Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 160

I hope everyone has had a great start to 2012! I’ve been catching up on work-related stuff after nearly 2 weeks out of the office. Plus, I have started up two new series on my other blog, My Name Is Not Bob, called Blissfully (a year-long series of personal stories from me to you) and Life Changing Moments (a collection of guest posts about specific moments that have changed people’s lives). One thing that’s changed my life is e-mail; it’s like an unstoppable force that keeps piling on, and I’m continually digging out of the e-mail hole.

For this week’s prompt, write a poem about an unstoppable force. Maybe the force is e-mail–or the Internet. Some think the power of love is an unstoppable force, but poetry could work too. Or maybe you know someone (even yourself) who is an unstoppable force. I hope the poeming is unstoppable this week!

Here’s my attempt:

“So we meet again”

Every year, it’s the same war:
the ants march in from the rain and winter
setting up lines along the walls
to some nearly invisible crum the vacuum
did not pull from the apartment carpet.

We’ll remove the evidence,
stop the current advance, and wait
for the next battle. Whether for food
or water, we will meet again:
I’ve given up hoping that we’ll ever quit.


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224 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 160

  1. taylor graham


    This house of many mysteries
    where we live –
    secret cubby-holes between
    hall and laundry room, and
    water-lines that don’t show on the plans –
    puzzle every handyman
    who comes to fix us.

    And now this puppy, whose lines
    we can’t trace back
    to any dogs we’ve known, has chewed
    a peep-hole in the wall,
    exposing what’s not
    up to code; excavating pipe
    that might connect us to the world.

    She’s showing us
    things we never wished
    to know, and some
    we have such desperate need of.

  2. Jolanta.Stephens

    Like a needle
    Moments before
    Pushing against my skin
    Burrowing and riveting
    Until it finally
    Punctures the delicate
    Barrier of flesh
    And drives into my
    Bloodstream sucking
    My life and energy
    Just like that needle
    Your words
    Burrow deep
    And steal my

  3. taylor graham


    Upon the shore a man set stones
    one on another in the name
    of amity. But hear the moans
    of ocean bearing endless blame.

    His shrine was trashed – a barren shore
    of salvaged stones, a threshing floor.
    The breakers batter without cease
    this place that held some thoughts of peace.

  4. Colette D

    ~ Click ~

    Once upon a time, the newest gadget was the wheel.
    After that, new gadgets came around and took the wheel.

    The wheel evolved into a gear and turned another spoke;
    gears turned other gears and thus the cycle never broke.

    Nowadays, the gadget craze requires satellites
    to ride the gear of gravity, transmitting bits and bytes.

    Fan belts turn to cool the circuits powering computers,
    and steering wheels control the wheels that roll beneath commuters.

    Loops of codes have turned into a single double-click,
    and since the wheel, the latest gadget rolls through every clique.

  5. Mary Mansfield

    Got another one done…finally! Seems to fit the theme, sometimes reality and truth can be pretty unstopable.


    I’m living a imitation life,
    Thousands of lies and deceptions
    Thatched together into
    A replica of authenticity.

    No warmth emanates
    At the hearth stones of this place.
    Dishonesty burns with flash
    But no heat to cut the chill
    Deceit leaves in its wake.

    My reality lies forgotten,
    Screams unheard behind
    The walls of my glass cage,
    Still breathing, still fluttering,
    Aching to break free.

    I stand at the gate
    And hear the rumbling
    Of the upcoming storm,
    The impending reckoning
    Will soon be at hand.

    Truth is bubbling through
    The cracks in this shell,
    A caustic cleanser
    Capable of removing the debris
    That fills my days.

    I grope blindly for an anchor
    To prevent the tempest from
    Pulling me into the midst of the calamity,
    Conserving as much strength as possible,
    Knowing that I will have to rebuild
    A more genuine existence.
    The truth, after all, shall set me free.

  6. Benjamin Thomas

    *This poem was inspired by a quote from an elderly man I met this week.

    “Gettin’ old ain’t for sissies”

    Vintage Wisdom

    An aged man
    Like vintage wine
    An antiquated wisdom
    Of honorable humanity
    Deemed classic
    Yet desirable
    From many wise years
    Appealing to the youthful
    Tastebuds of the inexperienced

  7. Dennis Wright

    No Photo and You Cannot Join

    I guess I need a reason.
    Why do you need my photo?
    I am just a writer of music.
    I am not a rock and roll model.

    But you give me no reason.
    I do not give you my photo.
    We are far apart from each other.
    We have other places to go.

  8. Dennis Wright

    The Moon at New Year

    I see the moon in evening sky
    Between a black pipe and ladder
    Above grey walls of a building
    Power lines framed the picture.

    There was a time at an Avalon
    Where the crazed came to heal
    In the sound that cured the beast
    Comfort found in less to feel.

    I got there this side of sleep
    Dreams of love and peace
    For all, each and every one,
    We found strong words to speak.

    And so an honor was formed
    One for all and all for one
    But one could not know then
    What was good for one or one.

    Just behind the end of the day
    The moon hung pale in the sky
    Like it was more than we could see
    Life was here to live or die.

    I see the moon in evening sky,
    As off measure the same as space,
    Not stopping, walking in force,
    Our dreams we still trace.

  9. taylor graham


    Magnificent Frigatebirds sail without wing-beat
    over the harbor of an island about to be sunk in the sea.

    The volcanoes are quiet. But men with lighted matches
    stand watch at their cannons under a warship’s
    red flag. Missionaries go on speaking their language
    of Heaven and Hell. Other foreigners have come
    and gone, breathing fevers and brandy like lava from
    the belly of earth. The sea brings alien gods
    and devils, tsunamis and now a warship. For the king
    of this small island has levied a tariff on brandy.

    The warship lies at anchor; soldiers gird to come ashore,
    to demolish the tax with the town. Meanwhile
    the people go about their business, grinding poi and
    wiping babies’ bottoms, fishing and making love.
    The soldiers dismantle the fort, but no one seems to
    notice. Passive resistance proving an unstoppable force,
    the warship sails back home. The island-tax
    on brandy stands, a ban against the tide of bad spirits.

    Frigatebirds can neither walk nor swim; but in their
    high, native element, they can stay aloft almost forever.

  10. leatherdykeuk


    The wind bites my ears, worries at the woolly hat
    given me by an old friend and makes my nose run.

    The dogs care nothing for the wind, though the eldest
    wears a jacket with reluctance – despite his shivers
    he thinks his overcoat is a punishment of some kind,
    something to stop him running, running
    as fast as the crows blown across the cemetery,
    feathers furled by the northern breeze.

    We step over fallen branches, twigs…
    a bird’s nest blown from the silver birch
    and bunches of forecourt carnations
    from the cheaper end of the cemetery.

    I pull my hat down further
    and fumble hands into cheap woollen gloves.

  11. MiskMask


    we used to put our ears
    on the track
    hear a train coming
    but we didn’t listen
    for long because our
    heads couldn’t stop
    a train when it was coming

  12. Bruce Niedt


    The brakeless locomotive,
    a skydiver’s chuteless fall;
    the outfielder tracks a deep fly,
    and miscalculates for the wall.

    The earthquake underwater
    churns up a huge tsunami.
    A million flying paper cranes
    that kids made from origami.

    An avalanche sweeps the mountain;
    we brace for the hurricane.
    We pull out the girl who fell in the well
    and trust every link in the chain.

    Nothing can really go backwards
    as the second hand hits every mark.
    Old couple walking and holding hands
    as dusk settles over the park.

    We move inexorably toward love
    and just as surely toward death.
    It’s best to dance in the meantime
    and not waste a single breath.

  13. SaraV

    So many amazing poems, very nice everyone! At that point in life where I’m watching young love 2 years together and so above the rest of us….

    Forcibly Restrained

    Tenuous,tenuous, tenuous
    Like spun sugar threads
    They pile their
    On this crystal web
    And believe
    They can
    Walking white
    And pure
    No obstacles, no heartache to blur
    Their view of what can be
    I watch and ache
    Seeing how bright
    Their love glows
    Knowing how easily
    It’s snuffed out
    And knowing there
    Nothing, nothing, nothing
    I can say
    To stop the hurt
    Headed their way
    That the weight of
    Life will shatter
    Their sweetness
    Blacken the pure love
    I will be there
    With open heart
    And arms so they
    Love survives


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