinations of
    color and texture.
    This is what I see when I walk
    and my camera leads me to show who I am.

  19. Lynn Burton

    100% Certifiable

    She says the voices she hears are very
    insistent, and struggles on a daily
    basis. It’s the constant change, those harried
    moments of confusion when she bravely
    quiets the noise ’til it’s dead and buried.

    (A rough attempt at a quintain).

  20. lionmother

    I’m trying to catch up! It’s been a busy two days.

    Striving for 100%

    We all do it
    worship the number
    pray for it
    cry for it
    stay up late forcing
    words into our brains
    cross our fingers
    when the papers
    reveal the truth
    and we infuse
    this desire into
    our children with
    their first attempts
    rewarding with gold
    stars those who
    achieve the magic
    while the stragglers
    develop cement feet
    and though they try
    can never quite meet
    the heights
    they drop away to
    find the easier route
    gaining hundreds
    for their limited attempts
    forced to watch
    the stars who soar
    on the backs of their
    100%s separated from
    their talented friends
    soon to be the haves
    of the school.

  21. Karen H. Phillips

    Day 4

    Write a poem entitled “100% Blank.”

    100% Southern

    20% sweet tea (pronounced as one word)
    20% country cookin’ (turnip greens, pinto beans, blackberry cobbler)
    20% hospitality and politeness (yes, Ma’am; no, Sir; y’all come in)
    20% bluegrass music and accent (from Wagoner to Scruggs, from drawl to twang)
    20% family, home, and porch-settin’ (reunions; one-room cabins or antebellum mansions;
    rockers, gliders, porch swings)
    All South, born and bred.

  22. Andrea B

    100% Love

    Why do I put up with it?
    Because there was a time
    when you saw me with
    100 % love.

    We had babies,
    you took care of us—
    A habit I can’t figure out
    how to break.
    There is no corner of
    the internet on how to,
    no back alley advice.

    No mover to
    shake you out.

    100% love is now
    at times
    100% lover
    and children
    at times
    100% loveliness
    making the math
    of 100% love

  23. LCaramanna

    100% Correctly Written

    Dotted every i, crossed every t,
    Capital letters, punctuation,
    Indented paragraphs, I see –
    Introduction hooked my attention,
    Thesis statement
    gives the topic a mention,
    Information organized as directed –
    Could this young writer be
    Thoreau resurrected?
    Evidence leads to a logical conclusion,
    To ravage with a red pen
    would be an inexcusable intrusion,
    Not one error in the essay can I detect,
    There’s nothing more to do
    except declare it 100% correct.

  24. Yolee

    Written before the prompt, but it fits with the title.

    100% Tragic

    Last Monday evening I was at my son’s weight-lifting high school event. I saw what looked like two brothers. My guess is they were ages of 8 and 5. They ran back and forth between the concession stand and bleachers. Sometime later, I noticed the youngest boy had a bag of Skittles in his hand. It brought tears to my eyes to imagine that there is a mother who will never look at a bag of Skittles without thinking about her son’s last breath. What was once another trademark treat is now an image that will cause unprecedented grief in this mother’s soul. The variables in the news may be overly exaggerated or underrated… but if it were me, none of the extraneous reports would matter the way my child’s life matters. How do you compare the issue of race, whether a neighborhood watchman has the right to carry a weapon- pursue and be hurt as a result, if the victim had been suspended from school for being tardy or absent, that there had been break-ins in the neighborhood and the pursued victim fit the description, with the loss of a child? How do you come to terms with the unwarranted tragedy? Will speculations make a difference in the outcome that was Trayvon’s? Surely facts have to unfold so that what went wrong can be legally righted, but assumptions blur the clarity that a horrible heartbreak occurred. My son likes to wear his hooded sweatshirt when it’s cool outside. God protect our children.

  25. Katrin

    100% Potential

    The bud,
    no flaws yet revealed,
    sitting tight on the edge of bloom
    surrounded by a Greek chorus of
    necessary sunshine,
    the cardinals cheering on
    towards the burst

    With the path ahead clearly
    marked towards the
    final heavy falling,
    a lingering in tight embrace
    seems most natural,
    a gathering of nerve
    before the curtain is
    pulled open to the season’s nod and
    modesty’s blushing monologue in
    taffeta farewell pink

  26. carolecole66

    100% Broken

    One false step and life
    changes. My plans altered,
    I sit in the ER waiting room
    instead of by my wife
    over a quiet dinner.

    That tennis ball rolled itself
    beneath my foot just as I
    lunged for a sharp volley
    a slender bone snapped
    and I was done.

    Maybe finished. How many times
    can one return, decade
    after decade. First the cast,
    then the boot, then the withered
    leg yet feeling lucky

    it’s no worse than this.

  27. Arike

    100% Privileged

    No friction to stop you
    Smooth slide up for your star
    Well-oiled, you think, you work
    So hard you got there all on your own
    Unnoticed all those open doors
    Undiscriminated, you white rich
    Creature of no suffering
    Insufferable how you complain
    Brag to friends you’ve made it
    It’s the random injustice you never
    Met that makes you elite
    Education is an option, jobs
    Aplenty, you’re welcome
    Everywhere you go so you don’t notice
    Everyone else outside looking in
    On what you have
    The point of a glass ceiling: it’s invisible

  28. DandPInc

    100% Patty
    Subtle is rarely a word used to describe
    The high voltage energy bundled inside

    Her laugh—more a guffaw—
    Fills the halls

    Librarians flinch upon her approach
    Study hall monitors warn of reproach
    In theory she ought to be coached…

    but then she wouldn’t be
    100% Patty

  29. Jannelee


    I am 100 percent fool
    for when I am around you
    My tongue becomes clumsy
    pushing foolish words
    from my silly, smiling lips
    I act the fool when you smile
    lips, but that I could softly kiss
    your teeth like precious pearls
    music of the angels when you speak
    I am running to pick up the flowers
    that fall from your pretty mouth
    Happiness is a seat next to you
    grabbing the scraps of your words
    wolfing them down like a hungry dog
    you turn your head and your hair
    dark as the midnight sun
    falls across your lovely shoulder
    in my mind I see my fingers
    threading through it silken strands
    Yes, I am 100 percent fool
    for you don’t even know I am alive
    You look through me when he enters
    The glow from your eyes lights the room
    I see love stand between the two of you
    a magnet pulling at your hearts
    and the love I foolishly hold for you
    falls to the cold, hard floor
    to shatter like my silly porcelain heart
    Yes, I am 100 percent fool

  30. drwasy

    100% SPRING

    Robins scurry after grubs
    bunnies hop under shrubs
    trees leaves flutter, yellow-green
    daffodils bow in the warm breeze
    puff-white clouds bring April showers
    to sprinkle on bright spring flowers
    rainbows stretch across the sky
    pollen gives us itchy eyes
    the sun sets on a perfect day
    paradigm of a true cliché

    Today really was like the poem, kind of sappy, but I was happy, flowing through the day on vacation with family. Peace, Linda S-W

  31. shann

    100% Dacron dream

    an American fantasy, like that red Corvette
    when you got back from ‘Nam summer of ‘69
    stationed in Killeen, Texas a few hours
    from Pasadena and the girl you stole
    out from under your own brother’s nose.

    Okay, it was metallic blue but sounds better red,
    and he didn’t want to be stuck in a rut (his words)
    so you showed up with comfort and kisses,
    opportunistic fellow that you were, the lucky sort
    who did three tours and never got a graze.

    Dacron might not stretch but stories do, the way
    memory gives way to best and worst scenarios,
    prettier people, better times, but all I can recall
    is the running toilet and your snores in the hotel
    off Spencer Highway not that far from home.

    If I’d known how to get to the sky, I would have
    but the song hadn’t been written yet, and you?
    You went blind in Napa Valley, while I learned
    to sail on the Chesapeake Bay, sunning myself
    under a multicolored spinnaker, unfurled.

  32. Marcia Gaye

    100% Sure

    You tell me that you worry
    You might say or do
    Something that would cause me
    To stop loving you.

    I tell you go on, try it.
    Do your best, or worst.
    Some things may break my heart,
    I still love you first.

    You’re the reason that I can love,
    Whether we laugh or cry.
    Breathe without fear. You are safe here.
    My love can never die.

    [none of my formatting stays in place, but I guess it doesn't really matter. The word "can" should be italicised.] This was conceived to be from me to my daughter, but it sounds like from Jesus to any of us.

  33. jacquemlane

    100% of nothing’s still nothing

    Right. Write. Rite. Richard Wright.
    Was a Black Boy.
    Mother made him fight.
    When he came home crying
    they beat him up that day.

    White woman.
    Soft hands, soft feet, thin skin.
    White as a sheet.
    Has never even seen a fight.
    Must be her sight. Site. Sigh h h t.

    He faces
    family, religion, communism, racism, poverty,
    meritocracy, stereotypes, critics, hunger, elements, the
    CIA and the FBI
    his fight for rights is to write

    She faces
    a wall
    a clock
    of nothing

    they both give 100 percent.

  34. SylviaE

    100% Cotton
    Nothing sucks like cotton
    cotton q-tips
    sweat from feet
    terry towels
    bloody sani-pads during a cycle
    even pesticide herbicide fungicide
    it eats them all
    it’s rolled smokes
    made money
    appeared on a modest wedding day
    cool cotton sheets for lovers
    gags for crooks
    wiped dust from a sexy cowboy’s lips
    it welcomes the baby and covers the dead
    Cotton 100%

  35. Suba

    100% Mom

    It all starts from the day you find
    That you are going to have a child
    The day one of first worries
    Of course along with the flurries
    Too, of a whole lot of delight!
    You never even start to expect
    This is exactly how it’s going to be
    Throughout your life whatever you be

    Now, that’s what is called 100% mom

    Starting to take care of you more
    As it’s not just you anymore
    Where did all the carelessness go?
    Oh, now you can’t afford that so
    Yes, there is no limit for that joy
    When you first feel that girl or boy
    Now don’t you already revolve
    Around this little one? Vow!

    Now, that’s what is called 100% mom

    From here, and then onwards
    Life just happens with no forewords
    Fun and frolic, laughs and love
    Fills your life; that’s just above
    All the fears and sorrows too
    Where is all that carefree life?
    Now it’s just a distant dream
    Still you do want only this
    For all your life and beyond

    Now, that’s what is called 100% mom

    One day you are the best mom ever
    Next day it is ‘I hate you’, you hear
    By that time you are the expert
    To know it’s all just the outburst
    So what, you know for sure
    You are the one they run to first
    Be it a scrape, or just an ant bite
    Math problem or friends issue

    Now, that’s what is called 100% mom

    Where did you start?
    Where did you want to go?
    And where are you now?
    Feel like lost the track
    So many things you gave up
    You could have been a star
    Could have been a pro
    Some way or other earned may be more!

    Now, that’s what is called 100% mom

    Oh, so many things you saved though
    From so many first tiny stuffs
    First tooth, first hair, first shoe…
    Foot prints, hand prints in ink blue
    To so many special notes of
    ‘Mommy, I love you’, ‘Mommy, get better soon’
    Every Valentine’s Day card, every mother’s day card
    Every little memory in all those DVDs and USBs

    Now, that’s what is called 100% mom

    Would anything really compare?
    To all the treasures you gathered
    That’s why you go on even when it’s all….
    Work, work, and more work
    Is all the magic word now
    Cook, clean, wash, drive
    Do repeat all over tomorrow.
    It will all be worth it you know
    When One day they’ll truly know
    You gave your life and soul 100% for them!

    Now, that’s what is called 100% mom

  36. bclay

    Late as Usual…

    100% Dreamer

    You will forget her in
    the first dream tonight,

    as overdramatic delta-waves
    will rip-tide young lovers apart;

    rapid eyes will feverishly search
    until lucidity awakens itself alone.

    She will be a brunette the second
    time you meet in an unknown cafe,

    identical coffees will be confused but
    that faint familiarity of an out of season

    Lisianthus bloom will nudge your neocortex
    linking past memories in unchronological love.

    Stage 3, Stage 4, the recurring will gravitate semantics
    into a newer language of three dimensional pictograms, whole

    without commas and question marks, but shaded with contrasting hues
    and fragrances that Synesthesia envies in chasms of interconnected stimuli.

    And you will awaken multiple times, deep inside, to be lulled by circadian sirens,
    whose tongues metamorph to warnings of alarm clock – tortures of odysseus’s ears.

  37. Marjory MT

    100% BEAUTIFUL
    Waiting for your coming,
    as nurtured by your mom,
    you steadily were growing,
    nine months forever long,
    to this day of your arriving.

    100% BEAUTIFUL
    This tiny gift of you
    just yesterday arriving
    with eyes of baby blue
    your fingers, toes comprising
    a full twenty count is true.

    100% BEAUTIFUL
    You – a tiny angle bright.
    (Thank You, Lord)

  38. randalljweiss

    I guess this falls into the “found poem” category.
    “100% Juice”

    100% organic cranberry juice
    from concentrate,
    water, high fructose corn syrup, sugar, Red #40, natural and artificial flavors, sodium benzoate (for freshness)

  39. MeenaRose

    My poem can be found here. http://meenarose.wordpress.com/2012/04/04/2012-april-pad-challenge-day-4/

    100% Beautiful
    By: Meena Rose

    A snow covered mountain glistening in the sun,
    A lone row boat upon a pristine lake,
    A weeping willow rustling in the breeze.

    A carefree child playing in the park,
    A happy baby smiling to the world,
    A couple in a lover’s embrace.

    A morning jogger out running the weather,
    A proud homeowner tending their garden,
    A stranger offering a helping hand.

    An artisan lost in their craft,
    A writer who has found their voice,
    A dream seeker who has started their journey.

    Everyday scenes that surround us,
    Everyday scenes that deserve recognition,
    Everyday scenes we have become blind to.

  40. Christod


    I can’t give it all to you, you understand-

    My all is onion peel in a paper bag,
    layers with an outcome
    and a danger-skin that holds me
    in like an rubber band.

    I could hand me over if you
    want to skip to the bite then
    get to the point where I drive
    you to tears,

    but all I will say is: that is what all of me is.

  41. Kayla

    100% Pink!

    Pink is my new favorite color!
    Why? They ask me.
    Because it’s the color of strength
    The color of hope and courage
    Faith and love

    Pink was the color of my face
    and the the faces of many others
    When passing the finish line of
    the “Susan G. Komen:Race for the Cure”

    And pink is the color that she wears
    on her final day of radiation….

    Congrats, Mom!

    Her daughter, 100% Proud!

  42. Golden Rule

    100% Inspiring

    Fly little bird fly
    Defy the laws of gravity
    You can succeed against all odds
    Though you suffer from depravity
    Mount up on wings like eagles
    Soar boldly through the storm.
    Reject the status quo
    And don’t conform to the norm.

    Fly little bird fly
    Dream big and never let your dreams die
    Complacency is the enemies lie
    But contentment will get us by
    So reach for the galaxies
    And know the limit is the sky.

  43. Akua

    100% Real Juice

    if it’s packaged, it’s processed
    handled, collected, in unnatural quantity
    plucked from air or earth, plant or tree
    gathered months or years before
    you buy it in the grocery store
    where it waits, gleaming artificially
    below pulsating supermarket fluorescents
    in a bright celebratory shroud, winking,
    coffins stamped with inedible ink

  44. Benjamin Thomas

    100% BEEF: Stem Cell Burgers

    The reviews are in…
    All are raving for
    the 1.2 inch
    mouth watering
    100% beef stem-sation!

    What are you
    waiting for?
    Come now and satisfy
    your petri dish palate
    with rich 0.5 gram dining pleasurables

    Special offer
    Only $330,000.00
    For limited time only
    It’s simply lab-delicious
    Get it now!

    *Fat grown separately

  45. erinne

    100% Whole Wheat

    I’m healthy and pure
    and if you eat me I’m sure,
    you’ll grow big and strong
    and do more right than wrong.

    Some call me bland or dry but
    that makes my crust really cry.
    Uttering those words equals 5 sins
    for I’m rich in, like, 10 vitamins.

    Since I’m grainy and cool I’ll let it slide,
    soon that enriched stuff will go out with the tide.
    Afterall, once you go 100% whole wheat
    you’ll find there’s really no better treat.

  46. Rosangela

    100% Unpoetical







    A 100% bad poem is now 100% over!

  47. Catherine Lee

    Hi friends, I’m phoning this one in after an incredibly long day. I hope it makes sense when I read it in the morning. :)

    100% Zero Sum

    I don’t believe in karma
    But I do believe in scales —
    Not the grayish things
    That fell from my eyes
    The day they opened —
    But the tipping kind
    That seesaws
    On a precipice,
    The swaying kind
    That judges weight —
    Not the pounding kind —
    It’s the balance
    That I hang in
    Like the pendulum
    Of time

  48. Nimue

    100% Happy ?

    compalints growl in the head
    as the probability games unfold;
    “he loves me-he loves me not”
    love after all is a hyped emotion,
    I say to my words and smile
    “for this moment,he is just mine”
    I need no justification from him
    neither would I voice my doubt
    “to be happy now,love is all about?”

  49. Marie Elena

    Some more of my faves:

    Paula’s Sunshine
    De Jackson’s Silliness (LUUUV ME SOME SILLY!) and Rain (Did that take you, like, 3 hours??)
    Everything Walt (my main’ish man)
    Michelle’s 100% Beautiful
    Claudsy’s Humidity
    RJ’s Genius
    Ely’s All of Me

    And Anders? You ROCK!

  50. Genevieve Fitzgerald

    What is 100%?

    Between either and or
    Between all and none
    There is some

    Between light and dark
    Between night and day
    There is evening, dusk, twilight, the gloaming,

    Between zero and 100
    As between one and two
    There hides infinity

  51. mschied

    100% Packed

    Books, shoes, clothes, pens,
    lamps, cups, plates, spoons,
    knives, cleaners, shelves,
    movies, CDs, cards and PC,
    that zen-framed pic that doesn’t match
    my burgundy decor,
    flowered couch and tweeded chair,
    TV sans DVD cover,
    mops and brooms and vacuum, too,
    gooseneck lamp and accordian files,
    desk, no, soon-to-be vanity,
    chess set and boombox,
    clocks and cellphones 1 and 2,
    mirror and curtains,
    medicine cabinet misc.,
    laundry detergent and dish,
    plus all my hair froofroo,
    coffee table and dresser,
    bed frame and stool,
    one last stand, shove it in
    that’s the last that I see
    is that it, is there more,
    oh, no, just me.

  52. unscriptedlife

    I’m a huge How I Met Your Mother Fan, so this one is all about my favorite character Barney Stinson! If you have not watched this show, I totally recommend it!

    100% Stinson

    There’s a way of living,
    that is really top notch.
    It will leave you feeling epic
    from your smile to your crotch.

    But there are rules to live by,
    a dress code to follow.
    Trust me, bro — This lifestyle
    is almost too awesome to swallow.

    Rule on is simple,
    but it’s one you can’t ignore!
    You have to Suit Up,
    if you really plan to score.

    Stick with me,
    and I’ll teach you the code.
    The rules to success,
    I’ll be your best bro.

    I am the ultimate wing man,
    Just call me your broda.
    All you’ll ever need
    to take home every Mary and Rhoda.

    This new life for you
    is no light load to carry.
    But trust me, it is going to be
    Legen… wait for it… DARY!

  53. Melissa Hager

    100% Me (And Then Some)

    From the moment I hollered
    “I’ve got a girl!” I hoped she and I would blend.
    When I was pregnant with her, I loved pink and glittery nail polish.
    Would she rub off on me?
    Usually, I would rather watch Tar Heel basketball
    And curse refs than worry about manicures.

    She was only ten on the night she convinced me to read Twilight.
    We were getting pedicures.
    (She and my best friend had me sandwiched between them.)
    I sat sandwiched between them at the movies, too.

    On the second Tuesday of each month
    She insists we must go to Poetry Hickory.
    Even though I am many times exhausted,
    I gladly take her. It thrills me she wants to
    Hear what others have to offer.
    (Go Bill, Go Nancy! Go Tyree, Go Scott!)

    As music has meant so much to my life, so it is in hers.
    She plays guitar, drums, and piano and sings like a bird.
    She mastered a Pink Floyd tune after playing guitar for only a month.
    Sang the song and played guitar for her whole classroom.
    People cry in our church when she sings.
    They cry when I sing, too, but not for the same reason.

    Best of all, she loves to write.
    100% me and then some!

  54. hurtin-heart

    100% SEXY
    Your eyes are as black as night,
    Yet they sparkle beautiful and bright.
    And everytime i gaze into them,
    everything around seems to disappear.
    Though you are completely opposite of me!
    You never fail to make me smile
    or bring out the best in me.
    Our friendship has held strong through many storms,
    And i would not jeoperdize what we have for anything.
    So my true feelings for you i keep hidden away
    But you are and will always be 100% sexy to me.
    Samantha tinney

  55. Dyson McIllwain

    100% SCOTCH

    I am a Scot through and through!!
    When I’m full of Scotch I still am too!
    Just like me, an acquired taste;
    both blended and very smooth.
    A dram of Scotch whiskey will soothe my soul,
    two drams of Scotch whiskey, I’ll loose control.
    I am a drinking Scot and a Scotch drinker am I,
    but please don’t mind me when I’m “coming through the rye”
    unless I’m in my motorcar, then get out of my damn way,
    I am Scotch through and through!!

  56. deedeekm

    100% Now

    To cover tiny feathers
    Huddled shivers
    Bony slivers in
    The wind of changing
    Seasons look for
    Reasons to continue
    On this journey
    Spread your wings
    And feel the sunshine
    This is your time there
    Will never be another
    Like this second
    By our reckoning
    Sky beckoning
    Fly now

  57. Dan Collins

    100% Homer (A Hearse is a Hearse, of Curse of Curse) – An Abecedarian

    Zephyr’s young,

    voice unharnessed.

    (Trojan spears

    quiet Patroclus –

    Olympians neigh
    mounting laments – keenly

    javelins impale)

    Hera’s gift 

    fore-spoke early death

    before Achilles

  58. Charles Cote

    100% CARBON

    More like 18.5% in humans, carbon,
    the larger part oxygen, the suspension
    in water carbon that we’ve become,
    so much attaching to carbon,
    tetravalent carbon, and no life exists
    without it, though silicon’s making
    a run and it’s denser, the foundation
    of all that’s artificially intelligent
    and one day might mate
    with carbon, but for now our lives
    revolve around carbon, good old
    number 6 carbon (watch out
    for silicon), ambitious, versatile
    carbon, the graphite-opaque-soft
    to diamond-abrasive-clear carbon,
    the same-yet-opposite carbon,
    paradox of carbon, never wasted,
    sober carbon, the it won’t sublimate
    like us carbon, over-achieving carbon,
    it forms a universe, 10 million
    compounds from carbon, but who’s
    counting, carbon, the basis of all life,
    Good God Carbon, the coal-clothes-
    pencil carbon, write carbon,
    wear and eat carbon, get engaged
    with it, always engaging, all surrounding
    carbon, cutting-lubricant carbon,
    conductive-insulating carbon, the same
    yet different carbon, the Nat King Coal
    carbon, sharper than glass, smooth
    as oil, made in the image of carbon,
    must be like God carbon, pull it
    together carbon, shine down
    and in the ground, everywhere
    carbon, 100%, not really, carbon.

  59. Michael Grove

    100% Yours

    I think that you should know these things by now.
    I hope you have it all figured out.
    I’m all in when it comes to loving you.
    I want you to live life without a doubt.

    You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of.
    With you there are no gates or heavy doors.
    You are the epicenter of my world.
    I’m forever 100% yours.

    By Michael Grove

  60. Linda Voit

    100% of the vote

    Even in Wisconsin in 2012, they passed unanimously –
    Senate Bill 356 and Assembly Bill 468.
    Leave it to co-ops to show how working together
    makes for a better world. Credit Unions

    lobbied for passage. And what did they win?
    The right to donate twice as much
    to their communities. Member-owned.
    Not-for-profit. Changing the world.

    Linda Voit

  61. Sharon

    100% Renewal

    Clouds drift in, 100% full of snow,
    a little late in the year,
    but welcome just the same.

    The weatherman,
    sorry, meteorologist to be gender cool,
    yet weatherman no matter what the name,

    Says moisture is on its way,
    we’re happy as can be,
    we don’t even care if it interrupts our game.

    We know our dry southwestern soil
    is thirsty for the water snow will bring,
    and we’re thrilled, despite the cold, that it finally came,

    To bring 100% renewal
    to land parched so long by drought
    and to help our attitudes to 100% reframe!

  62. Connie Peters

    100 % Love

    God gets blamed for a lot of things:
    storms, sickness, misfortune.
    Yes, He is sovereign
    and hard to understand at times.
    But one thing I know
    and I’m entirely trusting in
    is that He is
    and Loving.
    In fact, He IS love.

  63. Jacqueline Hallenbeck

    100% and then some

    When God handed out looks,
    I was busy writing poems.
    Some quite funny and off the hook…
    When God handed out looks,
    I was eagerly devouring books,
    letting my imagination roam,,,
    When God handed out looks,
    I was busy writing poems.

  64. seingraham

    100% Certified

    After all my years in the system
    I have to admit, I was jealous
    Maybe envious is the more appropriate
    Word – whichever, the feeling
    Surprised me – who knew?

    My room-mate, another nutty fun one
    To be sure; I hadn’t liked her at first
    But after a week of listening to her
    Maniacal stories and the good-natured
    Kindnesses flowing as naturally as breath
    All day every day, I confess,
    She was growing on me, she was

    But this latest thing – I hardly knew what
    to say; she literally flew into the room
    Screamed delightedly as she threw herself
    Across her bed, waving a piece of paper
    As if it was a map to buried treasure or
    At the very least, the way out of there …

    “Look! Look!” She shoved the paper to me
    “I got certified!” I took the paper and stared—
    Sure enough, the very official document
    She’d been waving about said exactly that-
    Two doctors were signing her, against her will,
    Into the psychiatric unit of the hospital
    For thirty days – and she was not allowed
    To leave even then, unless they decertified her.

    She was officially there just “for observation”
    But anyone who was familiar with the system
    Knew at least one person, usually more than one
    That had been signed into hospital involuntarily
    And either had a great deal of trouble getting out
    Again or, worse case scenario, did not ever
    Get out again – the more I recalled these people
    The less I envied my friend her piece of paper.

    She spun me out of my reverie asking,
    “So – have you ever been certified?” I debated:
    Should I spare her feelings and lie, or be honest…
    Oh hell – she probably wouldn’t even care
    I copped to the truth and shook my head,
    Tried to pretend that it was one of the great
    Sorrows of my life – for the briefest moment
    I thought I caught a shadow flit behind her eyes

    Then, she bubbled back, her usual cheery self
    “Don’t worry – you come her lots, right?”
    I nodded – there was no getting away from it
    I was hospitalized on a pretty regular basis
    Back then, and I’d told her as much before I
    Realized confiding in this chatterbox wasn’t
    Perhaps the wisest move I could make …
    “Well, it’s probably just a matter of time,”
    She announced confidently. “I’m sure you’ll
    be certified sooner or later …”
    Yeah – I could see why she might think so;
    I began to hope she was wrong on this count.


  65. Walt Wojtanik


    Percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent,percent, percent.
    Percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent,percent, percent.
    Percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent,percent, percent.
    Percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent,percent, percent.
    Percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent,percent, percent.
    Percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent,percent, percent.
    Percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent,percent, percent.
    Percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent,percent, percent.
    Percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent,percent, percent.
    Percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent, percent,percent, percent.

  66. gtabasso

    100% is Never Enough

    When you give to your job and they take
    and take and take, when they tell you
    your best is not good enough,
    40 hours or 45 hours or 50 is not enough.

    When you sleep and drive and work and drive
    and work and sleep and drive to keep your house,
    pay the bills, put a pittance in the 401(k).
    No time to exercise, family, friends,
    pat the horse on the nose and give him
    a carrot. Never enough time.
    Never enough rest.

    And for that, they will fire you
    in the blink of an eye, no loyalty,
    no retirement, no future,
    no turkey at Christmas.
    You give more and get less,
    become less, so thin
    eyes hardly open,
    so fat thighs hardly close.

    Sit at a desk and do something
    that means nothing until you die.
    And, when you die, the world goes on —
    contractors bid without you;
    mechanics fix cars without you;
    welders and machinists work
    without you or your news;
    jams and jellies are made
    with high-fructose corn syrup
    whether you exist or not;
    metal is forged and machines turn.

    Only now, you can finally give
    a 100% shit less.

  67. Rosemary Nissen-Wade

    100% — Does It Exist?

    For instance, this is now Autumn —
    except some days it’s more like Summer
    and other days bits of Winter creep in.
    You can’t say ‘100% Autumn’,
    not with real meaning; you can only say,
    ‘These are the official dates; the season
    is this long, between here and here.’

    Something more measurable, perhaps?
    ‘He ate 100% of that orange.’ No,
    he didn’t. Not the rind, not the pips.
    ‘She lost 100% of her money.’ But
    money is this imaginary thing
    that we pretend is real. We even
    give it physical form (sometimes;
    for now) and yet what you lose
    is the value it represents — which
    is variable, artificially created. And truly,
    someone will probably feed you, etc.

    What about absolutes? 100% of nothing
    is absolutely nothing. Only, like money,
    there’s no such thing as nothing.
    Go on, point to it! It is merely
    an abstract concept with no reality.
    Find me, if you can, one skerrick
    of nothingness. It can’t be done.
    And don’t be trying to blind me
    with quantum physics. We live
    in a Newtonian universe, which is all
    filled up with something: many
    pieces and kinds of something,
    everywhere you look or listen or touch.

    100% of everything? Ah —
    that has credibility.
    That’s logical (magickal). Look!
    We can’t see how far
    the Universe extends, and maybe
    there are others beyond.
    Maybe it never stops. We can’t
    apprehend every detail. Nevertheless
    everything, all there is, all of it,
    100% —that makes sense. We can grasp it.
    (Some of it literally.) It’s really there.

    The building material of the Universe,
    so we are told, is Love. I believe it.
    (OK, this you might have to
    take on trust.) Everything, then,
    is Love. It makes the grass grow
    and the planets move.And for sure I can say,
    I love you — 100%.

  68. Sheryl

    100% of Me

    I slogged through paying the bills,
    a sore throat one of my ills.

    My body continued to slouch;
    100% of me thumped on the couch.

    This poem is not sublime,
    But at least I got it to rhyme.

    Robert said write poems for PAD.
    He never said they couldn’t be bad.

    Sheryl Kay Oder

      1. Sheryl

        J.lynn,Jacqueline, and Linda, I’m glad my crash-landing inspiration gave you all a smile. I’m no C J Clarken, but I love to write silly stuff. I’m lying low today, but am not that tired, at least not right now.

  69. omavi

    100% Addictive

    This is not the normal dream even
    The nightmarish haunt through acrid fantasies
    As feet get scorched trying not to touch ground
    This is not Shakespearean three cackling witches
    Poking through your eyelids while
    Using a cattle prod to probe a nesting mind
    No this is sweet memory replayed
    Till even the air tastes honey sweet
    This is not even a blank white canvas
    Inviting you to create that beautiful revelry
    This is just an injection directly to your soul
    Creatively recombined from every sight seen
    Spiced with taste and sound and fingertips
    A lore planted in the freshly till soil of your brain
    Making spoken history that seems so ancient
    You pay homage akin to an heirloom
    Gene rationally passed along
    This is just the simple words of complex
    Meaning and toxically charge to arouse
    Aromatically laced to entice the ears
    To swoon and pause and inhale the sound
    Try as you might you keep waking up
    But you reality never seems to come
    Caught in a mesmerizing rhythm
    This is the dream that never let’s go
    The lover that will never let you down
    The promise that creates the perfect bond

  70. amelia louise

    100% Me

    irrationally brilliant
    ironically hilarious

    Teller of Tales

    hardly emotional
    hopelessly courageous

    Teller of Tales

    utterly believable
    unbelievably sane

    Teller of Tales

  71. suzibee

    100% Poof!

    Eyesight going
    Knees flinching with each step
    Hands swollen and stiff
    Missing and/or fake teeth
    Thinned skin
    Hair the color of steel wool
    And that creepy feeling of
    entering a room and forgetting why
    or where, whatever it was I wanted

    Potty training, walking, talking
    and being understood
    Jumping through hoops from
    kindergarten to grad school
    (if you’re smart and lucky)
    and then navigating through
    the job market

    While making mistakes
    bumping up against what is
    for what you want or need
    Or wish were different

    The 100% surety of life that is
    not a straightaway
    but a hairpin-turn, bumpy riding
    obstacle course of highs and lows
    Change, always change,
    taxes and death

  72. rfoster

    100% Almost Exactly

    i am Absolutely Unsure
    about the Awfully Good
    yet seemingly Calculated Spontaniety
    of the Calm Storm.
    if it wasn’t Burning Cold
    i am a Clever Fool
    for the Deafening Silence
    was Almost Exactly
    Deeply Superficial.

  73. Walt Wojtanik

    BATTING 1.000

    The anthem nears completion,
    the crowd in restless roar,
    the F-15s sound lean and mean
    to fly over like before.
    The finals notes resounding
    in “the home of the brave” last call
    The last intone is heard at home
    the umpire yells “Play Ball!”
    The first pitch of the season
    sails toward the plate,
    the pitcher wished he had it back,
    the “CRACK” exclaimed “TOO LATE”
    A high fly ball to center field,
    that’s Mr. Spaulding’s plight,
    the batter whacked it from the park,
    that hit is still in flight.
    Oh, somewhere in this favored land
    a batter has struck out,
    but not here in dear Mudville,
    one for one, now that’s some clout!

  74. Sally Jadlow

    100% Blond

    She can’t put two and two together,
    or remember where she left the keys.

    Algebra is beyond her comprehension;
    sentence diagrams, too complicated.

    Driving directions might as well be avoided;
    the same goes for recipe instructions.

    But her heart is full of love which she shares freely;
    with anyone who calls her friend.

  75. foodpoet


    At what point does chocolate become too strong?
    Some say never dark and strong is smooth as silk.
    But 100% dark?
    98% was enough for me almost bitter, espresso version of chocolate.
    A small bite and a sip of coffee or tea, a time for a slow end
    To a busy day.

    I am not sure I can handle the 100% bar.

  76. cam45237

    100%+ (Past Perfection)

    When my father went to school he got 100s on all his work
    Papers, quizzes, tests. Daddy was a very smart boy
    Good with words
    Good with numbers
    Facts, figures, all the important markers of achievement, of excellence
    He graduated with a 99.44% – the legendary purity of ivory soap
    Cause a perfect 100 was not allowed to be possible
    Back in the day
    They believed perfection was an ideal and a goal
    Strive for it but never, never reach it
    Cause I don’t know,
    The universe would end, implode upon itself if perfection
    Were ever

    100% isn’t enough anymore
    Some brilliant mathematician back in the I don’t know seventies or something
    Discovered that it was apparently possible
    to exceed 100%.
    First by 10% – a whiff more effort than the most effort possible
    But now its doubled, tripled
    People bandy about 500% like its nothing
    The skies the limit now
    Where will it stop?
    A million?
    How much more can you ask of me than my all?

  77. posmic

    100% Red Roof Inn, St. Clairsville

    50% of us are watching Cat in the Hat.
    25% are typing this now (the other 25%
    is currently indisposed). 0% of us slept
    well last night; we were 90% aware
    of each other’s rhythms, breaths.
    We are, collectively, 70% happy to
    be here, among 25% of our family,
    who 100% wanted to see us,
    wish we lived closer, not a drive
    that takes 75% of our waking day.
    Between our last visit and this one,
    our older child went and lived another
    50% of her life. Our younger child added
    another 100% of a new person to his
    baby self, perhaps in rings, like a tree.
    Those years. We are trying to be
    100% present, equal to the love
    we receive, which meets 100%,
    crosses over toward cliché, easily
    110%. We can’t give 110%; we are
    maintaining a solid 80%. 100% of us
    think that’s pretty good, though
    50% of us are 100% certain
    we could never give enough.

      1. posmic

        Thank you! Family travel with young kids … They grow up so fast, they really are totally different each time we visit, and it’s such an undertaking that we don’t do it often enough. Am now holding down the fort while my husband calls locksmiths — keys to rental car are locked in trunk. Am now at maybe 30% …

  78. mlcastejon

    Hi there,

    How is everything? I don’t have too much time to comment in all your poems but I read them (almost always) the following day. Before off to bed, my poem:

    Fifty, fifty

    sometimes music
    sometimes noise
    one day bright
    one day pitch black
    somehow tiny
    with big words inside
    I feel you close
    when I’m far away
    Even when puzzled
    I know it crystal clear:

    Half devil, half angel
    100 % addicted to you.

  79. Sara McNulty

    April 4, 2012 – Day 4
    100% ________

    100% of a Brain

    We have all read
    how small a percentage
    of our brain
    is utilized.

    What is the prediction
    in terms of potential
    wisdom? Are only
    the more intelligent
    people who attempt
    to expand their minds,
    able to use more
    of the brain?

    What is the prognosis
    for those of lesser
    learning, who stretch
    the taut rubber band
    of their brains?
    Are their parameters
    a limited percentage
    of those deemed
    smarter starters?

  80. RJ Clarken

    00% Oxymoron

    Big sip, de-regulation law,
    rational ravings, perfect flaw,
    false evidence and baby grand:
    They’re oxymorons, by demand.

    A quiet riot, bright-sun shade,
    o sweet sorrow, just like homemade,
    a wise fool, whole part, strongly bland:
    They’re oxymorons, by demand.

    She’s pretty ugly, growing small,
    the guest host, front end, parking stall,
    some jumbo shrimp and silky sand:
    They’re oxymorons, by demand.

    Random order, sinfully good,
    a social outcast, plastic wood,
    it’s sight unseen, taped lived, crash land:
    They’re oxymorons, by demand.


  81. Jane Shlensky

    100% Blank

    The expression
    “no one’s home”
    comes to mind
    when I look into
    your eyes, a field
    so unsown with
    ideas or questions
    that no hint of reason
    or meaning abides.
    I’ve known cattle
    and sheep and
    a few stunned
    songbirds who
    but never a person.

    Lao Tzu admired
    uncarved blocks
    and empty slates,
    no harm to the state
    in what he assumed
    was untapped potential.
    Would he, looking
    into your eyes, see
    another path to
    The Way, a pristine
    walkway, devoid
    of color, stones,
    growing things,
    snares or potholes,
    or would he merely
    see himself,
    looking back?

  82. Arrvada

    100% Pure

    I’ve tried to stay true
    Through all the years
    To what I was
    When consciousness first began
    I’ve tried to retain the joy
    The faith, the hope, the innocence
    But who can retain the light
    When darkness crushes in
    When we are told such naivety
    Is a waste of our time
    But I’ve tried
    So desperately tried to remain
    One hundred percent pure.

    1. Janet Rice Carnahan

      Could certainly feel the impact of, “Darkness crushing in”. “Faith, the hope, the innocence” is so much lighter! Very nice!

  83. SharieO

    100% Ordinary Day

    This day is greeted by
    Early bright sun and
    birdy song sounds

    Delicate beany brew
    Wafting in waves
    Shakes slumber away

    Task list begins
    Forming its plan
    For a busy beaver day

    Laundry begins washing
    While dinner thaws and
    Beds are made pretty

    Day progresses to eve
    As lots of to do’s are done
    Shrinking the list hourly

    So all that is left
    Are the hugs and kisses
    Goodnight and sweet dreams

    Surely not a day of high
    Adventure or surprise
    Just another happy-ish ordinary day

    1. JanetRuth

      100% heaven…these ordinarish days…I had one a lot like this, and I smiled as I left their rooms after hugs and good-nights and the call-back for an extra hug…100% heaven! I LOVED this poem, SharieO!

  84. Bruce Niedt

    Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt: Write a blues poem.

    100% Poet Blues

    Well, I’m a 100% poet, baby,
    I write verses all the time,
    Yes, I’m a 100% poet, darlin’,
    I’m writin’ verses all the time.
    You ask me why I do it –
    well, there ain’t no reason or rhyme.

    Well, I can write you a sonnet,
    haiku, pantoum or villanelle,
    Yeah, I’d love to write you a sonnet,
    haiku, pantoum or villanelle,
    but don’t ask me for a sestina,
    ‘cos I can’t write them so well.

    I love to write about love, y’know,
    like Shakespeare and all them guys.
    Yes, I love to write about love, babe,
    like Browning and all them guys.
    So let me write a poem ‘bout you, baby,
    an’ I’ll start by describin’ your eyes.

    Well, your eyes are a constellation, baby –
    that’s what they call a metaphor.
    Yeah, your eyes are a constellation,
    that’s what they call a metaphor.
    I could write a thousand of ‘em for ya,
    ‘cos that’s what poetry is for.

    Well, I’m a 100% poet, baby,
    I don’t know if you give a damn,
    yes, I’m a 100% poet, baby,
    I don’t know if you give a damn,
    but if you’re gonna get to know me
    you’ll have to take me as iamb.

    1. lionmother

      I LOVE THIS!! No wonder everyone is raving about it!! It’s genius. You’ve made a blues poem out of being a poet!! I also love the last line – so cool: “you’ll have to take me as iamb.” Terrific and you deserve all the praise you are getting! This should be put to music and could be a hit.:)

  85. Michele Brenton

    100% certainties?

    I like being in my room
    typing, reading, sleeping.
    I like going for walks,
    quacking at ducks,
    searching rock pools for fish
    and anemones and mermaids.
    I like the beach in the dark
    and sea sparkled moonlight.
    I like people. I want to be with people.
    But I’ve never quite worked out
    where I fit with people
    who aren’t my very close people.
    People who need people
    are the luckiest people?
    People who fit with people
    are the luckiest people –
    that I am 100% sure about.

    1. Janet Rice Carnahan

      What a sincere read, Michele! Love the quacking at ducks! Yes, there is a definite art to fitting it. I think when we don’t, we can throw a real fit! :)

  86. ceeess

    100% Random Etch of Dream

    Most flowers are yellow.
    They leach their colour from
    fingers of the sun.
    Where silent thunder shakes
    the furrowed turgid trees
    the wind, frozen blue, cries
    through every rising storm
    in canyons of cloud.

    It has been hot for many days,
    a relentless wall of heat,
    turning the land to cracked pewter.
    Every river is dust, crops
    shrivel and bake in the sun.
    Houses become tin ovens,
    hot enough to bake bread
    if there were wheat and leaven.

    From inside each mirror
    a glimpse of faces, their
    long and narrow stretches
    distortions of muscle,
    age furrowing a slow etch

    and the blue ghost of a garden.

    Carol A. Stephen
    April 4, 2012

  87. J.lynn Sheridan

    100% Tomboy

    Blue bandana’d hair, split
    toothbrush jammed in rip-ped front coverall
    pencil pocket, cricket carcass behind one ear,
    gotta love this Jaguar Gina if I’ve ever
    seena one I’ve seena two, you wanna believa me, you
    do, and I’d never dream ‘a her marrying one single boy o’ man alive,

    she reeks of barf and bangles,

    leaving skin on tree trunks, flags
    of blood for haw hawing red-tailed hawks,
    instead of fasting on the skinny meece fed on white
    meat of earwigs and roly polio’s, they feed on her, shimmy-
    she-shimmy down salsa style, love tied like halo’s around her
    dimples that shine whenever sandy little man of war sneaks around.

    She reeks of barf and bangles, this Jaguar Gina do.

  88. DanielAri


    and my voice starts to climb as I tell Jim I agree
    government reeks with waste, but screaming
    Foul at any mention of tax—like it’s Satan itself—
    is the kind of zip tie that will get our city’s over-
    taxed police force slashed a third time in three
    years, leave potholes deep, and turn national
    parks into National Brand parking lots. It’s not
    a matter of which team you’re rooting for, Jim.
    We have to know that everything we can think of
    is not completely anything—it’s all closer to fifty-
    fifty, so we all need allowances and concessions.
    One time in the bush, Sgt. Gary Balow said move
    the line forward. We’d been sitting nearly twenty-
    four hours, and the field ahead was all quiet—but
    we never knew anything for sure. Even that we
    were too hot and smelled terrible wasn’t bedrock
    knowledge because we could’ve sweltered more.
    Balow said the forward field was clear, 100% sure,
    and he gave the order. Ten yards up and the bush
    turned to crackling fire. That’s the math of life and
    death. It’s a myth that one plus one equals exactly
    two. Balow was one who did not get home, though
    even that fact is not wholly true, as his remains now
    rest a few clicks from his birthplace in Marietta—
    and that’s another town going to seed these days.


  89. Mariya Koleva

    I find it hard to keep up with both Asian and American prompts these days :-D I will get tuned in, I’m sure. In fact, I’m 100% sure!

    You are 100% awesome!
    I’m 100% there for you!
    Are those eyes of yours
    100% green?
    Or I am only
    100% taken in?

    100% stunning –
    that’s how I see you
    100% stupefied –
    that’s how I get
    when I finally see you
    for looking at you
    blinds me

  90. Monik

    100% love! One percent is for your love, two percent is for God above, three is something that goes with you, all the others don’t have a clue. 100% makes me see that I get YOUR love for free.

  91. vincegotera

    100% One Hundred Percent

    All boils down to this.
    All’s fair in love and war.
    All for one and one for all.
    Every Tom, Dick, and Harry.
    Every mother’s son.
    Jack of all trades.
    All in a day’s work.
    All the world’s a stage.
    The whole enchilada.
    Soup to nuts.
    Everything but the kitchen sink.
    The whole nine yards.
    A hundred and ten percent.
    All roads lead to Rome.
    Everything’s coming up roses.
    All over the place.
    The whole ball of wax.
    All sweetness and light.
    Sky’s the limit.
    All’s well that ends well.
    As far as the eye can see.
    Seen ‘em all.
    The whole shooting match.
    The full monty.
    All that glitters is not gold.
    $64,000 question.
    All your eggs in one basket.
    Everything is relative.
    All comes out in the wash.
    All thumbs.
    Everything must go.
    Everything happens for a reason.
    When all is said and done.
    Everything’s everything.
    Everything isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
    That’s all she wrote.

    by Vince Gotera
    by Vince Gotera
    Blog: The Man with the Blue Guitar

  92. Brian Slusher

    100% FAITH
    “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

    So an astronomer is on the radio
    saying planets are about to
    align, and at exactly 9:47 AM
    the Jovian-Plutonian Gravitational Effect
    will float you a moment if
    you just jump into the air when
    he says NOW!
    But it’s April 1st
    and Dignity tsks from his Shaker
    chair. All those cans of nuts that
    hurled snakes into your face
    yawn before you.
    But what if this
    is the test angels pass/fail to cut
    loose the anchor of the world?
    It’s 9:46—laughter’s buoyant
    too. See you in the blue.

    1. Linda Voit

      Great! All those cans of nuts that hurled snakes into your face. . . and the juxtaposition of what if — ah faith! This is really great Brian!

  93. De Jackson

    With gratitude to Anders Bylund…

    100% Silliness

    Oh, what a wonderful
    world we weave
    when words we practice
    to receive
    roll trippingly, skippingly
    off the tongue
    a brouhaha of floofy fun

    Croon cockamamie
    who cause a
    while hootenanny
    and hocus pocus

    It’s raining words,
    grab your bumbershoot,
    then dance the samba-mamba
    in your zippidy-doo-Zoot suit.

    You can call me a pettifogger,
    but I’ll gesticulate a little longer,
    ’cuz compared to
    regular words are just
    such a drag.

    Here’s a doozy
    that’s lots of fun:
    Oh, shenanigans!
    Don’t like that one?
    Save it for later?
    Shall I write in a

    Okay, this
    almost through
    with her flibbertigibbet
    wordle stew.
    But I’m hungry for
    widdershins wordplay…
    Aren’t you?

  94. Tracy Davidson

    100% Natural (a double shadorma)

    I saw you
    looking at my breasts
    if nature
    had received a helping hand
    to inflate my chest.

    But I swear
    on my thirty-eight
    double F
    lacy bra
    what you see is what I got
    when puberty hit.

  95. RJ Clarken

    100% Helium

    O Helium, you noble gas,
    in nature, you’re abundant as
    those bright balloons you cause to rise.
    O Helium, you take the prize.

    You’re unreactive ‘til someone
    inhales you. Then…those squeaks. What fun.
    Still, don’t breath in – word to the wise,
    ‘though, Helium, you take the prize.

    In cryogenics, you’re well-known.
    Re: liquid rocket fuel, you’ve shown
    why scientist will emphasize.
    that Helium, you take the prize.

    The Periodic Table names
    you after Hydrogen, but frames
    you safer. They hypothesize
    that Helium, you’d take first prize


  96. Agnija Bharathi

    100% Blank

    Harsh April tropical Sun

    Shining search lights through eyes,

    Turning inward, etching prosaic

    reality into sharp relief, too strong for poetry.

    Nope. It’s no use

    I turn up 100% blank,

    Not blank verse, as I intended.

  97. Nickie

    100% mine

    my car
    my office
    my house
    my raise
    my family values
    my way
    or the highway

    my money
    my rules
    my military
    my right to bear arms
    my moral majority

    my tax cuts
    my corporation
    my 1%
    my loopholes
    my church
    my entitlement

  98. Walt Wojtanik

    100% MY FATHER’S SON

    He was Walt as I am Walt,
    and his father was before him.
    We shared so much, our ways
    and such, as I carry on today.
    He, a man quite good with wood
    but didn’t say a lot.
    Me, a man quite good with words,
    but as with word, quite not.
    He taught me things,
    he bought me things,
    he wrought me with his demons.
    And I was swell,
    and I rebelled
    and inherited his demons.
    But, there was a man, despite his flaws
    loved his family just because
    we gave him joy. Every girl,
    every boy, and Mom the glue
    that mended us, nurtured and befriended us
    and protected us ’til we knew better,
    she’d make him a saint if we had let her.
    But, Dad was rather quite assured
    mistakes he made would not be cured
    we learned to live within his world
    until he up and left it. And now,
    bereft it we hold onto all he gave.
    I got his eyes, artistic style,
    I got mom’s nose, her eyes, her smile,
    I got his skill and sad addiction,
    I embrace her warmth, his dereliction.
    But all-in-all, on helluva guy
    in his workshop in the sky.
    I have his name, I have his fun,
    100% my father’s son.

  99. Natalija

    Sheep hair dyed
    and spun into skeins
    sitting on my desk
    in a huge colorful mess

    waiting to be knit
    into something fine
    round after round
    to the shop they’re bound

    Surina needles
    sitting in a cup
    wondering why
    they’ve not been picked up

    a red broken counter
    a journal of patterns
    inspiration on hold

  100. Michelle Hed

    100% Beautiful

    She walks with grace, gliding across the room
    her skin is flawless, with a golden glow
    conversations stop, she brightens the gloom
    men’s eyes follow her, but she does not know

    the effect she has, she is just herself
    someone you wish to be, humble, divine
    filled with qualities you strive for yourself
    her smile a beacon, beckoning like wine –

    your left with parchment in your month, as she
    lifts the soup ladle, sharing laughs and care
    with the homeless souls, who need her to be
    just the way she is, with kindness to spare.

    One hundred percent, her beautiful soul
    shines from within, causing us to feel whole.

  101. claudsy

    100% Correct

    “The little lady down front is 100% correct!”
    How can that be correct, when factors flow as water,
    During each second of the question’s answer?

    Each breath creates new conditions, redirecting life’s steps
    Onto paths as yet unseen, unknown until actuality appears,
    To add to previous knowledge concerning that path.

    Each thought, word, and action take the user
    On a joy ride, designed within the user’s response,
    Determined by perception and intent as to correctness.

    Does consensus decided something’s correctness,
    Leaving each person knowing one reality
    While others live in separate aspects of it?

    Should I believe what you say, knowing I
    Have a different reality from your sense of right.
    Can anyone be correct about anything in life?

  102. uneven steven


    nothing is,
    Yoda says,
    and he should know dying and everything
    and still doing the ewok boogie…..
    everything is,
    Yoda says,
    and he should know Master and everything
    all that oneness,
    feeling the flow, past, present and future,
    an already has, is and will be
    kind of thing
    and He knew, the young one,
    journeyman, apprentice, lost searcher
    and finder
    in the embers of Dearth
    a Father, a poem, a symbol,
    a pictured idea from nothing
    into nothing,
    the constant motion of the universe observed
    in perfect
    emptiness and everything
    one big W(hole).

  103. claudsy

    Another good one, Robert. Everyone is up and writing early again. Bravo!

    100% Humidity Out There Folks

    And still pavement waits for rain,
    Disguised under its carpet of dirt
    With footprints scarring its surface,
    Waiting for fat drops to splat and stain.

    Prayers danced in circles, call forth
    Relief from Earth’s ravishing thirst,
    Call forth dancers to join rhythm beats
    From drum and foot, always circling.

    Belief of dancers rises to Heaven’s ears,
    Creates wind to drive Rain’s stampede
    Across land cracked by Sun’s gaze while
    Voices join drum in supplication.

    Soon Rain’s front strangles ground’s throat,
    Rushing, pounding, driving those beneath.
    Feathered dancers glory in prayer’s end,
    Glorying in The Creator’s answer.

  104. Buddah Moskowitz

    100% is the Only True Number

    100% is the only true number.

    Everything else
    just appears to be
    a fraction.

    I cannot prove any of this
    but I suspect
    it is all together
    in one living

    Duality and
    as one.

    There is no there,
    just the long,
    faraway continuation of

    The good news is
    there is no God
    who is separate
    from who we are.

    There’s only God
    and included in God
    are the believers
    the unbelievers
    the nonbelievers
    the abelievers
    the logical positivists
    the scientists
    the materialists
    the atheists
    the agnostics
    the yin and the yang
    and the double yang.

    Don’t be fooled by this
    convenient shared illusion

    that there is a you
    that is separate from me,
    and there is a them
    that is separate from us.

    There is
    no chocolate cake,
    no cardinal in the tree,
    no breathless orgasm,
    no Yogi Berra,

    just God
    in the guise of
    chocolate cake,
    a cardinal in the tree,
    the breathless orgasm
    and Yogi Berra.

    There is only one

    and this is how you spent
    the last two minutes
    of it.

  105. Anders Bylund

    100% Mine
    One, two, three
    You belong with me
    Perfect ten
    Come my way again

    We’ve both been down, both been around
    Give a gram and take a pound

    You’re mine, all mine
    One hundred percent
    Tasting wine
    When I catch your scent
    One hundred percent
    One hundred percent

    Twenty-four, seven
    Your arms are heaven
    Need you with me

    We’ve both been down, both been around
    Give a gram and take a pound

    You’re mine, all mine
    One hundred percent
    Tasting wine
    When I catch your scent
    You know my intent
    One hundred percent
    One hundred percent
    One hundred percent

    (Yes, I’m back to writing song lyrics again. And yeah it’s cheesy. Picture Eddie Money or maybe Backstreet Boys here.)

  106. Janet Rice Carnahan

    100% Love

    Not just the romantic kind,
    Coming in like a flame of passion,
    To be blown out with the wind,
    Of a harsh reality!
    Not just the love of a parent to a child,
    Going through all the many phases,
    Of life in an ongoing battle to grow,
    And yet stay connected.
    Not just a deep love of nature,
    Respecting all the intense beauty,
    Of color, spectacular timing,
    Consistent change,
    In an ongoing traversing of landscape,
    Survival and moments of existence,
    Perhaps brief in time.
    Going deeper than a love of family,
    Understanding the depth of a lifelong bond,
    Whether in the same community or not,
    With memories of laughter and love,
    And childhood giggles when parents are out of sight,
    Wonders of a starry night!
    Even standing up bravely to what isn’t right,
    Doesn’t belong or goes against a felt degree of order,
    Perhaps with the swift fire of lightening,
    A sharp no to what cannot continue,
    Has in it the element of love,
    Even when it isn’t immediately felt or seen,
    Or noticed easily. Still, there for the sake of love.
    Perhaps love is like a seed, always there and present,
    Even as we eat the fruit and throw away the skin!
    It is at the bottom of and the reason for all things,
    In the end, it is existence itself.
    All of love is a living exchange of beauty,
    Alive force in the Universe,
    One constant, moving and guiding force,
    Keeping all on this earth,
    In a rthymic presence,
    Of purpose,
    Like some giant unknown,
    Cosmic unfolding Love Plan,
    A dance of delight,
    All day and night!

    Ah . . . time for coffee
    And I do love coffee!
    As I search for pelicans in soft flight,
    Just outside my window.

    Dance on Love, dance on and please pull me into,
    Your sweet and endless harmony!

  107. Catslen1

    100% rate increase

    We endured the weeks with no heat or power
    during last winter’s storms
    And the destruction of property from tornado’s,
    which for this area, is out of the norm.
    The weather created jobs for contractors and handymen
    while the insurance company’s paid the bills, making us whole again
    Now as a result of the catastrophic weather in the New England States
    our new insurance bills reflect a 100% increase in rates.

  108. Joseph Harker

    Fully Human

    I am sick to death of being named
    abomination just because
    some bearded patriarch decided on it,
    millennia ago, or because some old Roman
    got his tunic in a twist
    on the way to Damascus. You don’t need
    letters from “love” to spell “humanity”:
    I’ll have my body on no matter what.

    And I am sick to death of being told
    thou shalt and thou shalt not,
    being abbreviated and trumped-up all at once,
    denied permission for this right or that
    all because of a compass needle
    pointing south.

    And when you crack my head
    against the stone, the same blood runs out.
    I breathe and sob and spit; I dream.
    The same twirling ladders run my length,
    and none of them are the inheritors
    of sin from sinners I never met,
    who never met me.

    And I will tell you what will happen to you
    once you’ve washed the tar and mud
    from my name and my skin: nothing,
    but the satisfaction of knowing
    that you saw a silhouette and knew it for
    what it was. Maybe your cousin, brother, son,
    a whole perfect similarity of a person,
    no more, no less.

  109. Jane Shlensky

    100% Fumigated

    When you left,
    I took to smoking
    small fruity cigars
    and pretty pipes,
    tamping pungent
    peachiness into
    my father’s
    meerschaum pipe,
    an old man’s head
    carved into it,
    his beard and fez
    surrounding the bowl
    like fingers around
    a windpipe.

    I puffed away
    the taste and
    smell of you,
    blue clouds reaching
    into corners where
    your smells remained.
    Then I opened windows
    and doors, letting
    fresh starts blow
    through those rooms,
    washed away any
    residue of you, and
    baked cinnamon
    bread with honey
    and apple pies
    to sweeten
    any bitterness
    and rescent the air
    to newborn neutrality,
    the smell that was
    becoming the smell
    that is.

  110. Michaela

    100% Blank

    Staring up at this face above me
    Concern etched upon his features
    Unknown to him, fear consumes me
    My mind is 100% blank

    Sitting up, looking across the room
    Bags with gifts, balloons circling
    The television on, but I don’t see
    My mind is 100% blank

    Taking the first few steps
    Painstaking and slow
    What should it feel like
    My mind is 100% blank

    Driving home
    In the passenger seat
    My family all around me
    My mind is 100% blank

    The world swirling around me
    A car accident like the last
    I wake up to that face
    My mind is 100% blank

  111. MDoctor

    100% Sale

    The saleslady greets
    me, with a welcome smile.
    I have no choice but to retreat.
    As I jog to the nearest aisle,
    I hear her heels clicking the floor.
    She point’s to a sign “SALE”
    I glance at the door,
    I know I have to bail.
    She began her chant
    Her evil rant!

    “10% off all heeled shoes,
    7% off gray shirts,
    3% off anything blue,
    9.9% off little pink skirts,
    .1% off patterned socks,
    5% off colored skinny jeans,
    5% off fake blonde locks
    57% off bikini style underwear,
    1% off all pairs of shorts,
    2% off women’s swim wear
    Which direction should I point you, would you like some clothes for sports?”

  112. RobHalpin

    100% Concurrence?

    in order
    to post a comment
    to Poetic Asides during
    April’s Poem-A-Day Challenge, respectfully request
    more bandwidth be allocated
    and faster servers
    be emplaced

  113. De Jackson

    100% experience tells me what I’m about to try only works about 30% of the time, for me. So…we’ll see…

    100% Chance of Rain

                                         slightly salty in here
                                  what with your slanted smile
                              and my propensity for precipitation,
                            my antediluvian days long giving way
                          to deluge, torrential downpour, streams of

  114. laurie kolp

    100% Boy

    My son’s best lookin’ eight-year-old in town
    Lord, my son’s best lookin’ eight-year-old in town
    And he still looks good when he’s feelin’ down

    Oh, he’s a sheep; my son’s a sheep like me
    Oh, he’s a sheep; my son’s a sheep like me
    We were born the same, creative and dreamy

    A drive of passion steers him through the day
    Yes, a drive of passion steers him through the day
    And when his mind’s made up ain’t nothin’ make him sway

    My son, he’s every bit a boy
    Oh, my son, he’s every bit a boy
    A hundered percent a boy, my son’s a joy

  115. barbara_y

    100% Sleepless Blues

    The world weighs on my shoulders like a load
    All the news hangs on my shoulders and it makes a heavy load
    The world has eighty lanes of trouble and a narrow, twisty road

    My mind is full of nothing but a buzz
    My mind is ear to ear with a white-noise buzz
    Sound like mad cicadas; taste like bread mold fuzz

    Walking through the morning in my sleep
    I’ll be walking through the whole day half asleep
    Ask myself what happened, and myself won’t make a peep

    Met a man who had a smile to match the moon
    Like the night between the clouds full of the moon
    Don’t know what makes him so happy, but I want to find out soon.

    Coffee in the morning, candy noon, and wine at night
    Coffee in the morning, candy noon, and wine at night
    What doesn’t make you happy, will keep your pocket light.

  116. MiskMask

    100% Yellow

    She picked at the spiced
    dough on her fingers,
    bejewelled golden
    raisins and apricots,
    cardamom and cinnamon
    that lingered in sweet
    warm aromas of rich
    gilded colours. Her
    fingers were stained
    amber, and the tip
    of her nose was powdered
    yellow with pollen.
    Surrounded by spring
    her head was awash
    in the scent of spiced
    hot cross dough as she
    inhaled April’s arrival,
    drinking up the scent
    of her 100% yellow

  117. RJ Clarken

    100% Genius

    “Genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration.” –Thomas Alva Edison

    So if I sweat an awful lot
    I’m nearly genius, am I not?
    Now, if my muse adds one percent,
    then Edison – I’m what you meant!

    But if my muse won’t go the stretch
    I’ll be a less-than-genius wretch.
    Thus, tricking her is my intent.
    Dear Edison – that’s what you meant?

    Hmmm…how can one but trick a muse
    so she’ll inspire and not refuse
    to sweat it just one small percent?
    Hey Edison…that’s what you meant?

    I know! I’ll up the ante some.
    I’ll give her two. She will succumb!
    Pure genius! A wee supplement –
    Gosh, Edison – that’s what you meant!


  118. claudia marie clemente

    *100% Quantum*

    in the quantum,
    uncertainty is 100% everything.

    until i have observed it, i do not know
    my own typing hand.

    but what about this strain between my ribs
    when i imagine your quirky, half- smile

    that you will not check
    with your hand soft above where my heart should be.

    instead you leave it unproved and aching
    it wrestles, writhes uncertain,

    100% maybe
    not even there.


  119. cindishipley

    One Hundred Percent Certain

    The day the world ends
    we will be standing
    on a precipice, a dark
    rock of sharpened stone,
    and finally you will hold my hand.

    Gold filigrees of dust
    will be wiped away by grey
    lines. Large drops of water;
    the tears on my face outdone.

    The ground will steam,
    the air suddenly will breeze
    across us, as if newly
    awakened. Our clothes
    will shimmer and stick to
    the outlines of our bodies
    in fat, sloppy creases.
    Our hair will turn black,
    our fingers wrinkle silently.

    I know you will let go,
    and I will walk away into the
    gray landscape, not bothering
    to wave a last goodbye.

  120. PSC in CT

    100% DISTRACT-

    -ifying to see… (eye opening really!)
    schedule eye doctor appoint-
    meant to say how it is to be need…
    -ing groceries: milk, eggs, bread (!)
    ca$h – to deposit at…
    (food) bank drop of—
    water… plants! Plant those…
    pansies, petunias, forget-me—
    Don’t Forget that package to post;
    poem too! (Do I really want my face
    [book] online?) Twitter to tweet (!)
    bird-feeders to fill the car[-pet cleaner] with gas
    -p! Stop! Pause! BREATHE!!
    (Is that on my To-Do list?)

  121. dextrousdigits

    100% sure I am one day older
    100% sure my joints & muscles have aged months
    in the last 24 hours.
    There are lumps in muscles the size of hamsters
    which may actually be moving around in there.
    Joints rubbing enough to create smoke signals
    reminding me I’m no longer 40, 55……
    100% sure working from 7:30am to 9:30pm,
    pushed my body to the physical limits
    and my brain a critical master whipped me with self doubts.
    100% sure I’ll probably do the same thing today.

  122. HannaAnna

    100% Scream!!!

    Something’s crawling on my arm, so I look down, I can’t see it, but it’s there,
    so I brush it away.
    Something’s crawling on my neck, I can’t see it, but it’s there,
    so I brush it away.
    Something crawling on my cheek, oh why won’t it go away?
    I reach up to wipe it off.

    Slapping myself in the face, I wake up from the strange dream.
    Something’s crawling on my hand, so I look down.
    I see the biggest cockroach I’ve ever seen in my life crawling on my hand.


  123. Dare

    100% Blank

    my page is 100% blank
    words kidnapped by silent thieves
    vanished as fog in the morning sun
    is there a pot of lost words
    somewhere beyond my reach

  124. ely the eel

    All of Me

    It’s 100% responsibility I’m taking
    for the friendship we’ve been making,
    so that when there’s zero percent in you,
    I’ll have enough for two.

  125. Marianv

    Our soap is now 100% pure!

    Our finest scientists are 100% sure.
    A new observation proved the usage of a
    chemical integration makes our soap 100% pure!

    Our suggestion is that you try it today
    No more beating around the bush
    Dirt and grime will wash away.

    Rub it gently over the temple of your body
    Activate the bubbles that de- activate the acid
    And the sting is gone, your children won’t be sobby

    Mothers and children, everyone will smile
    Our soap will alleviate the harshness of the bath
    We will have a cleaner world in just a little while.

  126. Michael Grove

    HAIKU on 100% (3)

    One hundred percent.
    Put everything into it.
    It’s all or nothing.


    Don’t even start it
    if you’re not going to give it
    one hundred percent.


    One hundred percent
    of nothing is still nothing.
    The hand is empty.

    by Michael Grove

  127. Anders Bylund

    The Poem-A-Day search tool is back again at http://gowrite.me/pad.pl

    Please excuse the mess — moving to the new blog site wreaked havok upon my scripts and there’s probably some fixing-up to do. For example, direct links to postings don’t work correctly right now but will be fixed before the end of the month. Clicking on my name should bring you to the tool if the web address is hard to remember.

    1. Anders Bylund

      Links work now. Please note 2 things: links to posts from previous years are permanently borked by the site move, and this fancy new nested structure doesn’t quite follow to the search tool. Not yet anyway.

      1. De Jackson

        “borked”? ;) Is this a real thing? The word lover in me is literally doing a joyful little jig right now.
        “permanently borked by the site move”…seriously. The real world holds so much poetry all on its own.

  128. Dare

    100% Skeptical

    I’m 100% skeptical
    Of that I am sure.
    But alas, I can’t be
    And remain Skeptic, pure

    I must question my knowledge,
    It’s ways and it’s means.
    And eschew what is certain
    There’s no in between.

    Can I know what is real?
    All these questions remain.
    Am I Skeptic or not?
    This will drive me insane!

  129. competitivewriter

    Disclaimer: this is not a confessional.

    100 % Douche bag

    My picture hangs from the rear-view mirror of my car

    I wear two polo shirts at the same time

    My designer shades are always on my gel crisped hair even on rainy days

    Hang on – I have to answer this text

    My skin is a shade of burnt sienna (Thank God for spray tans)

    I go to the gym to admire my biceps in a full length mirror

    I’m looking for a girl who doesn’t mind when I point out another girl hotter than she is

    Man, I swear – another text

    I can always have excuse to show you my abs. Want to see them now?

    I love the sweet nectar of energy drinks.

    You might say I have no manners. I say you’re a prude.

    If you want to know more – send me a text

  130. dextrousdigits

    100% Dead

    There are those who walk and talk,
    but are 98% dead.
    There are those whose life
    is a daily rerun of a silent movie.
    There are those who live
    looking behind them,
    backward to a time gone.
    They have kin who always say tomorrow.
    Some numbed by the novocain injected
    by stories, fables, myths, and propoganda
    live in sociable delusion.

    Then there are those who are 100% Dead,
    no beating heart, no pulse, no brain waves
    NO Live body.
    Cremated, placed in the ground.
    But whose ideas, actions, words
    beat in my brain,
    run through my veins,
    lodge in my cells.
    I feel their presence
    and to me they are alive

  131. CMcGowan

    “100% Dedication”

    When you know you’re licked

    before you start,

    And you feel the pain swell

    in your heart.

    But you don’t give up, you don’t rest

    You tell yourself to pass this test.

    When your body is sore and

    your mind aches,

    And you want to quit,

    even faint.

    Keep pushing on, the next elation

    giving always dedication.

  132. Walt Wojtanik

    100% Gone

    The mornings still have their chill,
    and the dew on the grass glistens
    as I listen for the first bird’s song.
    It has been a long time since
    you had winced in pain; a drain
    on emotions so raw that they bled
    bright red and dripping with pathos.
    Instead of letting your memory fade,
    I parade it out each and every April
    just for the thrill of sharing my poetic
    victories with you who urged and pleaded
    that I take up the gauntlet and run.
    It has been fun and sad and heartening
    and made me glad that you had returned
    to say your goodbye. Try as I might,
    I fight the feeling of not dealing with your loss.
    You matter as much, and as such
    will always lace your time into my rhyme.
    My words once written become eternal,
    your love once buried became more
    heartfelt and missed. I had kissed your photo
    for luck as April 1st began. Standing
    in my rightful place to face the challenge.
    You’re gone, but still I manage
    with words of 100% love for you.

  133. PassionateQuill

    100% Country

    Up with the dew
    vapors rise in sheets  from 
    the valley streams below 
    my breath leads me through
    blue-grayness as grass and nestles cling
    to damp boots traveling this path
    well worn from many early mornings
    rough hewn boards of the barn, still
    lifeless and gray on the outside is even now
    teeming with life inside 
    the ring of the latch as the gate swings free
     is met with the low call of livestock 

  134. Kendall A. Bell

    100% fun

    Kurt said in his suicide note
    that it would be the worst crime
    to rip people off by faking it
    and pretending as if he was having
    100% fun, and I think it’s a bit
    of an exaggeration.

    There is nothing fun about bleeding
    the pen and putting every fiber
    onto a sheet of bleached paper,
    or onto a vast internet where
    all you reveal finds permanence,
    or into a song where you’ve pained
    over every verse of lyric, every
    chord you’ve played, with a
    obsessive perfection.

    When I think of 100% fun,
    I don’t think of anything I can do
    in my every day life.

    I think of that Matthew Sweet album
    and the song “Sick of Myself” and
    how I saw him play at Roseland Ballroom
    and how he played for nearly three hours
    almost making me miss the ferry back
    to New Jersey, and how I had to direct
    the cabbie to the NY Waterway, which
    was both pathetic and sad. Luckily,
    I managed to catch the next to last
    ferry, at 12:50 am on a weekday.

    That wasn’t even 5% fun for me.

  135. Margot Suydam

    100% Sure

    Yesterday’s trailer park jaunt set us on fire
    Yeah, yesterday’s trailer park set us on fire
    Burned all we kept buried beneath bedposts

    Blue skies can explode into pellets of rain
    Yes, blue skies exploded into pellets of rain
    Put a damper on all that shifts in the mist

    I’d wait perched spindly on limbs far too long
    Yes, I wait perch spindly on limbs too long
    Let hope bleed down my legs before sparrows

    The chant of choirs can redeem even earthquakes
    Yes, the chant of choirs redeems earthquakes
    Even on this, I can almost make you a promise.

    1. Brian Slusher

      Your imagery is intriguing, like “Burned all we kept buried beneath bedposts” and “Let hope bleed down my legs before sparrows.” I like the way the language seems to speak plainly, but still has a mysterious aura (such as in the lines I quoted above). For me, the poem says the surety is that nothing is sure. Good stuff!

    2. DanielAri

      I like this very much. Love the blues-song structure and the mystery of the specific content. It leaves the mood centerstage without specifics to distract. Powerful piece, IMO

  136. De Jackson

    100% H2O

    About three-fourths,
    her science book says
    like Earth itself.
                   But she doesn’t
                   believe it.
    Her bone and skin
    and sinew and vein
    all bleed blue. (Brain
    too, in waves.)
                             to keep all she is
                                        spilling loose

  137. Brian Slusher

    100% SPRING

    In the yard, something fluctuates. I walk towards the forsythia, to get a closer look, but nothing. Then I see another wiggle in the air by the daffodils. I run this time, find zip. I’m beginning to think I’m losing it, when a golden spring of wings scribbles past my nose, and my insides flutter like a plucked string.

  138. Beth Rodgers

    100% 50%

    It’s hard to feel completely solid
    And sure
    When resistance rears its ugly head
    Every chance it finds.

    You’re ready to give your all
    When there’s a shake-up
    The opposite of a windfall
    Which tears your world apart
    Startling you.

    The ferocious
    Glaring inconsistency
    Of life
    Is just that
    Always a smidge below the rest
    Waiting for you to fail.

    Optimism must reign
    In order to obtain serenity
    And lose that feeling that
    Half of your being
    Is lost in an abyss
    Waiting for retrieval
    By the other half of you
    That’s struggling to keep your head
    Above water.

  139. lady maggie

    100% = X / X
          When what I’m really bad at’s loving you,
          the best I do just makes me all the worse
          the upside down and inside out reverse
          what you expect of me.   Sad déjà vu
          how we’re divided by ourselves, into
          each other one on one, our mirror’s curse
          as absolute as math.   I can’t coerce
          more truth of it than what you think most true.
          And so we’ve nothing left.   Completely done.
          Undone’s more like it.   No more to have shared,
          since giving all’s the same as having none
          and we’ve already taken all we’d dared.
          Consider me love’s void.   I’m not the one
          against whom all your loves should be compared.

      1. lady maggie

        Thanks. Sadly it’s but one of those many 100% thresholds that divide us. Like how we can’t exceed the speed of light outside of science fiction, we hit that absolute limit of 100% when what one thinks true is not thought so by the other, not unless we stretch the math into the realm of fantasy. At last, that’s the answer my iPhone’s calculator gives as the right percentage. Maybe mine’s broke….

  140. Mystical-Poet

    100 % SELF

    self absorbed in self-abasement
    self critical in self-effacement
    self centered egotistical son of a bitch
    self imposed self-seeking guardian of rich
    self employed self-image self esteem
    self appointed self love self-supreme
    self-conscious self-contained self-confidence
    self styled self-preservation self defense
    self righteous self respect self vindication
    self portrait self revealing self admiration

    ~ Randy Bell ~

  141. kenia_cris

    I’ve put NaPoWriMo and Poetic Asides prompts together today and here’s what I got:

    100% blues

    I kept your letters under the pillow
    I kept your letters under the pillow
    Buried all pain underneath the willow

    I kept a photo of you on the mantelpiece
    I kept a photo of you on the mantelpiece
    It never sleeps without a goodnight kiss

    Your smile engraved on my retina
    Your smile engraved on my retina
    The taste of you still on my lingua

    Darling, maybe now it’s time to start over
    maybe now it’s time to start over
    Forever you’ll be my four-leaf clover.

  142. Jane Shlensky

    100% Gone

    The clothes and shoes,
    toiletries, linens,
    kitchenware, and
    curtains went last
    week, to charities,
    all food preserved
    or frozen to soup
    kitchens and shelters.

    Furniture, lamps,
    and vases begged to go,
    some aged beyond
    use, trucked away.
    The hard work came
    with jewelry, books,
    gifts still packed away
    in their boxes for just
    the right time that
    never came, things
    you touched that made
    you smile, think, remember.

    Boxes of pictures, some
    of people we didn’t know
    but that you did. Should
    we keep them alive at
    least this much? Salvage
    their shadows another
    generation? Your paintings,
    poetry, needlework, plants,
    a few antiques, we haggled
    over, not wanting the bit
    of you that hovered still
    to hear us, but valuing
    still what you valued
    because you valued it.

    Two weeks of sorting,
    of sending away, of
    burning, our lives
    with you trailing in
    lines down our faces,
    and all your disposable
    earthly goods are gone,
    nothing of you remains
    in this house you built,
    rebuilt, warmed, loved.
    We take even the smells,
    the walls and floors
    washed clean, no
    visible signs of you
    or of us echo through
    these empty rooms
    made ready for new
    lives, for you are
    thoroughly gone.

    What shall we do with
    the memories?

  143. JanetRuth

    100% Crazy Every Day

    The way you unzip my heart
    with your half-grin words
    the way you undo my will
    in an almost perfect hurt
    the way you touch me
    from a thousand miles away
    drives me 100% crazy
    every day

    the way you lure me
    with vowels and consonants
    holding me captive
    without resistance
    because the seduction of poetry
    will have its way
    and drive me 100 % crazy
    every day

    what perfect torment
    of soul you have stirred
    in the inexplicable haunting of
    unwritten word
    for Muse oft elusive
    will have her way
    and drive me 100% crazy
    every day

  144. EJ

    100% Scared of Umbrellas

    With their pointy protrusions
    threatening my eyeballs
    at every turn,
    I’m not fooled
    by the makers of musicals
    and their insistence that umbrellas are
    the harbingers of happiness
    when I know
    that a spoonful of their medicine
    goes down in the most frightful way
    and I’m still
    screaming in the rain
    just screaming in the rain…

  145. Nancy Posey


    To round out his academic day,
    Coach taught history,
    likening World War II
    to the Final Four,
    or ninth grade English,
    spouting sports metaphors
    and similes, called the classes
    “Team,” encouraging them
    to “hit a home run!”
    on the state-mandated tests.
    Of course, he taught Drivers’ Ed,
    in the parking lot outside the stadium,
    watching from a safe distance
    as students practiced
    parallel parking between cones
    painted in school colors.

    But he never taught math,
    since he hadn’t gotten past
    his confident belief
    that giving one’s all

    1. seingraham

      one of my own pet peeves since I live with a math-minded man who is oft heard ranting, “it is mathematically impossible to have,give, get etc. more than 100% of anything …agh” great poem …

  146. Walt Wojtanik

    100% FUN

    Martin and Lewis,
    Allen and Rossi,
    Stiller and Meara,
    Cheech and Chong,

    Ben and Jerry,
    Tweedle Dee – Tweedle Dum,
    Rowan and Martin
    all had their fun.

    Sonny and Cher,
    Donny and Marie,
    Ozzie and Sharon,
    the list goes on.

    Wojtanik and Good,
    together again in the PA fray,
    a hell of a way to Poem-a-Day.
    Our reunion tour, return engagement,

    having our laughs with a poem or two
    (probably a hundred before the day’s through)
    Writing our rhymes to earn our next meal,
    we’ll be here all month, please try the veal!

      1. Walt Wojtanik

        100% SERTA

        While she sleeps, I’m counting sheep,
        feeling like a creepy creep.
        1,2,3 she snores at me
        jumping fences lazily,
        4,5,6 her pillow fixed,
        her night light bulb flits and flicks,
        7, 8 it’s getting late,
        Keith is stirring (this part I hate)
        9, 10 these sheep are slow,
        blah, bah, bah 100, I have to go.

        1. Marie Elena

          1, 2, 3
          What do I see,
          Far across the great Erie?

          5 and 6
          As clock tick-ticks,
          Walter and his bag of tricks

          7, 8
          My rhyming mate
          Poeming at alarming rate

          9 and 10,
          Just tell me when
          Walter Woj will sleep again

          Left out 4
          As he writes more,
          Worn-out sheep lay down to snore.

  147. Mystical-Poet

    100 % Indecorum

    from younger students
    on bus ride to public school
    taking lunch money

    100 % Pious

    after baptism
    a bold child draws
    God’s caricature

    100 % Cruel

    I poked the ice
    told you it was safe
    raced you back to the house
    after you fell in

    ~ Randy Bell ~

        1. Marie Elena

          Italian Love Cake.

          Preheat oven at 350. Grease and flour a 9 x 13 baking pan.

          1 Fudge Marble Cake Mix, mix according to box recipe into the 9 x 13 pan.
          Mix well: 2-LBS ricotta cheese
          4 eggs
          1 cup sugar
          1 tsp. vanilla
          Pour slowly over cake batter. Bake. Cool completely.

          Topping: Mix 1 small box instant chocolate pudding, 1 cup milk. Add 1-8 oz. container cool whip. Spread overtop of cooled cake.

          1. Hannah

            Oh, this sounds so decadent, Marie!!! The best virtual Birthday cake I’ll ever consume!! Thank you and hearts to you!!

          2. J.lynn Sheridan

            You just saved me, Marie. My dad’s 82nd is in two days and I needed a cake recipe. He’s not Italian. Do you think an Swedish Englishman could handle it?

  148. Hannah

    ~100% RELEVANT~

    That passing thought
    begging to be written,
    twisting turn of plot
    leaving your readers
    smitten, aching for more;
    store-house-full of wonder.
    The creaking passage of tree,
    street with mysterious name,
    taming of a magical winged beast.
    Talk to yourself now,
    don’t allow your finger
    to meander too long and leery,
    weary, above backspace button;
    begging you to erase this refuse.
    Really it’s relevant, it’ll perform
    you’ll see, give it a chance,
    be willing to hunt and ponder,
    move some words over yonder.
    It cries, “edit me, don’t delete me.”
    It’s poetic soul wishes to please,
    it longs to hear the words…
    “You’re 100% relevant.”

    ©H.G.@P.A. 4/4/12

    1. Imaginalchemy

      What a wonderful mantra…”you’re 100% relevant”…there are so many people that I think need to hear that when they’re feeling low. Beautiful poem.

    2. Hannah

      I’m 100% tickled and teeming with S M I L E S!!! BIG, happy, warm smiles for each of you!!!! This truly makes my Birthday 100% special!!

      Thank you, Marie and Walt!! Thank you for the cake…it is deeeeellliccioouuussss!!! Okay, now you can have a piece, Walt!!

      Imaginalchemy! I’m so glad you took it in and transformed it to a more person-type of being relevant. I’d intended to “go there,” with this and left it unsaid though. Thank you so much!!

  149. Imaginalchemy

    “100% Electric Sushi”

    20% avocado green= the warrior
    10% cucumber crisp= the analyst
    10% carrot shards= the stargazer
    30% rice droplets= the dream collector
    10% nori seaweed= the soul fisherman
    20% crab= when I haven’t had my coffee
    Then a jolt
    A lightning bolt
    A storm of the swirling, sushi-fied brain
    And then I feel complete again

  150. Walt Wojtanik

    100% OF THE TIME (SO FAR)

    My fourth challenge since 2009,
    and every year it never fails.
    Computer woes fly up my nose,
    and glitches and blips will prevail.
    Lost my connection (yes, hard to believe)
    for most of last night, and waited
    ’til dawn to be sure that it’s right;
    that my PC was not constipated.
    For years these four years,
    I’ve been quite obstructed,
    and in spite of the way this site
    is constructed, the warning of posting
    too fast comes around, I guess
    it is God’s way (or Robert’s) to tell me,
    “SLOW DOWN!”

    1. Imaginalchemy

      Wish technology was fast enough to keep up with you…
      I love how passionate you are with your poetry; it is clear how much fun you have with this and how inspired you are to let your thoughts constantly flow poem after poem. It’s infectious. :)

      1. Walt Wojtanik

        That IS my evil plan. To infect you all with my PTD (Poetically Transmitted Delights) so that you TOO can all go forth and infect others. My poetic army is coming together nicely. BWAHA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!

  151. PKP


    In the land of One Hundred Percent, the Free Will girl rose from her pallet and padded on tender feet drew a deep breath in the first light of another Uncertain Day, where despite the lash which cut her tender skin, she would never surrender for ordained constrained imprisoned untrue certainty

  152. Patricia A. Hawkenson

    100% Sure I’m Wearing Clean Underwear

    Advice from my mother
    has never failed me,
    or so she keeps
    reminding me.

    So I leave the house
    with my bed made
    and my bag filled
    with more guilt
    than I will need
    for the day.

    So if it is truly better
    to give than to receive,
    I’ll be glad to share
    with you.

    Guilt, that is.
    Not underwear.

  153. PKP

    Are you sure?

    Do you love me Mommy?
    How can you know?
    It is something that stays and will never go
    But what if another was your little one and not me?
    He asked tiny faced in perplexed angsted agony
    That would not have happened because this was to be meant
    For each to be each other’s I am certain 100 filled -heart per cent

  154. PKP

    A Gal Named Sue

    There once was a gal name of Sue
    Sure of all that she said or she’d do
    She scrubbed up her thoughts
    like the plague avoided all oughts
    In your bed that gal 100% there for you

  155. Marjory MT

    100% QUIET

    Silence is good.
    Like a refreshing breeze,
    a time to be alone
    without being lonely,
    a time to think,
    plan and move ahead
    without ‘noise’
    and intruding.

      1. Marjory MT

        Thanks, My advantage is turning off a hearing aid,
        but I also say that deafness (only about 75%) to me
        Is a blessing – God know I would need a lot of quiet time :)

  156. Jaywig

    Day 4 – 100% blank

    Either Way

    100% is all that I’ve got.
    If you want any at all,
    you must take the lot.

    Or: you could consider
    zero percent – all of that
    is on offer, wherever it went.

    It’s so hard to decide!
    I totally agree. So take it all
    and leave nothing with me.

  157. just Lynne


    was never enough
    back then
    I had to get
    the extra credit
    I remember always reaching
    for that silvery specter
    of perfection
    but even perfection wouldn’t be enough
    to satisfy my appetite
    it had to be more
    I look back at that hungry adolescent
    falling asleep every night
    over a textbook
    angry that she missed one question
    on the math portion of the SAT
    and I wish she would have found a way
    to enjoy being a teen
    I guess she didn’t know how
    so she kept reaching
    for that 100%, then more

    at least now I know enough
    to not care about 100%
    all I want
    is to be content

      1. just Lynne

        thanks! Yes, I’m (just) Lynne. I posted on the other days of this challenge but it didn’t approve for 24 hours or so, I’m happy it let me post on time today. This is fun. -Lynne

  158. PKP

    Cotton to you

    My love is as true and strong and
    soft as one hundred per cent cotton
    he stammered looking at his shoes
    until she raised his face in both her
    hands, and smiled back one hundred
    percent sure he was the one
    a southern gal touched under the
    sweet cotton spun sun

  159. Nancy J

    100% Confused

    I don’t Tweet,
    or Skype,
    or meet in the Cloud.
    I don’t share every
    thought on Facebook.
    I don’t want to be LinkedIn,
    or Googled, or tagged.
    I just want to get together
    with family
    and friends
    in real places
    in real life and
    enjoy the time
    without anyone being
    buzzed, or jingled, or
    hailed by some
    mechanical device,
    without being deafened
    by music or game.
    Is distraction really
    the new way of
    being together?

  160. PKP

    Ivory wasn’t

    It floated
    Was pure
    White and
    Of fragrance
    Infant head sweet
    Yet could the100%
    pure mark just
    could never meet
    It galled me annoyed me
    A child of no more than four
    Sure that they could have been just a little bit more

  161. Ber

    100% of Me

    As I try to come up with a poem
    I give all that I can give
    I do the best to make it clear
    Not let the words go through a sieve

    I look at what is around me
    I tell the stories
    Of young and old
    Brash and bold

    I look in to the eyes of those
    I find fascinating
    I look to find their story
    Of what is happening

    The things that happen in my life
    Have helped me structure my writing
    When I am in my bed trying to sleep at night
    My thoughts and ideas hit me like lightening

    This is when the best ones come
    But I am to tired you see
    To put pen to paper
    It is too much effort you see

    I love to look at a picture
    And imagine the artist story
    I write what I think it is about
    And all about its glory

    So when I write it is from the heart
    I am me pushing myself you see
    To come up with the best description of who I am
    I am 100% percent me

    1. Marie Elena

      Nice one, Ber! Funny how the best thoughts hit us at the worst possible time. I can relate. I’m usually in the shower, or driving, or in bed. Love this: “Not let the words go through a sieve.”

  162. Walt Wojtanik

    A quick reminder: over at POETIC BLOOMINGS (http://poeticbloomings.com) our IN-FORM POET is featuring the form – Tanka. The Tanka is a Japanese poem of five lines. The first and third are composed of five syllables, and the others seven. In Japanese, tanka is often written in one straight line, but in English and other languages, we usually divide the lines into the five syllabic units: 5-7-5-7-7. Give it a try in one of your poems this week. (and bring it over if you’re so inclined) Happy poeming!

  163. Walt Wojtanik


    True and blue and behind you
    all the way, on task and basking
    in the loyalty of the day.
    Such dedication for a pachyderm;
    the early bird might get the worm
    but with him minding the nest
    the best you can hope is
    that the dope doesn’t crush it.
    Brush it aside when the message is sent:
    “I meant what I said and I said what I meant
    An elephant’s loyal one hundred percent”.

  164. Iain Douglas Kemp

    Dear Moosehead,
    I am 100% devastated
    and yet 100% certain revenge will be
    ours and it will be sweet. It was enough to
    have to go into the Lion’s Den without
    having to watching them steal it in the 9th!
    The harpies continue to make my skin itch, c´mon
    pal, help me out won’t ya? Back in the Cathedral
    those gudfernuffin Mets gonna get stomped on
    by the Bleacher Creatures. I’ll stand the dogs
    and beer – pick me up at 11, games up at 12.

    Yours in absolute resolution and certainty
    Ringo the Howler

  165. Jerry Walraven

    “100% Silly”

    Chasing bubbles
    in the back yard.
    Keeping them aloft
    with only my breath.
    Over the fence
    to the neighbor’s yard
    (point for me).
    The next one
    she jumps and pops
    (point for her).
    Chasing giggles
    until sundown
    when she presses
    her ice cold fingers
    to my back.
    In for marshmallows
    with a touch
    of hot chocolate.

  166. PowerUnit

    100% You!

    Your fedora hides your scars.
    Hair killing medicines, poisons.
    Your jean skirt
    hides your once delicious figure,
    now too round for the modern diet.
    Your leather elf boots are cute, I suppose,
    I didn’t pick them out,
    they’re not my style,
    but you favor the support
    of the escalator,
    a moving crutch,
    raising you to the next level.

    You eye the latest fashions,
    the Irish faces, smallfolk cater your whims.
    The artificial flowers in your hair
    dance to your superstore waltz.

    I watch you from my bench,
    my outpost
    I see the woman I joined on a journey,
    the woman I married,
    the mother of my child.
    You haven’t changed
    in my heart.
    You’re still,

    1. Jane Shlensky

      The setting stirs me. I used to love watching the little old men at malls, waiting and watching for their wives. The last stanza renders them kind and loving. Nice one.

  167. Iain Douglas Kemp

    100% & Not a Penny Weight More

    That’s it!
    That’s ya lot!
    That, my dear, is all there is.
    I gave it my all.
    Everything I had.
    I couldn’t have done better,
    I couldn’t have done any more:
    Not 110,
    Not 150,
    Not 1000 000%.
    There ain’t no such animal!
    Fashions come
    and fashions go
    and the pundits have the contestants
    stretched these days,
    into superhuman effort,
    giving way more than they ever could before,
    but, my dear, you see,
    it is a matter of degree, so to speak,
    to coin a phrase,
    100 degrees to be precise.
    So I am afraid, whilst I did my best,
    that was all I could do,
    no million percent effort from me.
    Jus t as much as I (and the ancient Latin scholars)
    could manage,
    That’s yer onions
    That’s yer lot!
    and not a penny weight more!


  168. Linda Rhinehart Neas

    The 100%

    99% occupy while 1% spend
    33% die a tragic death from AIDS
    1 in 7 around the world are hungry
    malnourishment of children
    claims 32.5%

    The statistics leave one weak
    the choice – ignore or act
    turn a blind eye – retreat – or
    fight a good fight to the end
    100% sure that we are all one

  169. PSC in CT

    Good morning early birds! Nothing “wormy” about those offerings, Walt — FOUR excellent kick offs to the day! Thanks for making me smile, and see you again before the day is through — I’m 100% sure of it… well, maybe 9 and 44/100ths…. ;-)

  170. Walt Wojtanik

    Good morning Robert!

    Good morning gang!

    I have a bit of a drive ahead, so I’m off to the paying job.
    I’ve missed you all this morning, and will catch up soon.
    (I hope you guys and gals don’t sleep ’til noon)
    Just wanted to greet you with this advice
    100% of you have a great day (that would be nice!)

  171. Walt Wojtanik


    Don’t get cocky,
    don’t push your luck.
    Don’t take chances
    lest ye be stuck.
    You’re up with the sun,
    but it hasn’t shown yet,
    there’ll be another poem
    posted soon, I’ll bet.
    So before I hit “ENTER”
    I think I might be
    four for four (no in your face)
    I’m sure that I ‘ll
    never keep up that pace.

  172. Walt Wojtanik

    100 CENTS PER

    A buck for everyone!
    It will not feed a lot,
    or lift them from poverty,
    it won’t buy much gas,
    and alas seems small.
    But it’s all it takes
    to make sure a dream come true.
    $254 Million before taxes.
    Five number and a bonus ball,
    that’s all.

  173. Walt Wojtanik

    100% POLISH

    They came from Igolomia,
    they hail Oczwicim.
    Some from Zakopanie,
    the rest near Posnan.
    From the Poland countryside
    with pride and dreams
    of a new land of opportunity.
    They joined in unity to make
    a better life, suffering strife and the unknown.
    They provided my start and
    still live in my heart. Proud of them
    and the heritage they gave.
    100% pure.

    1. Ber

      This is really a good description of who you are and been proud of where you come from is so important i work with so many polish people and they love it here in Ireland

  174. Walt Wojtanik


    It’s early and the worms are giddy,
    the bird is still catching some winks,
    and it stinks that I’m up before the sun.
    One and a half hours until I start work
    and I feel like a jerk
    lurking the poetic pages to find the sages nudge.
    I won’t bulge until I have my coffee, write this piece
    and shake this sleep from my eyes.
    You guys can join when you can, but this man
    is going back to test the snooze alarm

    1. De Jackson

      Love this, Walt. West coast time is rough. By 5am, there are already 30 poems posted. ;)
      By the way, I think you won’t “budge” until you have your coffee? You won’t BULGE until you have your donut. ;)

      1. ina

        De, are you a West Coaster too? By the time, I’ve got the sprite ready for his day, everyone’s already been and done! On the bright side, it means we wake up to lots of nice things to read :)

          1. ceeess

            Well even though I am Eastern Daylight I often don’t get here till afternoon. There can be anywhere from 200 to 500 poems! Or at least comments. Maybe tomorrow I will try turning my day around. But I don’t think I’ll ever be up before early Walt-bird! When I USED TO work, I’d be here by 6:30 and still have missed first spot! Carol