I never like sharing bad news, but I’m especially not fond of sharing family news. Marie Elena Good shared on Facebook that Andrea Heiberg, a member of the Poetic Asides family, died of cancer on Monday. Like so many on the street, she was an uplifting and poetic voice for so many other poets. She will be missed.
For today’s prompt, pick a popular saying and make that the title of your poem; then, write your poem. Some possible titles might include: “Blood Is Thicker Than Water,” “You Can’t Judge a Book By Its Cover,” “More Than You Can Shake a Stick At,” and so many others. Click here if you want more ideas.
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Order the New Poet’s Market!
The 2017 Poet’s Market, edited by Robert Lee Brewer, includes hundreds of poetry markets, including listings for poetry publications, publishers, contests, and more! With names, contact information, and submission tips, poets can find the right markets for their poetry and achieve more publication success than ever before.
In addition to the listings, there are articles on the craft, business, and promotion of poetry–so that poets can learn the ins and outs of writing poetry and seeking publication. Plus, it includes a one-year subscription to the poetry-related information on WritersMarket.com. All in all, it’s the best resource for poets looking to secure publication.
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Here’s my attempt at a Popular Saying Poem:
“not the sharpest tool in the shed”
not the sharpest tool in the shed
nor the brightest bulb in the house
not the prettiest bird in the sky
nor the wittiest man on the street
but i am your man & your fool
& anything else you need of me
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Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He’s not a sharp tool or bright bulb; he’s just a human being.
Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.
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Hide and Watch (or What Goes Around, Comes Around)
How quickly a child’s defiance rears its head.
How soon we learn that child will not be led,
will go her way, will cause herself some harm
we might have spared her if we knew the charm
for wayward children. She will learn to ache,
to sleep on many beds that she will make,
to practice trial and error, do or die,
to be a teacher, doctor, writer, spy,
to travel roads we didn’t know were there,
to speak of causes we scarce gave a care.
And then to be a mother late in years,
at last to worry, understand our fears,
and see defiance written small as grace
in her own daughter’s smiling impish face.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder
Rings true this saying of old
for your delayed appearance
frays my nerves, grating them
into shreds upon anticipation’s mandoline
Wherefore art thou, o mine affection?
What cause have you given to
kindle the dormant embers
of my emotive chamber
fanning them into a frenzy
with every conversation, chortle
imagined caress
You haunt my daydreams
and embrace my nightmares
A world without you turns to
purgatory
I wish we had never met
but if you disappear now
my heart will shatter
a thousand times
each jagged shard
a constant reminder of
what could never have been
At the End of the Day
At the end of the day I
Love you with all my heart
And the beginning and the middle
And every moment in between
At the end of the day I
Love you more than at
The beginning or the middle, or
Any other moment in between
To Make A Long Story Short
He left…
We lived!!
Burst your bubble
as the butterflies arise from the rubble
on their way to the flowers honey meal,
as the father lets his kids go from the safe
heaven of paternity to the pain, from
the childhood to adultery; released and free
The Love should be. Post Scriptum:
The finest bedding is made of satin.
EASY COME…EASY GO
Easy come…easy go
Many say it…but
Is it really so?
I often question
The wisdom of things
We all say out of habit
Ask yourself…how hard it is
To banish grief…
Bad things come
Like frightful nightmares
If they come unexpected…so quickly
Shouldn’t they leave us the same way?
Maybe I’m weird…but I’m serious
Shouldn’t we think before we
Mouth silly platitudes?
© 2017 Robert Mihaly
Posted to:
https://artifiswordpresscom.wordpress.com/2017/04/28/easy-come-easy-go/
Quality Time
The implication is that quality
Transcends quantity.
Why go for a lot
When you can go for the best?
But when, really,
Did quality and quantity
Become enemies?
I want a quantity of
Quality time
With you.
http://www.crcreateaday.com
by: Karen Wilson
Silvery lined clouds
golden fleeced
homeless shelter’s full
You’re the Apple of My Eye
I think it’s strange, I must admit.
I think this metaphor’s unfit.
Pomaceous yields are not a lens
from which we see, you see my friends?
As academic issues go,
King Aelfred (yes, the Great) you know
was first to use this parallel.
Then Shakespeare wrote it, I heard tell.
But tell me this: how do you get
an apple in your eye? I bet
you have no answer that applies.
That’s all I’m saying. Word to wise.
Except consider: Is she cute?
Is he delicious? Are they fruit?
And if so, red or gold or green?
And how to pick? See what I mean?
So, if I were to say to you,
you handsome boy (or ingénue)
“You are the apple of my eye,”
I doubt that you would dignify
my pick-up line with your response.
At least, you’d act with nonchalance.
My thesis here, I think is made.
And thus, I end my orb’d tirade.
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a penny for your thoughts
if lincoln heard him, he would frown
in a world of cheapskates, he wears the crown
my thoughts are simply priceless!
one cent! he offers (i’m seeing red)
for all the contents in my head
if lincoln heard him, he would frown
one cent! he growls, this mad civilian
they’re worth much more, perhaps even millions
in a world of cheapskates, he wears the crown
one cent! he shouts, this ignoramus
i may not be rich; i may not be famous
but my thoughts are simply priceless!
“FAIR-WEATHER FRIENDS”
wave to me from the decks of cruise ships
nod to me as they enter merry bars
send me postcards from the Azores
now and then a small bouquet arrives
or intricate chocolates from Belgium
fair-weather friends wish me all the best
they are laughing across gardens, they are
dancing at the block party, they turn up
the music, they pass the canapés, they say
we love you, stay there at the margin, please
watch us through windows, smile at us, but don’t
bring any of your winter darkness here
So true and so good this poem.