Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 147

For this week’s prompt, write an out of this world poem. This poem might be about aliens and space exploration, of course, but it could also be a tall tale or unbelievable story. I guess it could also just be a mind-blowing poem (think “Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” or “Coney Island of the Mind”)–you know, a poem that makes someone say, “That’s out of this world!”

Here’s my attempt:

“The Quilt-Maker”

She works alone and listens for train whistles.
The soft clacks echoing across open fields
remind her of work to finish. This pattern
is a gray wolf transforming into a fox
that becomes a wolf and so on until she
reaches the border. Maybe then she’ll confess
she never belonged in this world of patches
and thread. On these evenings when lights flash past
windows and widows weep deep into the moon,
she draws her shawl around shoulders and shudders,
because he’s out there somewhere leaving his tracks.


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122 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 147

  1. taylor graham


    Forget facts, when myth will do.
    Weapons of Mass Destruction,
    the Trojan Horse.

    Saddam the Antichrist?
    Caught like a rat
    in a hole, and hanged.

    The war was fought, and still
    goes on fighting, as if
    forever. And the Antichrist?

  2. WyomingDiva

    This was kind of fun!

    Out of this world

    Hooked up to monitors and IV,
    drawing blood, saline drip
    inserted, blood pressure cuff
    wrapped snugly around the
    upper arm, nearly making
    the head ‘split’
    every five minutes
    with inflation,
    the doctor explores
    my interior world,
    a landscape
    rarely considered until
    pain drives the body
    through the doors of
    the e.r., hoping for
    and relief.
    An x-ray proves the heart to
    be clear of blockages, a
    physical exam with gentle
    pokes and prods
    reveals no masses,
    repeated blood tests uncover
    ‘spanking clean’ cardiac results,
    while an EKG with
    numerous little sticky mouths
    placed strategically over
    pulse points discloses
    no beating irregularities
    or abnormalities.
    He peeks in eyes
    and ears and throat and
    palpitates nearly every inch.
    Amazing how with only one
    piercing of the skin,
    the chemistry and
    status of this
    inner outer space
    is mapped out by
    an intrepid internal
    medical explorer.
    Gastritis is the diagnosis.

  3. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    when dogs dream
    by juanita lewison-snyder

    when dogs dream,
    caterpillars fly
    rabbits climbs trees
    and frisbees taste like peanut butter.

    when dogs dream,
    deer chase cars
    shade follows you around 24/7
    and leash laws are strictly for cats.

    when dogs dream,
    balls are for sissies
    sticks automatically retrieve themselves
    and all dogs get sirloins on their birthdays.

    when dogs dream,
    fences are made of chocolate
    doghouses come with recliners
    and tire-swings are standard.

    when dogs dream,
    they steal cars and joyride
    then visit sonic drive-thru’s and
    order milkshakes and coney dogs to go.

    when dogs dream,
    there are no scales of death
    to weigh you at the vet’s office,
    and thermometers are banned for life.

    © 2011 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

  4. taylor graham


    He’s lost again in the deep
    jungle of a late afternoon nap,
    leaving pragmatic things, again,
    to her – whipping up batter
    for a niece’s birthday cake
    among a nattering of flies and
    September heavy air. Every
    day’s a relay, breakfast to laundry,
    pay the bills, lunch to dinner
    dishes, scrub the sink.
    In these naps of his, where
    beyond her world does
    he dream?

  5. AC Leming

    Out of this world

    I took myself out of my world
    & into yours, but didn’t understand
    the military shorthand or the accepted
     (expected?) behavior.  

    confused and unsettled, I tried
     to keep communication lines open 
    but our lines and lives ended up at 
    cross purposes.  You wanted 

    no further contact and I wanted
     to know why.  Silence, heavy 
    with imprecise and hurried 
    goodbyes, settled like a noose 

    around my phone,and kept me
     excited, nervous & then pissed.
      Once we scratched that itch 
    and I didn’t live  up to my sexting/phone

     persona, you couldn’t be bothered 
    to treat me like someone deserving 
    the courtesy of an explanation 
    until I scared you enough to respond.

  6. MiskMask

    The Girl at the Hearth

    A young girl,
    she can’t be much beyond twelve.
    The curl at the hem
    of her skirts
    are frosted with ash,
    and our eyes meet
    as I walk into the room.
    Her smile slight and sweet
    but her stare is as cold
    as her tombstone that leans
    into the northern wind.
    She turns away, her skirts
    swirl and twirl,
    and she vanishes
    into the flames of the hearth.

  7. Walt Wojtanik


    When evening calls and I am here
    poised at my keypad rapt in worded wonder,
    thoughts of you invade my thinking
    giving me this inkling that we have connected
    in ways we don’t understand. Here I am
    just a man you had known, now fully grown
    and dabbling in poetic pursuits.
    And you, a woman who is drawn to my words,
    drawing the inspirations found there.
    I can thank my lucky stars in this fortuitous sky
    that we have teamed up to create
    in sight and sound, looking to orbit the universe
    we are constructing. Written in the stars
    this moment is ours.


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