2012 April PAD Challenge: Day 6

I hope the challenge has been giving you plenty to write so far. I can’t believe I’m already 6 poems deep into April (and today’s poem is probably my favorite up to this point).

For today’s prompt, write a hiding poem. You could be hiding. Someone else could be hiding. Something could be hidden. Or maybe there could even be a hidden meaning. I’m flexible with any interpretations poets want to put on the prompt. Have at it.

Here’s my attempt:

“Too Quiet”

There are times
the silence

pulls my pulse
out of me

and fills my
heart with blood

so that it
feels likely

to explode
in my chest

but then I
find little

Will hiding
and laughing

it up in
a corner

and I feel
glad to be

alive and
have a boy

who knows how

to mess with
his old man.


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509 thoughts on “2012 April PAD Challenge: Day 6

  1. mschied

    Poker Face

    It seems set in stone
    like an ivory carving
    shaded with foundation and rouge

    To the unaware observer
    there is little to see

    but to one who knows her well
    the lips tighten in anger
    eyelids drop in defense
    nose flares in frustration
    an eye twitches a need for sleep
    one brow raises in inquiry
    one corner of her mouth raises in amusment
    and a full set of teeth radiate contentment

    Her every wrinkle an open book
    for the world to see

  2. Marian O'Brien Paul

    Impossible to Hide

    Futile, trying to shush the Emperor,
    his voice amplified as if he’d shoved
    a microphone to his mouth or bellowed
    through a megaphone found discarded
    on the littered ground after protestors
    had been rounded up and sent home or,
    with bound wrists, transported to jail.

    I argue with myself. You believe in
    “stigma-busting,” right? You taught
    a course on Literature and Madness,
    yes? You know mental disorders have
    a biochemical basis and are not caused
    by bad parenting, so why can’t you
    just relax when he talks in public?

    Because he’s talking crazy, I answer
    myself (although that word’s charged)
    and I don’t want people shunning him
    or being afraid he’ll act like characters
    in psycho-movies act because he won’t.
    If he were your son, you’d feel the same,
    right? But he is my son, myself says.

  3. Mike Bayles


    Trying to find gold
    hidden in lead
    can be a daunting task
    with all that goodness
    in another substance
    in context,
    something that can only be changed
    if you believe,
    like the effects of words
    from a friend
    who gave me light
    in the midst of misery,
    but now relegated to memories
    shining through years
    when I see
    the glisten of her eyes
    reflections reflected in time
    all that chemistry.

  4. Mike Bayles


    Trying to find that gold
    hidden I lead
    can be a daunting task
    with all that goodness
    another substance
    in context,
    something that can only be changed
    if you believe,
    like the effects of words
    from a friend
    shared with me,
    who gave me light
    in the midst of misery,
    but now lost and gone
    and relegated to memories.
    On a cloudy day
    I look into light of memories
    shining through years
    to see the glisten of her eyes
    reflections reflected in time,
    all that chemistry.

  5. Mike Bayles


    Trying to find that gold
    hidden I lead
    can be a daunting task
    with all that goodness
    another substance
    in context,
    something that can only be changed
    if you believe,
    like the effects of words
    from a friend
    shared with me,
    who gave me light
    in the midst of misery,
    but now lost and gone
    and relegated to memories.
    On a cloudy day
    I look into light of memories
    shining through years
    to see the glisten of her eye
    reflections reflected in time,
    all that chemistry.

  6. cstewart

    Hiding Poem

    He sat in a comfortable chair,
    And looked down as he read,
    His earphones clamped to his head,
    Buffered and in the imaginary,
    He pursued his own thoughts
    Inside his tower of complacency.

    I looked, and he was so far away,
    By choice and by temperament,
    His double binding of emotion,
    And predetermined conclusion.
    We appeared to withstand the stalemate,
    Within which, all winners were losers.

  7. Paoos69

    The Hiding

    A gentile manner
    A sophisticated smile
    That reaches the lips
    But fails to reach the eyes

    A dignified manner
    Almost a chip on the shoulder
    Even so a grace
    That fools a following

    Why is simplicity
    More often taken for a ride?
    Why does that aura of simplicity
    Take all the pride?

    Is the world so naïve
    So foolish in fact
    That it fails to see
    That hiding, that disguise?

  8. Karen H. Phillips

    Day 6

    Write a hidden poem.

    Who knew?

    At the exit opening of the drive-through building
    where I drop off cans for recycling
    at Schnitzer’s Scrap Metal
    I stare at the twisted gleaming pile of silver
    backdropped by muted shades of gray
    and random heron flapping over green boughs
    a sculpture hidden from the world in a junkyard
    mufflers arranged
    worthy of Tara Donovan.

  9. Natalija


    darkness conceals
    all that is real
    that which light
    so strongly reveals

    memories flood back
    in this night’s black
    of a time long gone
    one fondly looked upon

    beneath the years
    laughter and tears
    one so innocent and vulnerable
    replaced with one less gullible

    a time of youth
    long since passed
    years gone by
    with wisdom amassed

    light interrupts
    what darkness obscures
    revealing a truth
    of which we’re unsure.

  10. po


    First, try to look or be poor.
    Better yet, homeless
    or break down by the side
    of the road. Then you
    are only visible to truck
    drivers and good samaritans.
    Second, change your appearance
    to look old, fat, or handicapped.
    Combine any of the above
    and no one will look your way.
    Or, as we all know, wallflowers
    and nerds are invisible
    to the dating world.
    Now, open your eyes, lend your
    heart to the fractured invisibles.

  11. deringer1

    Fine, Thank You.

    Shall I introduce myself?
    just an average person
    trying always to smile and be pleasant.

    friends? oh, sure, lots of them
    always there when I need them,
    always ready for the fun times

    how am I? oh, just fine today
    thanks for asking.
    I am so blessed and doing great !

    Yes, my family is well,
    no, no problems at all.

    How does my mask look?

  12. mlcastejon

    This is something that was hiddend for too long, me.


    Behind other people faces
    Buried my voice
    Muted my dreams
    Living in black and white
    I run in slow motion
    Until the winter came.

    Now my hands are blooming
    Everything is fulll of new hats.

  13. tunesmiff


    Watching the tide roll in,
    Thinking ’bout way back when,
    We were the best of friends;
    What happened?

    Sun slowly sinking low,
    Shadows begin to grow,
    Sorry, but I don’t know,
    What happened.

    Like a buried treasure, a pirate’s chest;
    Two different maps, each with its own “X”,
    Seabirds along the shoreline;
    When did you hide your heart?
    When did I hide mine?

    Footprints in the sand,
    Two lovers hand in hand;
    It’s almost more than I can stand;
    What happened?

    Broken shells wash back with each wave,
    Like the promises we both gave.
    It’s not too late for us to save,
    What happened.

    Like a buried treasue, a pirate’s chest;
    Two different maps, each with its own “X”,
    Seabirds along the surfline;
    When did you hide your heart?
    When did I hide mine?

    Castles blown down by the breeze;
    Didn’t we build some of these?
    Won’t you help tell me, please,
    What happened?

    Standing beneath the stars,
    Trying to find the one that’s ours;
    How did we get this far?
    What happened?

    Like a buried treasure, a pirate’s chest;
    Two different maps, each with its own “X”.
    Shorebirds along the surfline;
    When did you hide your heart?
    When did I hide mine?

    When did you hide your heart.
    Where did I hide mine?

  14. Jamal Abboud

    Ancient And Odd Love
    My love to you is ancient and old
    See, we are living in an odd world
    I have adored you at my earliest age
    Long before I became strong and strange
    Since I was my parents’ heavenly gift
    Sucking at my mother’s holy breast
    Guarding the other with a delicate fist
    And my eyes of selfishness calmly fixed
    Into hers that lovingly watched
    Or when she touched my nose and kissed
    When I clung on to her skirt
    In streets of fears of common reality
    So I weaned on love of your beauty
    Then, I grew up, a man, I thought
    I craved for you and desperately sought
    Among all women, which was a mystery
    Your eyes were in one, the hair on another
    I see you in all women, so I wonder
    Of a fact, here, of a blurred figure
    Am I seeking for you in a feminine coat
    Or for the tenderness of my mother?

  15. cajun75


    Pirates and gold
    Treasure and silver
    Doubloons and coins
    The lure of riches

    Property located
    Many a mile inland
    Mama digging in the dirt
    Under a tree, beside the brook

    Convinced buried treasure
    Was on the land
    But how was that possible?
    Five hundred miles from sea

  16. donnellyk


    Hairpieces and perhaps a “bumpit” for volume and height, camouflage that silver sneaking in with highlights.
    Eyebrow pencil to feather some of those suckers in you overplucked back in the day.
    Eyeliner for the “cat’s eye”, only a steady hand will do, streetwalker sultry.
    Concealer for those dark circles and line your inner eyelid with white pencil, so you fool others you do not party all night or have insomnia. Or are a single mom raising small curtainclimbers.
    Now for some faux lashes, natural look or vampy tramp, be sure to curl them with an eyelash curler.
    For the smoky eye, some khol and highlight those browbones, blend, blend blend.
    Why, there’s no blush on your cheeks, a stroke or two on the apples will do and of course it goes without saying that your foundation must be a nice natural base that can cover imperfections over a good primer.
    Spackle on some high pigment gloss, slide those lips over a nice pearlized set of professionally whitened bicuspids. This only the beginning of creating our top to toe beauty, the “real deal”.
    Smooth pore tightening cream and shea butter over those freckles down the throat to disguise any signs of an emerging turkey neck or crepe skin, slather on scented body cream, preferable with a pearlized glow.
    We have privately tweezed or trimmed hair that doesn’t belong there, on eyebrows, noses, armpits, groin, legs and even across a couple toes where they like to hide, embarassing us when women friends admire our glittery sandals sporting glittering polished and filed toes Neat enough to eat in a “berry good night” shade..
    Make sure your undergarments give you appropriate support, shaping you into as close a perfect female form as what we see in magazines, movies or television, lace is manditory.
    Adorn your arms with jingly jangly bracelets and rings that catch the light (after you have used a good hand moisturizer and your manicure is flawless, and you’ve glued on some artificial nails on those stubby little misshapen fingers if necessary. French style is lovely and “ladylike”.
    Tightly encase your torso with spandex that will camouflage any unsightly bulges. After a nice swipe of some heavily perfumed antiperspirant, spritz yourself with a lovely fresh body spray that has you smelling like fields of poppies. Thoroughly wash your private parts, trim and perfume them so as to not offend. It’s a shame to be without a nice glowing tan, but stockings cover a multitude of spider veins and imperfections, preferably “Control Top” with breathable panty. Sand your feet and lotion them to a baby’s behind softness, toenail paint should match your manicure and your outfit, don’t you think?
    Now don attire that most resembles someone you are not, slip on some stilletos, and POOF we are hidden.
    If we haven’t frightened you off, come in close, We’ll tell you a secret…we will hide in anyway we can to avoid you seeing who we are. We don’t know who we are, many of us. Be gentle, just tell us we are beautiful.

  17. shann

    Sweet Slumber

    must be hiding under the bed tonight,
    maybe it’s gone over the transom
    in the next room, I don’t hear the kids
    stirring anymore, only the rustle of wind
    knocking branches against the windows.

    Too cold for Easter Sunday 6 am service,
    sunrise won’t come soon enough to warm
    the brave few who’ll wake up early to watch
    a fire built on the sidewalk near the garden,
    we’ll light the paschal candle and run inside.

    That’s where slumber will tempt, in the pew
    with the lilies casting sweet spells of scent,
    the candles flickering in morning shadows
    as the sun’s fire rises over tall pines,
    joyful alleluias sung, by God, with grace.

  18. Kaitlyn

    Hush Now, Heart

    Hush now, heart, and
    Quiet your beating.
    You know we musn’t let him hear.

    Please, cheeks, forget this
    Bashful glowing, and hide your
    Redness lest he see!!

    Voice, don’t shake or
    Betray my feelings.
    Hide your nerves and maybe he won’t hear.

    If he sees, then I’m a goner!
    There goes
    Ship, and
    Deck, and
    So all I can do is try to HIDE it.

    All I can do…

    Hush now, heart, and
    Quietly your beating.
    You know we musn’t let him hear.

  19. MeenaRose

    Hidden Treasures
    By: Meena Rose

    A glimmer at the edge
    Of my vision,
    A shimmer of the real

    A scent of Jasmine tickles
    My nose,
    A hint of a far off

    A lone harp plays within range of
    My ears,
    A tone of the heavenly

    A welcome sweetness erupts within
    My mouth,
    A wholesome taste of

    A gentle breath upon
    My neck,
    A subtle touch of

    Where am I, I wonder
    The glare of the sun
    Blinding me.

    Dumuzi, my consort,
    It is me, Innana.
    Your Goddess,
    Your lover.

    I am trapped
    Within this mortal.
    It is still me;
    I need you, Love, to strengthen me.

    Release me; free me;

    I blink and look around
    Startled that I am in
    Rush hour traffic.

    Covered in sweat,
    Heart pounding
    Chest heaving.

    What just happened
    To me?

  20. JRSimmang

    My shadow,
    dark outlines
    and limitless bound’ries,
    scathed away from my feet.
    Why can I never touch your face?
    Bleeding, blending,
    shifting to the wind,
    you dance poetic,
    wax fever,
    move with the movement of a child.
    when the dark settles,
    palpable and unsavory,
    your pantomime no longer makes me laugh.
    You forget your place
    and I slump into the night to await my shadow.
    I am perplexed. The night,
    the time of shadows,
    leaves all to blend.
    Where are you, my shadow?
    Do you play with others?
    Can you smile through your black?
    ‘Til tomorrow, my dear. ‘Til tomorrow.

  21. Margot Suydam


    When I was twelve
    I had a beagle
    black, brown

    white, she relished
    in city smells so much
    she didn’t complain

    when a stranger sly
    scooped her up, stuffed
    her under his arm

    like groceries.
    Silenced, startled.
    Not a yelp

    was heard down
    the block where
    my mother waited

    patient for her return.
    I’ve always wondered
    Was she then sold

    into a better family
    where something
    wasn’t always hidden

  22. Rosangela

    Hidden Growth

    You don’t see
    but it’s right there,
    hiding behind
    your filters
    and everywhere.

    You just think you know
    and you go with the flow;
    it’s easy, no thinking
    only following.

    You miss the point,
    it’s a hidden joint.
    You must find the link,
    and rethink.

  23. Lana Walker

    Car pulls up
    Woman steps out
    with phone held to ear

    “I’ll be home in 3 hours”

    She waits her turn
    flipping through
    Glamour Magazine

    “Tressa is ready for you”

    Mixing bowls, clips
    Tiny foil squares
    on her head

    Chatter, laughter
    Young and old
    Passing the allotted time

    With no sign of gray
    she returns home
    once again

  24. Nancy Posey

    In Hiding

    Like an lizard blending in against the bare branches
    or the walking stick invisible among the blades of grass,
    the fawn, wobbly new legs folded under a body
    the color of its  bed of of fall leaves,
    she wanted to walk through the crowds
    without  catching the eye of anyone
    who knew her name, acclimated
    to the local culture, moving along to the rhythm
    whether congos or tenor saxophophone.

    After seven years in a city of seven million strangers
    speaking a tongue decipherable, no words shared
    but Coca-Cola, McDonald’s, KFC,
     hers the only blue eyes, red curls, skin so pale blue veins 
    showed underneath, the time had come to find her way
     back to a place where she could hide in plain view,
    where neither her strangeness nor her beauty turned heads.

  25. Arike


    No light to shed
    Shine no beams here
    Don’t light our grief

    A breath withheld
    A sound unmade
    A mouth closed now

    A lash flickers
    Swish of a robe
    Feathers rustle

    Fresh air comes in
    Bandages folded
    An empty shelf

    Someone took him
    He’s been stolen
    Where could he be

    Who would dare to
    It was sabbath
    It was Pesach

    Do not fear, but
    He’s no dead man
    Not anymore

  26. lady maggie

    A Girl’s Monolith
          In our own moment free of yester’s views
          secret braids of color bind a tight
          threesome together bathed in blinding light
          in our own dances hand in hand with who’s
          lonesome enough embraced enough to lose
          love in life and life in love to write
          abandoned stillborn touches of goodnight
          dreams we’d scarred thick dark as one might choose
          open face into fierce firestorm to share
          reality intended opportune
          except will I go? can’t he? where?
          you’re seeing hearing cutting coming soon?
          over the bed made home to our affair –
          us three yet there beneath a rising moon.

  27. Brian Slusher


    Open your eyes: you’ve survived
    the synaptic avalanche long
    enough–now steady, still the thrilling
    pulse of data. See each leaf
    of the climbing ivy wink as the sun
    massages your neck. Below
    the harried surface of the brook
    a mosaic of patient stones glitters.
    Hear each titter, twit, and caw
    embossing the April air, and there
    like treasure spilled from a forgotten
    cache, you’re back, to one,
    awake, to now.

  28. Iain Douglas Kemp

    No Longer Afraid

    Years of hiding
    hiding from the bullies
    hiding from the teasers
    hiding from the demons
    hiding from myself
    when suddenly
    like a revelation
    I stood upright
    and proud
    no longer afraid


  29. Iain Douglas Kemp

    Dear Moosehead,
    Pal, I am currently hiding out from
    your mother and sister by working
    my tail off on the airport run.
    Plenty of tourists so the geld ist gut!
    Also looking forward to giving them Rays
    a hiding at home. Games up at 7
    pick ya up at 6 as I’m gonna be out that way.
    We may all need to hide soon. Had a note
    from Jimmy the Greek down in Atlanta
    crowing about making a visit… You know that
    never goes well. Ya think Canada is far enough?

    Yours skulking on the parkway,
    Ringo the Howler

  30. drwasy


    Tucked away in the cedar-
    lined drawer of the cherry desk
    given to me by a friend
    long gone, a woman with
    gentle and strong words,
    are the words I wish
    no one else to find.

    There I secret my notebooks—
    the yellow spiral for daily words
    when story words fail;
    the black moleskine filled
    two-thirds with permanent
    grief inked while my father died;
    a paisley polyester with lock,
    no key, a youth spent
    discerning love
    from other distractions.

    On top, thin manila folders
    contain bills and letters
    received and other significant
    minutiae, and on top of these,
    a scattering of foil-covered
    chocolates and red-striped
    peppermints, stashed to satisfy
    any curiosity my daughter
    might have about the drawer
    in the desk where I work.

    While looking for the file
    of passwords that unlock
    accounts that unlock money,
    my hand bumps up against
    the familiar cold metal coiled
    around cardboard–a purple
    notebook small enough
    to tuck away in a child’s back pocket,
    rounded fourth grader words
    warning me to keep out.

    Peace, LindaS-W

  31. Tanjamaltija

    Writing on the Wall

    White darkness
    Black light
    Separating wrong from right.
    Sun-rays, star-dust;
    Axis of the universe.
    Do what you know.
    Vacuum void;
    Space-time continuum
    Parallax aura
    You must be a part
    Infinity, eternity.

  32. Rosemary Nissen-Wade


    In their hidden world
    on Barrow Island
    the ospreys look after each other,
    so it has been observed,
    and raise their young.
    The native island mouse
    and golden bandicoot,
    and our biggest lizard,
    the handsome perentie,
    go about their business
    evading introduced predators —
    now that those predators
    have been reduced.
    Graceful green turtle and dugong
    glide and turn in the clear water near shore.

    Oddly enough,
    when the oil extraction stops,
    all these fragile species and more
    may be more seriously threatened
    by eco-tourists. The conservation workers
    work while they can. And possibly pray.