2012 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 26

We are really into the final days of this challenge now. I can’t believe how fast November has swept in and is trying to sweep out already. I hope everyone survived the holiday weekend!

Today’s prompt comes from a former winner of the challenge: Shann Palmer.

Here’s Shann’s prompt: Write a poem about something you collect (or would collect if you could).

Robert’s attempt at a Collection Poem:


They’re everywhere,
and they don’t cost nothing,
and the world is made of them.
I don’t understand
why more people don’t collect them,
and adore them,
and write poems about them.


Thank you, Shann, for adding your prompt to our November collection! Click here to learn more about Shann.

Click here if you prefer poeming on the WD Forum.


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64 thoughts on “2012 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 26

  1. IrisD


    Pastures, creek, and hayloft were our playground.
    During the summers my sister and I shared our domain.
    Cousins would take turns staying a week at a time.
    We fed the hogs, gathered eggs, and worked in garden
    in mornings, but then we explored the farm.
    My favorite was the two story barn with its huge hayloft.
    We would move the bales to make hay igloos and play cowboys and Indians
    until we were called for lunch or supper.
    A race was on to the windmill to wash our hands and face under the pump,
    then hurry to sit at table where Mother always led us in prayer.

  2. JRSimmang

    It’s more of a hobby,
    I s’pose,
    than a habit or an
    adolescent booklet with tiny little stamps
    licked and posted on the inside.

    I guess I found out what it was I wanted to keep
    when I was really young.
    I was always curious about my own.
    I would sit for hours and play with it,
    trying to find it before it slipped away.
    It is a slippery mother f-er,
    silvery and sublime,
    slick and perfect.
    Then, one day, I touched the damned thing.
    I became obsessed.
    I tried to find the ones others had.

    It was a little more than a month later,
    Algebra class.
    I was speaking with a girl, Abigail,
    sweet little thing with crystal clear eyes
    and auburn hair.
    I figured out that all I had to do was ask.
    She let me touch it.
    She let me hold it.
    She let me keep it.

    Now, it’s the first of my collections.
    It’s the first of many.
    And whenever I wish,
    I can call them all.
    I am the devourer and
    they owe their souls to me.

  3. Karen H. Phillips

    Day 26
    Prompt: Collection poem

    Collected, Hopefully Kept?

    Boxes of uncatalogued photographs
    Albums of other photos
    Stacks on a closet shelf of greeting cards
    Boxes of newspapers bearing historic headlines:
    Challenger Explodes, 911, UGA Wins National Championship.

    Brochures from Disney World, Ringling Brothers, Phoenix,
    not to mention Broadway Playbills and programs from
    a hundred local shows, a few including my name
    in cast or crew, and many with our son’s name,
    often as a lead.

    Framed photos and quotes hung on the wall
    or scattered across the furniture
    of family groups and our daughter’s sports and our son as a Ninja Turtle
    Bulldogs, cats, and dachshunds
    Georgia and Tennessee football memorabilia
    Books and books and more books.

    So many objects which could be swept away
    in a tornado or a fire,
    yet the ultimate collection cannot be destroyed,
    unless my mind leaves earth ahead of my body:


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