2012 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 16

In case you missed it yesterday, click here to check an interview with me on the Poetic Bloomings site.

Today’s prompt comes from Joseph Mills.

Here’s Joseph’s prompt: Use the last line of yesterday’s poem for the first line of today’s poem.

Robert’s attempt at a Last Line First Poem:

“And we can”

And we can dash into the forest forever
forgetting the bells, the whistles, all the people
cursing their neighbors, dancing in their flooded streets
when the rain is too much for the drains to contain.

And we can dash into the forest forever
but our hearts won’t forget, our minds won’t cease beating
the blood of our parents, our connected story
sparking fires nothing short of those rains can contain.

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Thank you, Joseph, for the great prompt today! Click here to learn more about Joseph.

Click here if you prefer sharing poems on the Writer’s Digest Forum.

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Follow me on Twitter @robertleebrewer

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70 thoughts on “2012 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 16

  1. Karen H. Phillips

    Day 16
    Prompt: Use last line of Day 15’s poem as first line of Day 16’s poem.

    What I Don’t Choose

    Choices were made for me before birth:
    Birthplace
    Year of birth
    Parents
    DNA, gender, chromosomes
    Intelligence
    Class/income

    Certainly many factors of my life
    lie out of my control,
    spiraling to make me who I am
    and what I will become.

    Circumstances surround me
    as God and nature choose:
    Tornado misses our house.
    Dryer fire and oven fire end with children safe.
    Sleepy accident in the night spins my husband
    safely into guard rail with no cars nearby.
    A canoe trip in my single twenties could have
    turned out so differently if I hadn’t made it
    to a rock from the filling canoe
    through the floodwaters but instead had
    plunged unsuspecting over a waterfall armed only
    with a puny old style lifejacket.

    Those are the kinds of things I don’t choose.
    But I do choose how I respond
    and how my life can be more
    than how I’m made and what
    happens to me.

  2. heiditoad

    The Saddest Truth

    Where the memory of me used to stand,
    A photo in some box does sit
    To offer proof I did exist.

    I wonder what that photo tells
    To those who did not know me well?
    For one day too you shall be gone;
    The friends I’ve made as years went on.

    Where the memory of me used to stand
    A photo in some box does sit
    To offer proof I did exist.

    It doesn’t matter what I gave
    What came before, what path I paved
    For lives untouched or touched the same
    For I am still without a name.

    Where the memory of me used to stand
    A photo in some box does sit
    To offer proof I did exist

    And who of you remembers me?
    No branches grown on family trees;
    A nameless face in someone’s hand
    Is all that’s that left, that’s all I am.

  3. Jacqueline Hallenbeck

    Running a wee behind this day…

    To Kimmie…

    I only want what’s best for you.
    I’ll cook your favorite chicken stew.
    I wish you health, a bright mañana
    and lots of fun with Faith and Johanna.
    I’ll send you off to Paris or Sydney
    and if you ever need a hand or kidney,
    I’ll give you one, for I have two.
    I only want what’s best for you.

  4. PSC in CT

    The One

    At her feet
    lay the sun, moon, stars, (every
    gaseous planet in the
    arms of Orion and most
    of the rocky ones as well) but
    all she really wanted
    was the world – just one
    minuscule
    blue-green marble
    miracle of the Milky Way
    (which no one offered up)
    so she walked away

  5. rustydude

    Stuck, Tradeoff, Last line First line,

    I’m stuck in a time zone and employment that keep me late hours
    So the daily poetic challenges become tall shadowing towers

    I bid some slack and request a trade
    A story comprised with bit of the three made

    Please refer to the following rendition
    A cowpoke, pondering his condition

    Stuck in the Saddle

    Stuck here in the saddle, follow’n a herd
    Been a right long time, haven’t heard a word

    Got stories, recollections, chase’n in my head
    Colt strapped to my side, six pieces of lead

    Rifle in the scabbard, loaded, ready to aim
    The trail we ride, none any too tame

    Cougar wait’n up a tall pine, wolves by the pack
    Rattlers slither’n quiet, hide’n in a crack

    The paint believes he’s the favorite, since I saddle him the most
    Truth be told, he slips through the timber, easier than a flee’n ghost

    He’s sure on his feet, ‘n keeps a smooth stride
    Makes gather’n the herd, a most pleasant ride

    The cows don’t talk, but you can tell what they say
    Scent of water in the breeze, they be headed that way

    Should reach that river soon, just below Shirley’s Ridge
    Clean, cool current, flow’n peaceful, under a natural bridge

    Plenty of grass for the herd, we’ll make camp for the night
    Sunset, snowcaps to the west, simply inspire’n sight

    How that ridge took her name, take more than a written page
    First laid eyes on my beautiful wife there, tend’n the stage

    She’ll be wait’n there, fire ready, biscuits ‘n coffee, hot
    Stand’n tradition, every ride, we meet same ol’ spot

    I’ll bring a fresh grouse, to fix with her wild berries and sage
    She’ll prepare it all, with tender love, never tired with age

    Come daybreak, we’ll finish the trail together, stride by stride
    An old cowpoke in a saddle ‘n a pretty lady, ride’n side by side

    No where else I’d rather be, than along side my bride, follow’n the herd
    Must admit, “stuck” in the saddle, was a poor choice of the word

  6. Marie Elena

    Early Alzheimer’s Patient (Patience!)

    She doesn’t recall
    At all.
    Or at least she is rocketing down that path
    At a rate we can’t restrain.
    “Are you ready to go?”
    “Where are we going?”
    “I’m taking you out for breakfast.”
    “What do I need? Do I need my keys? Where are my keys?”
    “They are right here on your wrist bracelet.”
    “Oh yes! Here they are, right there!”

    She heads for her bedroom,
    Returning with a flustered, “I can’t go! I can’t find my keys!”
    “They are right here on your wrist bracelet.”
    “Oh!” A thankful smile.

    “Are we ready then? Where are we going?”
    “We’re going to breakfast.”
    “Oh! How nice! Do I need my keys?”
    “You have your keys right here on your wrist. Ready?”
    “Where are we going?”

    At this point, I put my arm around her,
    Gently leading her to her door.
    “I’m taking you out for a nice breakfast.”
    “Oh! How nice!”

    She opens her purse, fumbling for her keys…

  7. Rorybore

    it seemed like a great way to end at the time…..much harder to start with!

    Just the Way it’s done ’round here

    spit and shake:
    now the deal is struck
    no contracts to sign;
    just blind faith, or luck?

    it’s a system of old
    when a mans’ word was true
    not determined by service fees
    or how the wind blew

    just service with a smile
    and the customer is right
    “You have a good day now m’am.”
    “Thank you, to you a good night.”

    Yes, my town is so small
    no Starbuck’s you’d find
    But life is much simpler —
    and I can’t say that I mind

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