Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 174

For this week’s prompt, change the title of a book (that you may or may not like), make that the title of your poem, and then write your poem. The poem doesn’t have to mirror the book. Possible titles might include: “As I Lay Crying” (instead of As I Lay Dying), “The Great Pumpkin” (instead of The Great Gatsby), or “The Fever Games” (instead of The Hunger Games).

Here’s my attempt:

“The Girl With the Dragonfly Tattoo”

There’s always a girl when it starts.
Though she might not have a tattoo,
she will gladly imprint your heart.
There’s always a girl when it starts,
that butterfly feeling imparts
a strong desire to act cuckoo.
There’s always a girl when it starts,
though a temporary tattoo.

Though she might not have a tattoo,
you still feel somewhat connected
to her as if she’d fall for you.
Though she might not have a tattoo,
you imagine dragonflies flew
across her skin, now protected.
Though just an imagined tattoo,
you still feel very connected.

*****

Connect with me on Twitter @robertleebrewer

*****

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275 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 174

  1. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    The Postman Never Rings Twice
    by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    I prefer to remain anonymous,
    that last minute poem
    slipped seductively
    under your front door
    just after hours,
    the envelope flap
    lusting in the stifling heat
    of oscillating quiet.

    © 2012 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

  2. Walt Wojtanik

    HERSCEL HEARS A WHAT?

    An elephant’s loyal one-hundred percent, but a hippopotamus
    Not so much, and as such Herschel the Hippo kept
    To himself and dreamed of returning to
    Israel to plant a tree and wail at the wall.

    Some of the other animals knew his
    Elephant cousin (who talked to dust), but they never
    Minded Herschel. They thought him different.
    Instead of welcoming the hippopotamus,
    They looked askance at the thick-skinned mammal
    Inciting remarks of the cruel and hurtful kind.
    Certainly, they knew that a Hebrew Hippo meant no harm.

    Regardless of what Mel Gibson spewed
    Everyone knew Herschel, though not loyal, was still a
    Mensch. It did not matter to Herschel.
    After all, he had heard that kind to hate speech before.
    Remarkably, he did not go mashuga and rampage,
    Killing the anti-semites. He just donned his yarmulke and boarded his flight.

  3. Walt Wojtanik

    A DEAR AND PLEASANT STRANGER

    A voice echoing my words and feelings
    across the lake it comes softly,
    hauntingly familiar. I know her.
    I’ve never met her. But her sound echoes,
    a placid refrain nestling eerily in my brain.
    Her fears are mine. Her joys too!
    Always at the ready with a heady rebuke,
    or an endearing worded embrace;
    compassion and grace are hers
    and she shares their effect gladly.
    Sadly, we are two who have never
    seen eye to eye to confirm that my reply
    matches hers – and hers, mine.
    A true sign of friendship that was planted
    and is tended daily and weekly,
    meekly surrendering to her wisdom
    and her Good-ness. It is witnessed
    in each poetic ponderance;
    caught in this metered dance, taking
    every chance to let her know
    how much I continue to grow
    through her nurturing gentility.
    Nothing to fear or loathe;
    a heart of gold. Clear and present.
    A dear and pleasant stranger.

  4. tunesmiff

    THE MEMOIRS OF AN INVISIBLE ME

    Using _The Memoirs of an Invisible Man_, by H. F. Saint, I propose the following, a “Woody-Guthrie~esque-Depression-era-folk-bluesy” thing, almost to the rhythm of “Going Down the Road Feeling Bad”.

    THE MEMOIRS OF AN INVISIBLE ME
    ——————————–
    When did I start fading a-way?
    When did I start fading a-way?
    When did I start fading a-way, Lawd, Lawd?
    When did I start fading a-way?

    When did you start looking through me,
    Instead of sitting down and talking to me?
    Sometimes it’s like you never even knew me;
    When did I start fading a-way?

    When did I start to disappear?
    That’s what it feels like a-round here.
    Don’t say you haven’t noticed it, too, Dear;
    When did I start fading a-way?

    When did I turn into a ghost?
    I used to feel that I could boast
    I was the the one you used to love the most;
    When did I start fading a-way?

    When did I start fading a-way?
    When did I start fading a-way?
    When did I start fading a-way, Sweet Baby?
    When did I start fading a-way?

  5. Walt Wojtanik

    “M” IS FOR MENGEANCE

    Holding a grudge has become an art form,
    and it eats away at all sensibilities.
    Getting the upper hand is an age old
    ritual for habitual hotheads and bonehead.
    Machismo is no way to go when
    all it gets you is a fat lip and
    wounded pride. And you can’t hide from
    the conscience that doesn’t know
    when to shut up. Besides, it’s better if you
    remain removed from the retribution.
    Let your fingers do the talking,
    Dial “M” for Mengeance.
    It’s a guy thing.

  6. taylor graham

    A HOUSEHOLD TALE

    “It was meant,” we say, when
    the big bowling ball knocks down
    our better plans, and on a
    common Wednesday, we’re driving
    into unknown territory,
    we don’t know what off-ramp or
    where to go from there, but somehow
    we end up at the address. And
    even though the offered princess
    is a monster (in this case, an impossible
    puppy who bit the firstborn
    of the first couple who ventured
    to take her home) well,
    you’ve heard the story before,
    it’s in all the fairy- and cautionary
    tales. A mischief sneaks
    through your door, past good sense,
    so better judgment gives way
    to “it was meant to be.” This is how
    she came here. See the scars
    on my wrist. Listen how I call her
    name, and at last she puts
    her teeth away, remembering
    a month of instruction, and licks
    my hand instead. Look in the deep
    brown of her puppy-eyes
    that read my mind like a mystery.
    “It was meant to be.”

    1. AC Leming

      Taylor,

      I have two of those myself! You made me both smile and sniffle.

      My Weim is 14 and blind & deaf and only gets excited when the glucoseome treats are in the offering. The German Short Hair is almost 10 and still gets called “Mr Prancy-Pants,” despite his spinal stenosis.

      ac

  7. MiskMask

    ON WINGS OF EAGLES

    You stand on the shore, looking east
    I stand on the shore, looking west
    I search the sea for your touch I adore
    Send me your love on wings so light

    Warm waves caress your toes with kisses
    Iced waves slice my toes with searing wishes
    Heartache, heartbreak, steadfast, be brave
    Send me your love on wings so light

    Think of me when you see the moon, think
    of me when it rises round from the sea
    Touch my thoughts; you are a part of me
    Send me your love on wings so light

    Poetic Form: Modified Kyrielle

  8. uneven steven

    The kid from the cat in the hat in therapy

    God damn cat! After that first taste
    it was cake on a rake
    my childhood in that little house
    balanced above me – dropping
    away, always falling
    you with that stupid grin
    and me on my knees, hands
    reaching, grasping
    my world collapsing, crumpled in a corner
    just like you knew it would.
    I never told and I don’t think Sis did –
    we hardly ever spoke after that –
    thing 1s and thing 2s,
    could’ves and would’ves,
    all of our dreams
    in pieces,
    everything scattered –
    everything swept away
    so fast.
    Tell me what would you say,
    what would you do,
    tell me what if that cat
    and his stupid hat
    had come to your house,
    what if he had come looking
    for you?

  9. Earl Parsons

    The Wood, The Dad, and The Buggy

    He hit Lowe’s at the crack of dawn
    Saturday morning ready to go
    Grabbed a buggy from outside the door
    And headed for the decking

    He checked the list on his iPhone
    Posts, planks, beams and brackets
    Should he get treated or composite
    Only so much in his checking

    Treated would be fine for this job
    It would last for a decade or so
    Just had to take good care of it
    Seal it every year or three

    Stick to the list he told himself
    As he started to fill his buggy
    Quick setting concrete, sand and posts
    Oops! Time out for a pee

    Back at the buggy piling it high
    Finally got all the supplies
    How’s he gonna’ get it to the front
    Without spilling half the load

    Made it out with only one casualty
    Old people should learn to move faster
    Loaded up the truck and headed on home
    Only half of it left on the road

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