2014 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 26

For today’s prompt, write a same poem. I guess it could be the same old poem, but it could be a completely different poem that looks at a person or thing or system that is still the same. Or maybe a poem about how all people are the same. Or take the “same” concept and show how things are not the same. And that opens up a universe of possibilities.

*****

2015 Poet's Market

2015 Poet’s Market

Get your poetry published!

Learn how to get your poetry published with the premiere book on publishing your poetry: the 2015 Poet’s Market, edited by Robert Lee Brewer.

This essential resource includes hundreds of listings for book publishers, magazines, journals, contests, grants, and so much more. Plus, there are articles on the craft of poetry, business of poetry, and promotion of poetry. Beyond that, there’s an hour-long webinar, a subscription to the poetry slice of WritersMarket.com, original poems, poet interviews, resources galore, and more-more-more!!!

Click to continue.

*****

Here’s my attempt at a Same poem:

“popsicle”

a popsicle does not stay the same

if you remove it from the freezer

especially on a hot summer day

when it immediately starts to melt

either on your fingers or within

its packaging that will eventually

contain sugary water and a stick

*****

roberttwitterimageRobert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of the poetry collection, Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He edits Poet’s Market, Writer’s Market, and Guide to Self-Publishing, in addition to writing a free weekly WritersMarket.com newsletter and poetry column for Writer’s Digest magazine.

He is a fan of popsicles, especially orange.

Follow him on Twitter @robertleebrewer.

*****

Find more poetic goodies here:

You might also like:

  • No Related Posts

151 thoughts on “2014 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 26

  1. seingraham

    IF IT’S ALL THE SAME TO YOU

    If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll pass on today’s
    Middle East skirmish
    If you can call the slaughter of children by something
    as pernicious as a suicide bombing, a skirmish
    If it’s all the same to you, I’ll also take a pass on hearing
    any more about the riots in the USA
    Because another policeman has done something untoward
    or outside the rules of law
    Not because I don’t believe it – I do – I’m just tired of the whole
    business
    I wouldn’t be a cop anywhere south of the 49th
    for all the money there is
    If it’s all the same to you, I will pass on the number of football
    games available to me on my television
    I know it’s downright amazing, but I think I can contain myself
    If it’s all the same to you, I will resist reading reviews
    of the latest books, movies, and musical releases –
    especially those I might be the least bit interested in seeing
    Not because of their so-called spoiler alerts, but because reviews
    tend to spoil my first shot at viewing any of these things;
    give me a chance to make up my own mind without your
    well-meant but unavoidable influence, thanks
    That’s it – if it’s all the same to you.

  2. bluerabbit47

    Creativity

    We took the same
    walk this morning,
    along the same
    river, beside the same
    lake, but, as usual,
    little is the same.
    The eagles are missing
    from their usual perch.
    Instead a flock
    of bluebirds flits through
    the rice grass.
    Though we try to come
    back to the same place
    at the same time
    to catch something
    just missed, we never
    quite succeed, instead
    capturing something
    almost different,

  3. shethra77

    Same and Same, All Our Days

    It’s just another
    same old day again.
    The moon in some phase
    And the sun in spots.
    And is that delightful-looking
    thing over there
    gluten-free?
    If not, let’s look
    and find
    an online recipe
    almost exactly like it.
    Let’s rush over to make sure Grandma
    actually lost her pocketbook
    —no, her wallet—
    inside the house,
    not out somewhere.
    Remember to ask before
    raising the garage door and
    if Lizzy’s headphones
    are on, or other music playing
    so she doesn’t shake.
    Make sure there is food in the house for
    someone with a tender tummy,
    something yummy
    for those who can’t eat beef
    or hate chicken,
    and no one wants bacon
    but they would if it was
    less salty or
    less crunchy.
    It’s cold this morning—turn up
    the heat and light the
    fireplace until someone is suddenly
    way too hot. Check all day
    to see if it’s going to
    rain, snow, sleet, hail,
    or if we get to watch
    shadows of the clouds hurrying
    across the commons.
    Check for interesting
    creatures venturing
    out on the commons.
    Bring in the groceries.
    Take out the trash.
    Probably ought to
    take up the dry laundry.
    My brain’s gone empty—I’m
    asleep on the couch again.
    Time for bed.
    Tomorrow’s a whole new
    same morning.

    Shethra Jones Hoopes

  4. Bhumphreys

    The Song remains the same

    I never wanted to speak
    Fom my Father’s voice,
    “What is this crap you are
    Listening to?
    I remember when music was
    Created by a band,
    Not a computer.”
    Each generation has their mantra
    That remembers another time,
    Another style and another tune.
    That said, I can’t do it
    The top 40 sounds like one
    Long symphony of the same
    To me.
    Be it Nicki, Beyonce’ or Taylor
    It all bleeds into a uniform tune.
    I never wanted to be
    Considered an elitist,
    Nor would I consider myself
    A connoisseur;
    But II know what I like.
    New music has beacons
    Of hope,
    But the popular ones
    Come from a mold that
    I cannot come around on.
    Either I have become old
    Enough to no longer appreciate
    Or music has become trite enough
    To no longer care.

  5. thunk2much

    The search

    I searched for the recipe
    Like I was looking for the horizon-flag
    Of a ship returning home
    Like if I could just find
    The perfect chocolate bourbon pecan pie
    You’d manage to make it
    Home for dessert

    ~ Liesl Dineen 2014

  6. Shennon

    Staying the same
    Drives me insane

    A ticky tacky residence
    Makes absolutely zero sense

    Form opinions of your own
    Don’t settle being just a clone

    Don’t follow fashion, set the trend
    Never let others mold and blend

    Your thoughts and feelings, hopes and dreams
    Settling for “the same” is not all it seems

    –ShennonDoah

    1. ipoeti

      Same Life, Same Death, Same Love
      Many times as we crash
      Many times we die
      Many times we love
      We burn out on the same things the same way
      We get the same job over and over and over
      We marry the same girl/guy again and again
      The very same one! Identical twin sometimes!
      We ache the same way for the same reason
      We complain about the same things for the same reasons
      We even say all men are alike!
      All people are evil!
      All woman just want me for my body. (like I wish!)
      We truly haven’t changed
      From 3 to 30
      From 19 to 90
      We all want what we can’t have and detest what we can
      It’s the same shit just a different day.
      Earl F Spangler 2014

  7. deringer1

    The Same

    humanity does not change; it is the same.
    It has the urge to fight, to hurt,
    to kill, first with the sword
    in 1600 the crossbow
    in 1865 the repeating rifle
    in 1916 the bomb
    in 1945 a bigger bomb
    in 1960 a guided missile
    in 2014 “I didn’t drop no bomb!
    the computer did it.”

    how efficient we are–
    killing so many at once.

    humanity does not change; it is the same

  8. Doakley

    To Be Continued

    Standing on the shore
    of the lake throwing
    the nerf football for my
    sons to run off the bank
    and try to catch it in the air
    before they splash into the water.

    Sitting in the cushioned seat
    of the pontoon watching
    my sons throw a nerf football
    for the grand kids to jump off
    the pontoon deck and
    try to catch it in the air
    before they splash into the water.

    Sitting in the patio chairs
    watching my grand kids
    throw the nerf football
    for my great grandkids
    as they jump from
    the edge of the pool and
    try to catch it in the air
    before they splash into the water.

  9. shellcook

    Here, All Is Same

    It’s stuck in my head
    The Internet troll email that starts…
    How are you? ‘Here, all is same.’
    We’ve all gotten it.

    Things like that get stuck in my head,
    so today, you help me, yes?

    The point, of all points, I believe,
    is, sameness, never happens.
    We think it happens.
    We believe it happens.

    We shake things up,
    so it won’t happen,
    but it happens,
    just the ‘same’.

    In fact, every second that passes
    moves time in all directions.
    We notice forward motion, do we not?
    But things do change.

    Even if it is just this physical reality
    moving us one step closer
    to the next reality,
    sameness doesn’t occur again.

    It gives me something to think about,
    when I worry about getting through
    another family holiday,
    so if things feel the same one more time,

    breathe, let it go,
    it will not last long.
    It will be gone in a split second,
    and you will wish, ‘Here, all is same.’

    11/26/14

  10. Heather

    couldn’t log on last night so here it is:

    At the end

    It’s always the same.
    The projects differ,
    the details vary,
    the challenges reward.
    The clients,
    though they believe
    different ideals,
    the goal never changes:
    put themselves first,
    better, higher
    than the competition,
    take over.
    My job
    makes it happen,
    and I have rules in place
    to make sure
    no matter what
    the ideology,
    I’m still standing
    at the end.

    ~also published at http://heatherbutton.com/2014/11/26/at-the-end-a-poem/

  11. Natasa Bozic Grojic

    I couldn’t post yesterday. The site was down. Probably too many people trying to post at the same time.

    An Atavism

    The exercise takes time.
    The muscles hurt
    and the monotony
    is hard to bear.
    Still, it is necessary
    to exercise these muscles.
    Otherwise, there will be problems,
    sudden outbursts of anger and sadness,
    loss of clarity,
    the pain.
    Then soon, too soon,
    the muscles will lose their strength.
    They will become stiff and numb.
    Then atrophy will set.
    Three generations from now
    no one will use those muscles.
    They will become an atavism,
    seen only in circus freaks,
    who will have no clue
    what the muscles are for.

  12. bxpoetlover

    On Par

    We celebrate difference–
    snowflakes
    fingerprints
    voices
    shades of skin
    textures of hair.

    Although twelve year old me
    swore in my diary
    I would be different
    Mommy
    Daddy
    Grandma keep
    streaming out of my mouth:

    “Short visits make long friends.”

    “Every tub stands on its own bottom.”

    “You come in this world alone, you go out alone.”

    “Each one, teach one.”

    “I am because we are; therefore you will be.”

    The children are independent thinkers
    want to earn their own/have their own
    are generous to those they love
    and want to lead, in their own way.

    Sometimes sameness is a good thing.

  13. Danielle Wong

    Tuesday

    Tuesday
    I wake,
    tears flooding
    my pillow.
    How will I make it through?
    Snide comments
    and digs
    meant to force me out,
    slowly but surely.
    Days go by.
    Weeks walk along.
    Every day, same negativity
    thrown at me.
    Every day, I try to ignore.
    One day
    same day
    Tuesday
    I wake,
    tears flooding
    my pillow.
    How will I make it through?
    Clarity smiles
    and waves
    helping me to grow,
    slowly but surely.
    She shows me
    my true self.
    Each of her days, same positivity
    handed to me.
    Every day, I listen hard.
    One day
    same day
    Tuesday
    I wake
    following
    Clarity’s path.

  14. MichelleMcEwen

    Don’t Change

    Please stay
    the same way

    you are right now

    with your arm
    around my waist,

    your breath
    on my nape.

    Whatever is in
    your heart

    that makes you
    hold me so close,

    don’t let it go.

  15. Jolly2

    UNIQUE
    by John Yeo

    Same again?
    Asked the man behind the bar.
    The liquid was measured into a glass
    Containing a speck of dust.
    The quantity was exactly the same
    But there was a glaring difference.

    The germ was consumed and grew
    Then quickly spread through my body.
    Cells attacking cells the battle was fought
    Then medical science joined the affray
    Although I have recovered my health today
    I will never be the Same again.

    A glaring display of opposites is always very plain
    Wars are fought over a tiny differential
    To be exactly one and the same,
    Would be impossible to sustain
    Variation is a valuable guide to follow.
    Life stands still with the Same again.

    Like peas in a pod the midwife laughed
    As the twins came into the world
    There the similarities ended.
    Differences always arise during growth.
    Upbringing and shaping count for a lot.
    A clone is a carbon copy of the original.
    Tempting fate to fill the glass by requesting the
    Same again.

    Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

  16. James Von Hendy

    Sameness: a love poem

    In my dreams you appear at random,
    a kaleidoscope
    of bodies and lost faces., remembered eyes—

    I have a thing for eyes, the shapes of hands,
    The softness of palms—
    and usually we’re reliving moments

    that didn’t happen. That don’t, or almost
    come off, but then move on,
    a montage of incompletion. And,

    come to think of it, that’s how it was
    when we had our chances
    and took them. You always left me wanting

    (take that how you will). I mistook failure
    and frustration
    for themselves. It was because I didn’t know

    they were the compass points of my desire.
    There you were again,
    in the streaked window of a passing train—

    it’s that way often (the dead unchanged)—
    the distant glaze
    of longing in your eyes. I sought your hand

    among throngs of stranger on the platform,
    and when you looked up,
    you were another lover or my first wife

    (it doesn’t matter, really, the living, too,
    out of touch, remain
    unchanged). You were about to say something,

    but already your eyes masked distance
    and what I wanted
    lay in that place beyond words. How little

    I knew of you. Whatever you held back,
    still I search your palms
    for it though there’s nothing between us now.

COMMENT