2016 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 22

For today’s prompt, we’re on our fourth two-for-Tuesday prompt. So pick one, combine both prompts into one poem, or write two (or more) different poems. Here are the prompts:

  • Write a sharing poem. A poem about somebody sharing something. Or a poem about receiving something that was shared. Or witnessing an act of sharing. Or…
  • Write a selfish poem. We can also consider this the Ebenezer Scrooge poem (pre-ghosts).


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Here’s my attempt at a Sharing and/or Selfish poem:

“Teenage Confession”

My parents say I should share more; they say,
“You never talk to us any more. We
ask you questions about your day, and you
say things like, ‘Good,’ ‘Okay,’ or ‘Whatever.'”

My parents say I used to talk a lot,
like all the freaking time, like I would talk
myself to sleep, like I was a magnet
for words and they would then come out my mouth.

My parents don’t get any argument
from me. I remember talking to them,
spilling my life story, and hearing, “Not
now,” “Be quiet,” or “Pester someone else.”

My parents say I should share more; they say
it’s good to share, so I’ll share: Everything
I learned about being selfish and not
caring about others was shared by them.


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 and Writer’s Market, in addition to writing a free weekly WritersMarket.com newsletter and a poetry column for Writer’s Digest magazine.

He was fortunate to have parents who paid attention to him when he was young and still do to this day.

Follow him on Twitter @robertleebrewer.


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123 thoughts on “2016 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 22

  1. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    The Art of Selfish Sharing
    by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    “Noooooo! Mine!”
    4 yr old Chantal
    screeches and screams,
    clutching tightly
    to her chest the
    melty ice-cream cone,
    while the Shepard
    waits patiently
    for the tantrum
    to be over, and
    the chance to clean
    Neapolitan flavors
    off the face and
    the hands of a
    later giddy child
    inadvertently sharing
    her ice-cream
    after all.

    © 2017 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

  2. shellkaysm

    When Hearts Touch

    Why does it feel selfish to share?
    Indulgence dares!

    Why does camaraderie matter?
    Kindreds chatter.

    When’s enough just shy of too much?
    When two hearts touch.

    It’s still a struggle to lean, clutch
    hold of another, when you doubt
    your sense of worth, personal clout.

    Indulgence dares! Kindreds chatter. When two hearts touch.

  3. Pat Walsh

    Visiting friends who are ill at holiday time
    by Patrick J. Walsh

    we will share some food
    to mark the day
    as we have always

    treating our uninvited guest
    with only as much respect
    as he deserves

    sharing the joy
    of all the old stories
    as though he were not there

  4. Shennon

    Please understand why I share
    with reluctance.
    He’s my only son, my only child,
    and I need him
    to remain in my life
    with no restrictions
    on when I can see him,
    no qualms about hours
    spent reminiscing,
    about future plans,
    where I am included.
    You may think I’m selfish,
    because of our bond.
    But, because he loves you,
    I acquiesce, I share.


  5. Valkyri

    silence of snowfall in winter
    (christmas scene)
    a shared poem by scott eremchuk & (valeri paxton-steele)

    snow becomes blossoms silent blanket falling into place
    (a lonesome pine in a midnight field of diamond white)
    where sundrips made mark this gift called time
    (icicles cascade from the evergreen boughs)
    colors so emerald so gold shimmering starlight enhanced
    (hanging there like jack frost’s shiny crown)
    fantasia’s winter king of wondrous palace fantasy
    (the snowflakes glint as though they are tiny slivers of starshine)
    while off in the distance our own galaxy is glistening
    (sparkling from the moon’s radiance of wintery silver)
    a chalice a holy grail that carries the starfire’s mystery
    (in crystal clear silence on this gentle christmas night)
    once a star bright allowed wise men find their way

  6. Jane Shlensky

    Seasons of Giving

    “Give a feller a hand, would ye?”
    he says, sitting on the steps,
    old joints creaking like rusty
    screen doors, his beat-up guitar
    leaned on the rails. Passers-by
    hesitate and look at one another.

    They don’t understand his question.
    Does he want to be pulled up from
    his spot at the door? Does he want
    applause? Does he want them
    to consider giving to non-specific
    others? Is it a request or a yes-no
    question, Are you the sort of person
    who would give a fellow human
    being help? As they stand awkwardly
    considering, a skinny man covered
    in tattoos steps through the crowd,
    pulls him up and hands him a coffee
    in a paper cup. The old man dips
    into his pocket and hands him a dollar
    and a pick. For some inexplicable
    reason, on-lookers begin to applaud.

  7. Jane Shlensky

    Circle of Gift

    They hunger for the lecture
    long before opening night.

    Memorize, costumes, makeup,
    not act but behave. Lights!
    Let the fear flow straight
    through you, summon courage
    to play well the part. You will
    hold your trembling heart
    in your hand, offering it to
    strangers, watchers, but
    your trust in them will return
    to you a hundredfold,
    an energy that fills and buoys
    you, then circles back
    to them until you are caught
    as if by a golden filament
    of feeling, a cycle of gift,
    fed and feeding one another.
    Joy, love, hope, kindness
    all shared and sharing. It makes
    everything worthwhile,
    but you must know it all begins
    with you. When you step
    onto the stage prepared to give,
    only then do you receive.
    Once you feel this flow,
    you’ll want it in every part
    of your life…They nod, stare.

    It is the courage of art,
    of truth, of discovering your best
    and giving it no matter what.
    They listen as if there is more,
    waiting in silence, then leave
    the theatre to think before the show.

  8. Jane Shlensky


    He’s addicted to my wine cake
    and begs for it every birthday,
    a small gift for me to give.
    Then he parcels it out
    to his wife and sons,
    his mom, his secretary,
    his boss, who then share
    it with their friends
    until there’s one slice left,
    saved especially for him.

  9. tunesmiff

    G. Smith (BMI)
    When it’s time, you will know,
    When it’s time, you will know;
    Certain things are bound to show,
    When it’s time, you will know.

    When the bow hits the string,
    When the mandolin and guitar ring;
    When that high lonesome sound,
    Is the only way to to sing,
    Then it’s time, and you will know.

    When the banjo’s the only tone,
    That will keep you from feeling alone,
    And it goes down to your bones,
    Then it’s time, and you will know.

    When it’s time, you will know,
    When it’s time, you will know;
    Certain things are bound to show,
    When it’s time, you will know.

    On a porch, or on a stage,
    Played by ear, or from the page,
    String-bands are all the rage,
    And when it’s time, then you will know;
    And when it’s time, then you will know.

  10. tunesmiff

    G. Smith (BMI)
    When it all hits the fan
    When it all comes down,
    When the lights come up,
    Where will you be found?

    When the sun burns bright,
    When the cold winds blow,
    When there’s no stars at night,
    What will you know?

    When the roll,
    Is called up yonder,
    When the roll,
    Is called up yonder,
    When the roll,
    Is called up yonder,
    Will you ponder?
    Will you ponder?

    When the rains won’t quit,
    When the well runs dry,
    When it all turns to dust,
    How will you try?

    When words won’t come,
    When tears won’t cease,
    When your heart won’t heal,
    Why can’t you find peace?

    When the lights go out,
    When you’re too blind to see,
    When nobody notices,
    Who will you be?

    When the roll,
    Is called up yonder,
    When the roll,
    Is called up yonder,
    When the roll,
    Is called up yonder,
    Will you ponder?
    Will you ponder?

  11. headintheclouds87

    A Side to Share Sparingly

    I’ll share the side of me
    That others seldom see,
    The side that’s scared
    Of all possible futures
    That stretch ahead for me,
    The side that fears failure
    In an ever-demanding world,
    I’ll share it solely to you,
    Let you pull back my brave face
    And find the sensitive soul inside.

  12. lsteadly


    I’m hiking the mountain
    alone again seeing the trail
    fresh for the thousandth time
    as you make your way
    to California
    so I memorize for you
    the place where the moose
    stepped leaving his hand
    sized print in the hardening
    earth and I find
    a clump of the softest
    breast feathers waving gently
    in the grass that the crickets
    abandoned, the dry brown stalks
    whispering winter spells
    against the stones

    It appears all creatures
    deserted this raw November
    morning, the slate sky
    closed selfishly against the sun
    and a loneliness so deep
    weighs in the silence
    until I look up towards
    your earlier flight path
    where a raven calls,
    lifting his wings wide against
    the gray horizon, the last being
    here to share a time
    with this solitude

  13. PowerUnit

    It’s mine and will be, until I decide it isn’t. Regardless of what I say
    I know you still love me. It’s what you do.

    I didn’t join the club. I was a charter member.
    We all join, sooner or later. He gave us all free passes.

    It’s bound to happen. You don’t fold your hands.
    You withhold your grace. Did you ever think of what I might have said?

    Your wife is innocent. Be grateful for your love.
    The girl is untarnished., so far.

  14. DMK

    sharing and recieving a cold
    by Dawn Kvernenes

    in her room sleeping or writings
    Dani with limited visiits or sitings

    how one gets influenza with going out little
    is a mystery but with the congestion and aches there is no acquittle

    every cough or sneeze sprayed out in the air
    seem the household gets to share

    can not stop the gift that keeps giving
    when with friends or family your are living


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