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2013 April PAD Challenge: Day 3

The April PAD (Poem-A-Day) Challenge is designed to help poets do one thing and one thing only: Write more poems! The process of revision may go on for weeks, months, and years later, but this challenge is all about getting that first draft. Please poem along with us–either in the comments below or silently at home.

For today’s prompt, write a tentative poem. The poem could be about a tentative date, a tentative person, a tentative situation. The narrator could be tentative. The subject could be tentative.

Here’s my attempt at a tentative poem:

“without”

though she wants to knock on his door,
he’s suddenly without music
and transforming into a bore.

though she wants to knock on his door–
though she wants to ask him for more–
she’s afraid that he might lose it.

though she wants to knock on his door,
she’s suddenly without music.

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Workshop Your Poetry!

Writing poetry is exciting, but the hard work of poeming is working through the revision process. The best way to work through this process is to workshop the poems with other poets, and that can be done with the Writer’s Digest 6-week course, Advanced Poetry Writing.

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Want some more poeming fun? Check out these previous Poetic Asides posts:

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343 thoughts on “2013 April PAD Challenge: Day 3

  1. utsabfly

    To Love Again…

    True love was always away from her grasp,
    Always just out of reach.
    Now he’s entered into her life,
    And is sweeping her off her feet.

    His smile, his touch, the kindness of his heart,
    The feel of her hand in his.
    She wants so badly to believe this is real,
    Not a fear-filled impossible labyrinth.

    But is this a fading dream she’s in?
    She’s been hurt and loved in vain.
    Her heart torn in pieces, black and blue,
    Sworn never to love again.

    She’s loving him with most of her heart,
    Right now that’s all she can give.
    Deciding with caution more every day,
    She wants to be with him…

    ©E.D. Allee
    April, 2014

  2. dextrousdigits

    Day 4
    I could begin now with that poem for day 3 born,
    but its late and I need to go to work
    I could write tomorrow morn

    Day 5
    It’s late and from work exhausted
    my brain and body need a break
    perhaps I can be poetic after I’ve rested

    Day 6
    I’m on a roll
    keeping up with the daily poems
    No time to backward scroll
    #3 will have to wait for the addendums

    The days roll by only 3 more including today
    each day needs a poem representative
    it is the perfect time to pick up the third day
    and stop being tentative.

  3. clarior

    ⠀⠀
    Something to Consider
    ⠀⠀
    ⠀⠀
    ⠀⠀Let’s talk. By webcam tonight would do fine, after work
    ⠀⠀and your usual stop on the way home. Take care of you first.
    ⠀⠀I have a request. For one thing, I know how nothing’s changed
    ⠀⠀on sticking it out there expecting to keep Mister R restrained.
    ⠀⠀I was thinking, how maybe it’s time for us to make the move
    ⠀⠀you had wanted me to make before, only this time for good.
    ⠀⠀That one’s Maggie’s idea, or you could say the idea’s mine
    ⠀⠀and Maggie said how it was fine, how it’d be for our good.
    ⠀⠀
    ⠀⠀The baby’s well, should be coming home earlier than thought
    ⠀⠀which is when we get to hold the little life for which she’d fought
    ⠀⠀so desperately, knowing all along what was never to’ve been
    ⠀⠀mistaken for the saving grace to her most original sin.
    ⠀⠀David seems to be holding up well. He’s been through hell.
    ⠀⠀He still keeps waiting for her. He’s so damned alone.
    ⠀⠀
    ⠀⠀So what do you want me to promise, that it’ll somehow work out?
    ⠀⠀You know as well as I how you and I aren’t accepted down south
    ⠀⠀like we have it up there. We knew that going in, how some remain
    ⠀⠀set in their ways. That didn’t stop us then. Why would it again?
    ⠀⠀I was thinking, how maybe we could help out caring for the child
    ⠀⠀as if she were still here. Yes, David’s right here. He says good.
    ⠀⠀It was Maggie’s idea, or you could say the idea was mine
    ⠀⠀and Maggie said how it was fine, how it’d be for our good.
    ⠀⠀
    ⠀⠀
    ⠀⠀

  4. bookworm0341

    “Pensive Priss”

    Pensive.
    Bags clutched tight.
    Hands white as her face.
    Perfect outfit to go with pursed lips.

    A voice overhead mumbles.
    Outstretched hand.
    Exchange of words and a ticket.
    Miss Priss, cautious as a cat, boards the plane.

  5. Sharon

    Caught!

    Step up, but do not jump
    Elsewise you’ll end up on your rump
    A cautious step will get you over the hump
    Don’t rush! Don’t be a chump!
    A tentative toe will avoid a lump.

    One step forward and two steps back,
    Don’t rush or you’ll get off the track.
    Don’t let your brain get out of whack,
    Tentative thinking keeps you from being a hack,
    Makes it for certain you’ll lead the pack.

    Every carefully determined thought
    Makes sure you do just what you aught
    So none of your plans come to naught.
    Boring you, say this battle you’ve fought?
    Tentative sinks, yet in its web I am caught!

  6. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    Seesaw
    by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    “Life always harder near the Summit.” — fortune cookie

    Our relationship is tentative,
    blood ties, anemic at best.
    You seem focused more on
    possessions and status
    than your own daughters,
    but I love you anyway so
    forgiveness is easy,
    though wish you could
    return the favor.

    Your love,
    at times provisional
    and tenuous as a rhino,
    you still prefer gathering
    prophecies and luck
    old school,
    tea leaves & cookies.

    And though I
    have made cautious inroads
    in this life together,
    your sanctions still remain
    too high a price to be left
    mothering this poem
    alone.

    © 2013 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

  7. Glory

    DAY 3
    Unremembered

    You stood beside the W – Z bookcase,
    I could see you musing over your choice,
    I looked for some kind of recognition
    but no, oblivious to my smile, when
    you eyes met mine you turned away hesitant,
    unsure, my face not one you remembered.

  8. tunesmiff

    TENTATIVE BLUES

    I take one step toward you, Baby,
    Seems to me you take two steps back.
    I take one step toward you, Baby,
    Seems to me you take two steps back.
    It’s like we’re standing on the platform,
    And you keep looking down the track.

    After all we’ve done together,
    How can you say that you don’t know?
    After all we’ve done together,
    How can you say that you don’t know?
    What is it about me?
    Can’t you let your feelings show?

    Won’t you tell me, Darlin’,
    Tell me what I need to do?
    Won’t you tell me Darlin’,
    Tell me what I need to do?
    Tell me what it’s gonna take,
    For me to finally win over you.

    I take one step toward you, Baby,
    Seems to me you take two steps back;
    I take one step toward you, Baby,
    Seems to me you take two steps back.
    It’s like we’re standing on the platform,
    And you keep looking down the track.

  9. Beth Rodgers

    It’s ridiculous how words
    Can form meanings
    That incite ridicule.

    How supervision
    Can lack vision
    And logic
    Can be illogical.

    There are far too many who
    Revile vile and
    Respect disrespect
    Which instills fear
    Rather than the likelihood to lend an ear.

    It’s discouraging that the courage needed
    To regard yourself as strong is guarded against
    By words of hatred – so we must tread lightly
    And manipulate these wrongs before it’s too late.

  10. k weber

    I stand back

    I’m living by the millisecond
    Because I don’t want another
    Hello or goodbye
    Or another love to hate
    And I can’t bear losing
    Or winning the climb
    To fall down from the top
    And you reject me
    But you embrace me
    I see how your thickness
    Has worn thin

    – k weber

  11. Rain200

    *No Words*

    A poem ticked in
    My heart last night
    And it began with

    A delicate word kissed my
    Dreams last night and it rhymed with

    A soothing memory of when your arms
    Folded around me could not compare with

    A coat of pain wrapped me in my
    Sleep kept me warm with cold shoulders
    That left me with

    A poem ticking in
    My heart.

  12. drwasy

    EGGSHELLS

    Calm only pervades
    when I sleep
    if I sleep
    the deep blue forgiving

    My floors littered
    with robins’ eggs,
    shells translucent: inside each shell
    a heart beats, valves pump
    the thin nectar of life.

    Days pass this way
    treading time: every step
    a tragedy.

  13. Jezzie

    Tentatively speaking

    I’m
    insane,
    it is plain.
    I really think
    I am on the brink
    of a brand new romance.
    Shall I take a second chance?
    Or will I soon be shedding tears
    when it all goes pear-shaped over years?
    But if nothing ventured, there’ll be no gain,
    or maybe I’ll just end up alone again.

    (This poem is designed to appear slightly pear-shaped when centre aligned)

  14. finallyhereiam

    A tentative poem (tentative: cautious, hesitant, unsure)
    speak up

    There, they danced upon the tip of the child’s tongue
    In his eyes, his manner and his countenance;
    He hopped and hoped, and ran to his Father
    Unsure, reserved, should he say it, or rather,
    Go unnoticed before his other siblings,
    And continue to bear the brunt of their wrong doings;
    In circles he ran, unsure of his stance
    The Father looked at his son, askance
    In circles he ran, flailing his tiny arms
    That mouth he opened but for a tad bit,
    His Father said, “Ho son, what the matter is?”
    He uttered a wild tune and flashed his smile,
    His Father knew his son chose to beguile
    And they still dance upon the tip of his tongue,
    Those words unsaid, that deed undone

  15. Mel Lewis

    This Afterthought

    This afterthought –
    an aftershock to me,
    not he,
    the argument that he is.

    Had I these words
    when last words were my claim,
    I would not have relinquished
    to his last laugh.

    I would have offered
    more than the dull scratchings
    of my scant retort,

    and he would have choked
    on my great thunder.

    But my reformed reply,
    assembled too late
    to close harsh on sibling discord,
    now sits dark in my pocket –
    to be unleashed
    at our next meet
    and his first pause.

  16. vsbryant1

    Five days til’ the month
    Happy
    Sad
    Excite
    Mad
    Confused
    Joy
    Sorrow
    Passion
    Work
    Pleasure
    Five days til the month
    I wear my ring as my badge
    The future is unclear but I’m grateful that you’re near
    Tomorrow holds no promises, but I’m glad I walk this path beside you
    Fear sometimes grip me, but never paralyze for you my feet.
    Fear scares me, but never consumes me, for your arms are always on me, protecting and guiding me.

  17. Linda Voit

    Could we talk?

    above comfort of the predictable
    one big toe extends
    vulnerable
    mid-air by force of the foot
    above solid ground
    polish smudged
    bare
    the other four curl
    down tight
    nails forward
    this could go anywhere

  18. finallyhereiam

    April 3 2013
    A tentative poem
    speak up
    There, they danced upon the tip of the child’s tongue
    In his eyes, his manner and his countenance;
    He hopped and hoped, and ran to his Father
    Unsure, reserved, should he say it, or rather,
    Go unnoticed before his other siblings,
    And continue to bear the brunt of their wrong doings;
    In circles he ran, unsure of his stance
    The Father looked at his son, askance
    In circles he ran, flailing his tiny arms
    That mouth he opened but for a tad bit,
    His Father said, “Ho son, what the matter is?”
    He uttered a wild tune and flashed his smile,
    His Father knew his son chose to beguile
    And they still dance upon the tip of his tongue,
    Those words unsaid, that deed undone

  19. burrhead

    Faith (or lack of it)
    ===========

    I want to board the train
    The car you ride is near
    You tilt your face down
    And your eyes smile up and to the side
    Green side-eyes
    I fear the destination

    You are close enough to sit with
    But the train is moving
    As it does every desperate night
    Away from me
    Because I am afraid
    You are leaving

  20. PSC in CT

    Uncertain

    Her attention to detail too intent, (in-
    tense), she treads on eggshells – construing,
    inferring, interpolating;
    (extrapolating in BOLD typeface
    their Honey Script Light font)
    decrypting accusations
    in soft spoken suggestions.

    She’s reading (chapters) betwixt the lines,
    (paragraphs) in the spaces between words, all the while
    (sensing “sink or swim”) she’s casting about
    aiming to conjure calm, but floundering;
    her dissembling debatable – composure belied,
    betrayed yet again, by the flutter
    of her hummingbird heart.

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