2017 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 3

Poeming on Day 1 shows intent! Poeming on Day 2 shows you can follow up! Poeming on Day 3 means you’ve established a habit! Don’t forget to poem along through the weekend too!

For today’s prompt, write a triangle poem. As a shape, the triangle is interesting with its three sides and three corners (that add up to 180 degrees). As an instrument, the triangle is every bit as cool as a cowbell or tambourine. But there are also love triangles, triangulated coordinates, and other triangle stuff. It’s time to triangulate poetry.


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Discover a new universe of poetic possibilities and apply it to your poetry today!

Click to continue.


Here’s my attempt at a Triangle Poem:

“back when mtv played music videos”

i would spend hours in front of the television
watching video after video so that i now
live my life feeling like i’m in a music video

which is kind of cool but sometimes doesn’t
match up to reality for instance one of my
favorite music videos ever was phil collins’

“against all odds” which made the movie
of the same name seem like the coolest
movie ever which i hate to spoil it but no

the movie put me to sleep but the power
of music videos is how the drama of
a love triangle can be built and a movie

compressed into three minutes of action
& phil collins’ voice climaxing into
the final few notes that made everything

at least feel like it might be possible


Robert Lee Brewer

Robert 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 grew up on MTV and the power of love. “Against All Odds” was one of his favorite music videos, but he can’t come close to saying which was his favorite, and he misses the golden days of being able to watch music on television.

Follow him on Twitter @robertleebrewer.


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226 thoughts on “2017 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 3

  1. De Jackson

    Walter, continuing our Triolet Play from yesterday, with the new prompt:

    Psychotic Triangle

    She has a different face to mark her mood
    (isosceles is her favorite of the three.)
    All things being equal, all things good,
    she has a different face to mark her mood.
    Scalene sometimes serves her as it should,
    and equilateral’s the most agreeable, you see.
    She has a different face to mark her mood
    (isosceles is her favorite of the three.)

    1. Walter J Wojtanik


      isosceles is her favorite of the three.
      It puts her in full control.
      For it is cool as cool can be,
      (isosceles is her favorite of the three.)
      Just a few cubes in her Oolong Tea
      (with three you get egg roll)
      isosceles is her favorite of the three.
      It puts her in full control.

      1. De Jackson

        Degrees, in Threes

        It puts her in full control,
        that pointy protractor device.
        When she’s on a geometry roll,
        it puts her in full control.
        She measures each angle in full,
        and sometimes she measures them twice.
        It puts her in full control,
        that pointy protractor device.

        1. Walter J Wojtanik


          That pointy protractor device,
          a nice tool if you need an angle.
          Everyone has one, so here’s some advice,
          that pointy protractor device
          will make your angles neat and nice!
          Without one, your angle you will mangle.
          That pointy protractor device,
          a nice tool if you need an angle.

  2. De Jackson

    Equals, Laterals, and All Things in Between

    This poem is a three
    -pronged force
    of nature, an isosceles breeze.

    And when she wonders,
    where has my poly

    she knows it’s time
    for her to exit
    this scalene scene.


  3. Valkyri

    (Work in Progress)

    Triangle Acrostic

    three are known to us
    revealing a trinity sublime
    i have devoted myself to them
    angels on high sing divine praises
    neverending hallelujahs
    god the father, the son and the holy spirit
    let us praise their glory

  4. Eileen S

    My Engineer

    As a little girl, she liked building things.
    Snow fell and she would build a ramp
    out of hardened snow so that she could slide
    down the icy hill for a few more days until
    the sun melted it all away.
    She went to college and studied engineering.
    She read books with all kinds of symbols,
    formulas and triangle drawings
    that I couldn’t begin to understand.
    A bright and talented woman,
    she studied in Alaska and worked on
    a project to bring energy to the arctic.
    Even though she had many
    opportunities and adventures, I
    still think of her as the school girl
    building the snow ramp.

  5. Walter J Wojtanik


    Look to the night sky to find me.
    I’ll be the wisp of cloud that hides the three.
    You’ll see me in the stars, the moon and Venus.
    Between us, a cosmic collide
    but it will not hide from us for long,
    as long as we look to the sky.
    Horizons will beckon, planets will call
    and all we’ll see are the silent three.
    Near the sea, you and I will be
    that sensation of elation,
    a great triangulation,
    that distant touch
    that means so much to two
    because of three.
    We own the night alright.
    The moon, the stars and Venus are ours.

  6. Walter J Wojtanik


    Each time she dons the mask, it begins.
    She has a different face to mark her mood.
    A shot to his Adam’s apple, her sin,
    Each time she dons the mask, it begins.
    When you trust a snake you never will win,
    No three strikes, you’re out for good.
    Each time she dons the mask, it begins.
    She has a different face to mark her mood.

    ** Reworked yesterday’s lead to fit today’s prompt…

  7. Jrentler

    where you at Johnny Pilgrim?

    pores powdered till no shine
    in a trailer on a location

    the way to find:
    the art of triangulation
    seek three past points

    the maze, the all-father & the lamb

    high stalks with golden ears
    turn the wrong way
    & make ready for jeers
    from peers whose comraderie
    was never won

    for farmkids detect fusarium
    & purple corn blight fast

    & thanks to all-father
    for now i see
    through the shock
    of aversion therapy
    i was born of your defective seed

    i’m on my knees
    but prayers bounce back
    off pennsylvanian skies

    & so I’ll play
    on stage
    give me a cloak, a dagger
    and I’ll be

    a son that burns so bright
    that your fields ignite
    and you and your lands
    explode, popping
    fluffy & white
    into my hands

    till then i’ll toy
    like a good little boy
    with a lamb
    & she dances
    for the assembled in furs

    & she’s kept up
    on her back two hooves
    a coat of curls stitched and stuffed
    with the finesse
    of a maker in love with curves

    & I baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

    till a knock
    and I know
    it’s not god
    at my honey wagon door

  8. grcran

    “as we lived through those beautiful days in the Golden Triangle” Austin Lounge Lizards

    His house started up a loud jangle
    The neighbors all called for the strangle
    In a musician’s wrath
    He’d done the wrong math
    And installed incorrect right triangle

    gpr crane

  9. headintheclouds87

    Triangle Hearts

    Don’t go getting tangled
    In twisted romantic triangles,
    With their corners so sharp,
    Accusing, battling angles
    Where two sides compete
    For the coveted centrepiece
    Of forbidden affection’s release.
    But soon the shape falls apart
    Shattering a pile of hearts
    That should never have put trust
    In a mind tainted with double-lust
    That hungered for more than straight lines.

  10. taylor graham


    Autumn’s come and, with it, lost hunters, kids
    escaping school into the haunted woods,

    old people walking away from their lives –
    summer birds who sense December coming.

    And then a search alarm in the middle
    of the night. His pack is packed, a compass

    in his pocket. He can triangulate;
    knows the ancient art of divination

    and navigation. Mother Earth’s truth north.
    And on a clear night he can trust the stars.

  11. Tom Hayes

    Triangle Testament

    They come in variety,
    Equilateral. Isosceles or
    with variable height.
    Drawn to angular perfection
    They venture out and change direction
    before returning home.
    Quite Like adolescent forrays
    into adulthood,
    Inquisitive, adaptive but secure.
    A shape so pure.
    Restrained by geometric law,
    yet, no matter how you draw,
    They make their point,
    Threefold !

  12. cobanionsmith


    At three years old, a world of threes.
    How old are you? He grins. I’m free!
    Yes! (And no.) T-H’s are tricky.

    He knows, like brother, dad, and me,
    he won’t stay that way. Little boys
    grow up (and in) eventually.

    Triangles’ points and sides of three,
    crooked boat sail, your crayoned sea,
    your favorite shape. Stay ever free.

    Courtney O’Banion Smith

  13. Janet Rice Carnahan


    Shall we waltz again
    To here and there
    And back again
    Shape up the dance floor
    Marvelous, tireless motions
    Avoiding the temporary madness
    You in your midnight blue dress
    Falling a bit too long
    Flashy worn out heels
    With buckles too tight
    Me in my aging charcoal suit
    Lopsided lazy look
    Alabaster, stained tie
    Slightly torn
    We’ll triangulate all night
    With choice melodies
    We sing in our minds
    You’ll accuse me of something base
    And until we promenade
    To a parade of hits again
    We’ll surely enough
    Go round and round
    Once more
    Most certainly
    Without a doubt
    Way off key

  14. Domino

    Unwitting Triangle

    So you go along together
    side-by-side with this person you
    think to spend the rest of your life with.

    It’s good, you love them. All is well.
    But sometimes you imagine they aren’t
    completely with you. Something’s missing.

    You don’t know what it is, so you pry.
    Ask some deep questions. You are rebuffed.
    Which is odd, aren’t you a couple?

    You go on, now with a niggling doubt.
    Trying not to see what you think you see.
    Sometimes the question: where have you been?

    On learning they’ve been with another.
    It’s almost not a surprise at all,
    but that won’t stop the sharpened sorrow

    that is yours to treasure for always,
    this knowledge you never were a duo,
    you have always been a triangle.

  15. taylor graham


    Rocky Bar’s the vertex angle, east point –
    one side’s the road to Grizzly Flat; Slug Gulch
    the second; Mt. Aukum Road is the base.
    The vertex: needle of our desire.

    One side’s the road to Grizzly Flat. Slug Gulch
    on the far side, deep canyon in between.
    A cold hard rain, river high. December

    the second. Mt. Aukum Road is the base
    travel route. We headed down out of sight.
    The river raging. And up the far side?

    The vertex, needle of our desire,
    pricked us further – venturing the unknown:
    Slug Gulch. So far from home; soaked to the bone.

  16. Connie Peters

    Hanauma Bay

    Being of hearty stock,
    I, well into women’s plus sizes,
    am the most petite of the five
    that headed to Hanauma Bay.

    As we waddled to the water
    wearing our large triangular footwear,
    I worried when we’d go bottoms up
    we’d be mistaken for a pod of whales.

    But worries were forgotten
    when we glided along underwater
    breathing like a group of Darth Vaders
    spying on colorful inhabitants.

    I tried not to think of
    creatures our tour guide
    referred to as the “S word.”
    as I followed my daughter.

    When she pointed, I realized
    I was seeing only the large fish;
    about as blind as cave creatures,
    I missed the smaller ones.

    Out of the water, with my glasses on,
    seeing her sparkly-eyed enthusiasm
    I knew she had found something
    that made her feel alive.

    I sat on my beach chair and pondered
    why we go through life like automatons
    when there’s such amazing wonders
    as fins, snorkels and Hanauma Bay.

  17. Kiri


    I am androgynous,
    wet-faced, and later
    begging you to stay
    while I imagine her
    thrusting above me
    whipping cream white
    boyish breasts bouncing
    backward rolling
    brown-surrounded pupils
    wide irises and a failed diamond
    scratching a second try
    into my hairless skin.
all three of us tracing lines
    all six forearms embracing,
    a corset on my floating bones,
    my new, sweet vanilla
    sawdust-scented identity,
    a remedy for lost time;
    our shared life of fluid vows.
    come back to me.
    come powerless but wanting, come.
    I am shaped differently now
    ill-fitted to our prototypes, to anyone,
    but I can offer you belonging
    and everything you know.
    I can be the other woman
    for both of us.

  18. Linowen


    November smiles and winks at me
    as I lean on his old oak tree.

    His redbirds chirp and dip and flutter.
    My heart laughs at the tune they utter.

    Even leaves drift down and giggle
    as a breeze brings me a tickle.

    I blush, romanced as Autumn’s chill
    steals me away with windswept thrills.

    Now, how will I explain to Spring
    this sudden crush… November’s fling?

    Falling further into love,
    I skip into a memory of

    a pile of leaves that call to me,
    “Jump here, and play! Be childhood free!”

    Even Spring can’t give me that
    (…only sprouts and balls and bats).

    What can I say? I’m here today
    while Spring is many months away!

    November winks and teases more.
    It’s you, dear Autumn, I adore!

  19. MET

    Office of Remembrance

    My small office has four things on the wall:
    A thermos in a leather case, a gavel
    From the Rotary Club, Da was president once, and
    Two T bars used in his job of building roads…

    After supper our dining table became his office,
    He sat for hours with triangles, those T-bars, and
    Arches and paper to do the math…
    Sometimes there were maps of a parkway
    That had to be rerouted so to avoid too much
    Underground water which would cause later slides…
    I remember the years that he had an idea
    Of to use erosion to control erosion…
    He told me how it was to work. A step-slope
    Which would with time and erosion become smooth….
    An equation based on angles based on the type of soil…
    The more rocky or claylike the deeper the steps…
    The sandy soil could be small steps…
    I remember picking up one of his triangles, and
    Asking him how it worked….
    He explained to me that curves have grades
    So, the driver can handle them smoothly… and
    A triangle is basically an angle of three….
    When you build a road… you must remember
    The invisible triangle that makes up the shape of the grade…
    He taught me much about building roads, and
    I still know the recipe for the best road…
    Twelve inches of wetted and compacted soil,
    Twelve inches of compacted gravel and
    Six inches of compacted asphalt…
    A smell that always reminds me of him…
    The man who loved roads, and
    Loved me, and taught me
    Never to take the dignity from any person
    Because that sometimes all that they owned.

    I sit in my office remembering the days
    He created equations…
    The man who dropped out of high school, and
    Had a dream and taught himself to build roads
    And loved the parkway through the Blue Ridge the best
    For it carried his heart in every mile, and
    When I ride on that road… I see him there
    Walking and studying and creating equations
    Based on soil types and angles of invisible triangles.
    I am still amazed…

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    November 3, 2017

      1. MET

        He also wrote poetry… mostly stories but he wrote one to the Blue Ridge Parkway…. He started out as a axman and surveyor and worked himself up to Division Engineer over the southeast and the building of the parkways and then he decided he wanted to be the first Ecological Engineer and finished out his last year as that… He died this month thirty years ago… sometimes it seems like yesterday that he left… and thank you so much for your remark…

        1. Linowen

          Mary, I am so sorry for your loss. It may be thirty years, but a love like yours knows no timeframe. You have beautifully introduced many to your wonderful husband. Come to think of it, all poets are road builders, and perhaps all road builders are poets. What an intriguing thought!

          1. MET

            He was my father…. but when he died I lost the one person who thought like me… not the actual thoughts but how we processed things… once my brothers and I were sitting around the dining table I mentioned in the poem above… and Da said to us…” I have three sons and none of them are like me but my daughter is exactly like me.” Funny when Ma got mad at me she would always say … you are exactly like your father. and I would say thank you and she would then say… I did not mean it as a compliment… but I got what she meant… our minds were often so fast moving it left us dizzy… and it was hard for him to rest and the same is with me…

  20. Kay Butzin


    I remember in grade school how Dad
    would sit with me at the table after dinner,
    drawing diagrams on napkins to illustrate
    two trains traveling at the same speed
    in opposite directions

    And how I would end up in tears
    because I could not follow
    the confusing calculations.

    So I would not have elected Geometry
    that first year at Saginaw High
    ‘tho I found I was good at memorizing
    theorems and figuring areas, angles,
    and perimeters of equilateral, isosceles,
    and scalene triangles.

    But it was really my seat in the last row
    surrounded on three sides by boys
    that made Mr. Eichmeier’s my favorite class.

  21. Melanie

    Ours is not an equilateral triangle

    I have most of his money
    And some of his time
    And all of his dirty washing

    She has all of his stolen moments
    And all of his promises
    But no ring on her finger yet

    He has all of the charm
    And all of the lies
    And none of his vows unbroken

  22. Nancy Canyon

    Cry Harder

    A trine is supposed to be easy,
    but not between a Pisces moon
    and Uranus in sensitive Cancer.
    It just makes me feel emotional.
    Once I said to my writing professor,
    I’m feeling emotional today. He said,
    Read Two Girls, Fat and Thin. So I did.
    I have a new perspective on emotional
    now. The girl nicknamed “Emotional”
    was burdened with troubles. It’s only
    Nov.3 and last night we had our first
    snowstorm. Today I feel excited, not
    gray, a better state than emotional

  23. KM

    I don’t want to believe in mystery. UFOs, Bigfoot, a certain magic triangle in the Atlantic Ocean that transports sailors and pilots to a different dimension. I don’t want to know the feeling of your open hand on my bare thigh, the pinch of your teeth on the back of my neck. I want to believe that drawing three lines in the sand will stop us from going any further. Creates borders we dare not cross, angles that let us see distinctions. There is a center, in even the most imperfect triangles. Vertex to midpoint, crossed and measured three ways. A place that is either a beginning or an end. A question or an answer. Something more than a vortex, sucking us down to somewhere.

    – Kim Mannix

  24. ReathaThomasOakley

    Triangles are strong because of
    inherent structural characteristics.

    Our base is forged from
    past pain and future plans,
    I stand on one side, you
    on the other, I lean across,
    you lean across to me,
    we touch hands,
    symmetry complete.

  25. Earl Parsons

    Life is But a Triangle

    Life is but a triangle
    It’s left or right or straight ahead
    No fourth direction for a choice
    That would make life a square
    And then we could go backwards

    Life is but a triangle
    It’s up or down or stay the course
    Our path in life is up to us
    Of course we can go ‘round and ‘round
    Is that the circle of life?

    Life is but a triangle
    Don’t waste your time looking back
    Or spinning ‘round and ‘round in place
    Go left or right or straight ahead
    The only logical choices

    Life is but a triangle
    You win, you lose, you try
    You’re born, you live, you die

    © 2017 Earl Parsons

  26. MET

    Rack Them Up

    I love shooting pool, or
    Billiards if you are more refined…
    It is full of angles and triangles, and
    Shapes like circles and rectangles….
    Set in a room that is more of a box
    That can be elaborate with leather chairs
    And a bar or some dusty bar
    That people at the end of the day
    Stop by for a beer and a joke or two…
    There is a bet somewhere, and
    There is the show off who struts around the room
    Flexing his chest, something akin to a rooster
    In his barnyard kingdom…
    But it is the game made up of balls and rectangles…
    And all those angles of invisible triangles, and
    The one visual one when someone says
    “Rack them up!”
    And we wait for the crack and the thunder
    Of one white ball colliding those just freed, and
    Watch them scatter
    The sound is a challenge…
    Can you do the math of plain geometry…
    Of angles and invisible triangles
    On a table made of slate and covered in felt, and
    It was the only use I ever found
    For figuring out the angles of a triangle
    To make that perfect shot, and
    Run the table….
    To pick up that bet I had made earlier.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    November 3, 2017

    By the way this was great fun to write… in my youth… I was quite good shooting pool…

  27. JRSimmang


    Walk to me
    while I walk to you;
    we’ll close in
    on perfect.
    It’s true that the nearer our
    lips are to touching,

    the more we must tilt
    our heads to glimpse the divine
    beauty of stillness.

    -JR Simmang

  28. Eileen S

    Triangle of Today

    Three words I think about: Gratitude, Contentment and Focus

    I will go through the day being grateful.
    I will seek happiness in my activities.
    I will think about today and today’s activities.

    Today is the day that I live for today.
    I won’t live in the past.
    I won’t regret the present.

    My triangle has three parts.
    Gratitude Contentment Focus.

  29. annell

    Fragments Geometry and Change

    yes my paintings    are based on the shape of the triangle     one triangle shape

    next to the other     repeated over and over      creating new patterns

    by the constantly changing color    as the world is constantly changing    we are changing

    our one constant is change    each side of the triangle     equal or not

    one of the oldest symbols of women     the use of the triangle     allows color

    to overlap or interpenetrate    blur spatial distinctions     patterns appear

    disappear and reappear     shapes seem to both emerge     and submerge

    the surface of the painting becomes     like a field of vision     called colorfield

    each day i dive deep    into the work     a form of active meditation

    the artist that stands before the easel    is not always present     i travel far and wide

    November 3, 2017

        1. Bruce Niedt

          Thank you Walt! That was it. The “offending” word in my poem was apparently “cocktail” believe it or not. So I changed my wording from “cocktail party” to “dinner party”. Sheesh. I was active on another site some time ago that censoring words too, and it censored “Emily D*ckinson” -just like this one is now!

  30. SarahLeaSales

    Vera Donna

    As they drew closer to her,
    they drew closer to each other,
    finding out that they were not
    her One and only.
    So, where there had been two,
    there were now none.
    And it came to pass
    when she met The One,
    the taste of her own narcotic
    was familiar,
    for she was not
    his only one.

  31. RJ Clarken

    Triangle Eyes

    “Pumpkins are the only living organisms with triangle eyes.” ~Harland Williams

    At Halloween, you carve a pumpkin.
    Its eyes are cut with three sides
    unless you mangle the triangle
    but most kits come with some tracing guides.

    But, what of these triangular eyes?
    Geometry dictates. Seen,
    the triangle (unless you mangle)
    might be isosceles or scalene

    But seldom do you see other shapes
    carved into its gourdish face
    unless you mangle the triangle.
    And that would be a total disgrace.

    Although, there are artists who make art
    (after scraping pumpkin guts.)
    The triangle – unless you mangle –
    would then show the sculptor’s fancy cuts.

    But for most of us, the pumpkin’s eyes
    are tri-corner/tri-point shapes,
    unless you mangle the triangle
    and then, they more resemble sour grapes.


  32. rlk67

    Nov. the Third

    Sammy turns three!
    He has nothing to lose.
    He had much success
    with the ‘Terrible Twos’.

    Keep bawling and shrieking,
    Turn mom against pop!
    A triangle of wits,
    And at four he might stop.

  33. tripoet

    3 for All

    Like Athos, Porthos, and Aramis
    at a 3 Ring Circus.
    Hip, Hip, Hooray.
    Like Charlotte, Emily, Anne
    on The Nina, The Pinta, The Santa Maria.
    3 Wise Men
    Like Curly, Larry, and Moe
    in a 3 piece suit.
    on a 3 Dog Night.
    Not one, not two, but
    three blind mice.
    3 little kittens
    who lost their mittens.
    Like one, two, three
    times a lady
    Is three really a crowd?
    Pater, filius, et spiritus sancti. Amen

  34. RJ Clarken

    Grandiose Trinity

    “Arithmetic! Algebra! Geometry! Grandiose trinity! Luminous triangle! Whoever has not known you is without sense!” ~Comte de Lautreamont

    Just because you love the triangle,
    doesn’t mean the vortex is
    all about you. Beyond a doubt, you
    might be acute-ie but you’re not his.

    So don’t be obtuse, that is the point.
    There’s three sides to a story
    beyond a doubt. YOU? All about you?
    Yes, three angles are mandatory.

    Just too bad the equilateral
    isn’t what you focus on:
    All about you. Beyond a doubt, you
    want the apex for your pantheon.

    But life’s isosceles or scalene.
    Learn this and you’ll gain some sense.
    Beyond a doubt, you…all about you
    is geometry without pretense.


  35. Linda Rhinehart Neas

    Trilogy of the Exiled

    The story of their life
    told in books of three.

    First, a tale of beginnings –
    life lived in commonality –
    family, work, community.

    Second, a tragedy of sorts –
    a history of survival against
    despotism, injustice, persecution.

    The finale, an epic of hope –
    a journey to a promised land –
    liberty, justice, freedom for all.

  36. Misky


    We’re rolling dice,
    and it’s coming up 3s.
    Oddness coming up
    everywhere, and

    there’s a skull
    on my doctor’s desk,
    2 eyes and 1 nose,
    again holes in oddly 3s.

    And I saw a child,
    a ghost in a shroud,
    2 rounds for eyes
    and one there to speak.

    Is it an omen,
    these very oddly 3s.
    Threes and threes and
    3 steps on my garden path.

    Apples on the tree, and
    only 3 are left. And there,
    did you hear that —
    3 knocks at my door.

    And the breeze bristles
    through my wind chimes,
    3 triangles tied in a line.
    Omens all, oddly in 3s.

  37. AsWritten


    The way you used me
    left me scarred.

    I lost my meaning
    and you laughed –

    as if laughing undoes
    all the harm of lies.

    your lies –
    the ones you used me for.
    The ones you can’t take back.

    I may seem small to you,
    but my place in your world and
    the way you speak of me matters.

    So think before you use me.
    Think before you re-define
    what’s sacred.

  38. Bushkill

    First blush at the poem of the day:

    Dear Triangle,

    You are a-cute and helpful thing, quite pointed in your opinions.
    You are full of wonder and rarely disposed to tangential topics.
    On those occasions when your diatribe is more obtuse,
    I caution you that such posturing can never be right.

    You laugh at me and bemoan the sin of my transgression
    For who would dare to challenge you?
    Again, I remind you that we never sin alone and that
    Our enjoined commitment to such devilry in fact makes us
    Coconspirators, cosin(ers).

    Hang in there, buddy, lest we search the upside down
    For an inverse relationship. I know that story arc well
    And would rather, for both our sakes,
    Keep it secret. Keep it safe.

  39. Walter J Wojtanik


    The three were wee when they came to be,
    in triplicate these siblings three
    born into the elfin tradition.
    Ernie was the oldest brother,
    Bernie was the boldest other,
    and fairest Fern, the sisterly addition.

    Ma and Pa could do no wrong,
    and sang their jolly elfin songs
    along with all their cohorts when they did toil.
    And when the triplets did arrive
    they joined in all that elfin jive,
    for to be sure, if the triplets were anything, they were loyal.

    The brothers hoped to grow into toy makers,
    with Fern a kooky cookie baker.
    (“Grow into” was a rather relative term.)
    For the three from very wee
    knew that was the way they would be
    as far as Ma and Pa could both discern.

    They honed their skills quite nicely
    and earned their way precisely
    the way the elfin people knew was good.
    Ernie and Bernie and Fern were the newest,
    and I, Santa Clause saw them as the truest
    representation of how every elfin one should.

    Both of the boys
    made marvelous toys,
    that was the way they competed.
    And Fernie perchance
    was “par excellence”
    and made the best cookies you’ve eated… er, eaten.

    The three were wee when they came to be,
    in triplicate these siblings three
    destined to be elvin by birth.
    Ernie was the oldest brother,
    Bernie was the boldest other,
    and sisterly Fern was the fairest on earth.

    1. pmwanken

      FA LA LA

      Tis (almost) the season
      for all things Christmas!
      No need for treason,
      tis (almost) the season!
      Though I need no reason
      (as Mr. Claus’ Mrs.)
      tis (almost) the season
      for all things Christmas!


      I decided a TRIolet would be my take on the “TRIangle” prompt.

  40. AsWritten

    COORDINATES by Ken Bentz

    Three words is all it takes
    to find the location
    of your mind.

    Any three.
    It’s easy.

    Try not to think of love
    if love is what
    you want to think.

    Try not to think of anger
    if life has turned
    on you.

    Try not to think of pink bears
    or clowns
    or any other words

    that only found their way
    to you because
    someone put them there.

    So choose three words
    and know that
    those three words

    are you.

  41. tmilleroftexas

    Life Isosceles
    by Terry Jude Miller

    composed of three slides
    one family
    one work
    one self

    it seems one is always shorter
    than the other two

    look deeply
    into my hungry eyes
    to determine

    which one

  42. Walter J Wojtanik

    FLYING “V”</strong)

    High above the cliff they fly
    a tribute of sort off for a short stretch.
    The three birds are the free spirits
    they have a point, high above the cliff.

    The first bird is Honor.
    Its flight takes a straight and true course,
    the source of all pride and achievement,
    no bereavement is complete without Honor bestowed.

    The second suspended in avian beauty is Respect,
    fully earned, in a circuitous route, for wherever
    it goes it is recognized for its ability and strength
    it would go to any length to earn what is returned.

    But the last bird holds a special mantle. It is Love.
    Higher above the others it flies, filling the skies
    as like many hearts with the devotion to family
    and country. A boundless gift lifting all to such heights.

    We all carry the spirit of that triumvirate of birds,
    and we continue to soar through their wings,
    a flight to pay tribute to all left behind to find it.
    The flight is endless, forever rooted in Honor, Respect and Love.


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