2014 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 29

Tomorrow is the final day of the challenge. So let’s make these last couple days count.

For today’s prompt, write a do it again poem. This could be a poem about taking a mulligan or re-doing a mistake. Or maybe re-doing a magical moment. Or a poem for all those folks who like to ride roller coasters and get right back in line.


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 the always lovable and encouraging 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, orginal poems, poet interviews, resources galore, and more-more-more!!!

Click to continue.


Here’s my attempt at a Do It Again poem:

“This life”

has been something incredible,
and I would do it all again
the exact same way, because

I wouldn’t want to trade the bad
experiences if it meant
I would not receive all the good,

and anyway, the gift of this life
isn’t getting everything right
but getting through it to the next.


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 can’t believe this month is nearly over. Let’s do it again next year.

Follow him on Twitter @robertleebrewer.


Find more poetic goodies here:

You might also like:

  • No Related Posts

113 thoughts on “2014 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 29

  1. seingraham


    Say you could blow the sun back below the horizon
    Say you could sweep your dreams into a pile after each night
    Say you could sink all your worries in a bag with stones in the Pacific
    Say you could remove some good deeds to keep handy
    Say you could list the most important things you will ever do, then do them
    Say you could fold your memories to keep inside your heart and your soul
    Say you could cup your hands and gather all the hurt from those you love
    Say you could destroy pain with a flick of your wrist
    Say you could be anything you set your mind to
    Say you could do it, would you

  2. bluerabbit47

    Do it Again

    If I could do it again,
    would I have said yes
    to a different question?
    Would I have missed
    a particular appointment?
    Would I have abandoned
    a quixotic dream?
    If I could do it again,
    would I have looked
    instead of listened,
    felt instead of thought,
    moved instead of waited?
    More than once, pausing
    in a doorway, I thought
    I might have, turning back,
    but here in a more
    spacious place than I could
    have imagined, I know
    such choices are all the same.

  3. Karen H. Phillips

    Day 29
    Write a do it again poem.

    Once Again

    We listen to their vows,
    as many over the years,
    some composed as poetry, some with Scripture,
    most including the traditional “For better or worse”
    and “With this ring I thee wed.”

    Voices of the bride and groom range from soft and fuzzy to
    clarity of Claret, sharp focus in the tone,
    but all sincere. They can’t know what they may face:
    disabilities or difficulties with their children,
    infirmity of parents, dementia in their spouse.

    We listen, husband and I, and silently we renew the pledges
    taken those years ago.
    When our daughter takes hers, the man of her choosing
    at her side, again we’ll voice in head and heart words
    that are really oceans of meaning. I do. I will. We have.

  4. Domino

    That Night

    Remember the night
    under the bridge
    when you held me
    so very close
    and opened your coat
    so I could be warm
    and I could feel
    our hearts beating
    so hard, so fast,
    and then, when
    our eyes met
    I’ll never forget
    how my breath
    got caught somewhere
    in the middle of my chest
    and all of me ached
    and yearned with
    such sudden fire
    it took me by
    I looked up again
    and met your eyes
    I saw your fear
    and eagerness
    and with a pulse
    of something

    Yes, that.

    Do it again.

    Diana Terrill Clark

  5. shellcook

    Let’s Do That Again


    These are just a few
    of the possibility words,
    we understood as kids.
    We watched, awestruck,

    with impossible dreams
    as fire fed rockets
    reached into the deep blue sky
    in search of more.

    Bright eyed children
    and reverential adults
    pinned their hopes
    on the stars, and humanity was

    brought together by a common desire.
    The world, held its breath in wonder,
    at the sheer possibility
    of something other.

    Let’s do that again.
    Let’s stretch out our arms to the stars,
    and touch the hand of God.


  6. m_deane

    Would I
    do it again? Meet you on a Sunday,
    Move in on Saturday, marry on a Friday.

    Maybe it was never us,
    but the days we chose, picked
    to do something so momentous as trying to


  7. Walt Wojtanik


    Tomorrow is today.
    Say goodbye to today,
    The tapestry of your life keeps
    repeating, going where you lead.
    No matter what you throw out there
    it comes back to you in spades.
    Saying what you said yesterday,
    and yesterday,
    and yesterday.
    And yesterday has gone
    so far away. It’s too late
    for all that jazz, man.
    The earth moves , I feel it!
    You’re got a friend to help you
    deal with it. You’ve come back.
    Welcome home!

  8. Walt Wojtanik


    And so you’re resurrected,
    come back from the dead instead of getting
    your just rest. Who’d have guess life
    could be so arbitrary. Now that you’re here
    it’s very clear, nothing has changed,
    not a thing rearranged. You thought things
    would be different this time. What a life? Again.

  9. Janet Rice Carnahan


    Brother-in-law challenge,
    Head to the beach,
    Reporting the biggest surf,
    Adrenalin rushing in,
    Pounding like the waves,
    Surveying the breeze,
    Sets rolling towards us,
    Skill of the existing body surfers,
    Assessed for safety and completion!
    Dare to do it,
    Agreed, we paddled out,
    Mountainous swells,
    Courage tested,
    Each set coming in faster,
    Higher than the last,
    Plunge down,
    Looked daunting,
    We managed to go beyond.
    Heights of these water giants,
    Felt like being carried on a moving chariot,
    Rumbling along some water way,
    Threatening to slaughter us,
    In a moment’s notice!
    As we planned our best approach,
    To ride,
    This tide,
    We noticed the locals,
    Exiting the water,
    Making the snap judgment,
    They knew something we didn’t.
    Forming a plan,
    As set after set,
    Snarled its way towards us,
    We turned our boards,
    To catch the next one, towering the last,
    Fast as we could,
    With an up swelling prayer,
    We’d clear the air,
    We took the dare,
    Flying down the face of one large,
    Mass of liquid motion,
    Hoping the ocean,
    Would not swallow us whole!
    Escaping minor injuries,
    Some random coral,
    Scrapping our backs,
    We emerged triumphant,
    Thrilled to have survived,
    The big ones,
    That didn’t get away,
    Even to this day,
    I would absolutely do it again . . .
    Only because I lived to tell about it!

  10. Pat Walsh

    Do It Again
    by Patrick J. Walsh

    tiny eyes misting
    lower lip quivering
    her little brother seemed
    about to fall apart

    shaking her head
    c’mon don’t cry
    I didn’t mean to cut you off
    go ahead — do it again

    hesitantly he began
    reciting the titles
    of all the songs on the disc
    until she started to smile

    I’ll do it
    first thing tomorrow
    before we go to school
    I’ll ask Mom to get it for you

    weary but brave
    he wheeled around
    and without a word further
    marched off silent to bed

  11. Jolly2

    by John Yeo

    Do you remember our trip last year?
    We must DO IT AGAIN.
    A day on the beach by the seaside,
    Sun sea and a sandy shore
    Always very exciting.

    A tent and the windbreak, a couple of chairs
    With a packed lunch and a football.
    Buckets and spades to build sand-castles,
    Books to read and sun-tan lotion
    A very well practised affair.

    The trip, always full of surprises
    Everything seemed to go wrong.
    The weather went haywire for starters.
    A sky of charcoal grey full of rain
    With gusty winds to help us along.

    Many families are on the beach
    Keeping a stiff upper lip.
    Making the most of the moment,
    Shivering to show their enjoyment
    Of a watery sun that suddenly shone.

    Football, then lying on the beach
    With sand in our toes that tickled.
    Paddling and splashing in the sea.
    Will Grandma go in for a swim?
    Now the weather has changed for the better.

    Sandy sandwiches, with crisps and fruit,
    Will there be enough to eat?
    Ice-cream, fish and chips and whelks,
    To finish our five star affair.
    Then the rain started with a trickle.

    We packed up quickly and headed for home.
    An enjoyable day except for the rain.
    We all agreed, we could hardly wait to
    Come back to the sandy seaside and

    Copyright © Written by John Yeo, All rights reserved

  12. tunesmiff

    G. Smith (BMI)
    I went off to Georgia Tech,
    When I shoulda gone to Carolina;
    It wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done.
    And while math for me was like trying to tear down,
    The Great Wall of China,
    The most important thing I learned there was,
    You were the one.

    And I’d do it again and again and again.
    I’d do it again;
    With you.
    I’d do it again and again and again.
    I’d do it again;
    It’s true.
    No matter what you think,
    No matter what you’ve heard,
    I’d do it again and again and again.
    I’d do it again;
    With you.

    I ended up at Georgia State,
    Night school, working a forty-hour week.
    I don’t know how we did it but we did.
    We were so busy coming and going, it was like living
    A game of hide and seek
    But still through everything we managed
    To have a kid.

    And I’d do it again and again and again.
    I’d do it again;
    With you.
    I’d do it again and again and again.
    I’d do it again;
    It’s true.
    No matter what you think,
    No matter what you’ve heard,
    I’d do it again and again and again.
    I’d do it again;
    With you.

    Sure it’s not always been real easy,
    And sure, some times have been real tough.
    Our life together hasn’t been all sunny and breezy,
    But we’ve always had love, and more than enough.

    And I’d do it again and again and again.
    I’d do it again;
    With you.
    I’d do it again and again and again.
    I’d do it again;
    It’s true.
    No matter what you think,
    No matter what you’ve heard,
    I’d do it again and again and again.
    I’d do it again;
    With you.

  13. Sara McNulty

    Montauk Moments

    Strolling the sands
    of Montauk beach,
    easy to reach from
    a small trail across
    from our cabin
    on Old Montauk Highway.
    Opening front room curtains
    to reveal a front row
    seat to the Ocean’s jewels.

    Relaxing on lounge chairs
    at the pool, reading,
    and going for a swim.
    Sometimes we’d buy
    our breakfast at the local
    bakery, and take it down
    to the beach, under first
    glimmer of pale sun.

    Wine-accompanied seafood
    dinners, browsing in small
    shops, and stopping at
    Herb’s Market for the best
    fried chicken we’d ever had.

    Late at night the moon
    spreading a skirt
    of soft light over
    the ocean.

  14. BDP

    “We’re At the Age”

    …that recalls youth, when we rose
    together, owned Main Street, never aspired to be angels
    but wanted our cars to fly. Even on a twenty miles per hour roll
    through town we knew speed—it kept us in order,
    the wanting of it, but being afraid of it, also. Parishes
    were on our route. And storefronts. But no country
    leaf-arbored lane that begged for silences.
    We craved noise, gave pulse to engine horses.

    We angle-parked near City Hall, sat in the musky sun,
    the Dairy Bar’s pinball pings wafting like a plucked guitar,
    an arcade game we’d played since outgrowing the category children,
    neoned flippers had now become passé and words
    got us where we wanted to go, along with wheels, a back seat in the rain,
    arms and legs more awkward than a broken branched tree,
    but we needed this, our time
    to create our own flashing bells.

    Believed in the beauty of “endlessly,”
    thought exploration had no lead wings, mistook earth for sky,
    put off thinking of time’s drum.
    We ignored life’s one true charge—
    there’s an end. It patrols
    deed, tosses us to fields

    futile, full of hopes, or grown fertile. Here’s ripened barley
    whose seeds wind-blow and make a starred sky.
    But remember the parable of strong oxen?
    No one thought to feed them. We dreamed of mangoes—
    unrealistic, but our lives stretched before us—farms
    of mangoes, heard fanciful roosters
    among horizon sugarcane,
    tasted salvation in reverie cocoa,
    fabricated our fortune
    instead of earning it, folly’s cuirass
    held our various losses to us, we aspired to silk

    and finally realized we might never have it. Sequent waves
    ruled us then, rule us now. The cars parading in sunset’s foam
    in our hometown, the maples like lichens
    for heaven’s underside, we still float over asphalt, each car a water-lily
    when we approached our emotions timidly,
    when emotions still had a positive face.
    We sit here with old jukebox songs
    filling our heads, is that so wrong? Let’s say youth’s not for laments
    but something to build on when hopes have emigrated
    to those younger, let’s go back to steamed windows under that oak tree.

    –Barb Peters

    I don’t know if I have to say this or not, but this poem’s end words are from the end words of a poem by Jorge Carrera Andrade, “Biography for the Use of Birds,” trans. Donald Devenish Walsh.

  15. De Jackson


            Same old.






  16. De Jackson

    The Recent Reprise of Silence

    There’s a certain shhhhhhh
    when she holds her breath,
    the slow and quiet death
    of busy-ness and need for
    brilliance. Her resilience
    comes in these sea-salted
    places, traces of ink pulled
    over pre-stained skin. Begin
    to know her here in this re
    -flection, this change of
    direction, and you’ll see: to
    -morrow’s every bit as muted
    as she molds it to be.


  17. shellkaysm


    Do we have full power
    to carve our own paths
    each and every day?
    We can always wonder.

    One different decision or step
    could revise our life story’s plot,
    but, we’ll never know for sure.
    Are losses as valuable as gains?

    Though some results
    I’d surely like to alter,
    I’m a firm believer in
    not messing with the “kismetting.”

    Would we be right here, either way?
    Are choices chosen before we even choose,
    only making it seem as if we grapple,
    waver, eeny meeny our way through?

    I’d say that it’s true
    we are whom we are, here,
    because of the combined balance
    of all the plusses and minuses.

    So, no, I would not pick
    to do any of the anythings
    I’ve already done over again.
    I’ll keep my bet on the kismet.

  18. Meriadoc


    Never been much of a Return person
    It seems that it’s all been said
    And you never can really go back
    except for the thoughts in your head

    But I really truly enjoyed it
    can’t say that it wasn’t good
    Forward is the gear that I go in
    have to make that understood.

    Moments are to be Treasured
    Lightning like, then pass away
    Even if I did try to go back
    I could not recapture that day

    Nor should I want or wish to
    Because once it all has been said
    you never can really go back
    except for the thoughts in your head


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.