Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 181

For this week’s prompt, write a good vs. evil poem. If that doesn’t appeal to your writing sensibilities, then make it a dog vs. cat poem or humanity vs. aliens poem. Pit something against something else.

Here’s my attempt:

“Man vs. Cookies”

Sometimes I avoid the cookies;
other times, I can’t help myself
from playing this diet hookie.
Sometimes I avoid the cookies
like Princess Leiah and wookies–
one not good for the other’s health.
Sometimes I avoid the cookies;
other times, I can’t help myself.

*****

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*****

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145 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 181

  1. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    twelve black cats
    by juanita lewison-snyder

    she sleeps with twelve black cats
    encircling her, a feline coven of
    third eyes reaching far into the
    netherworld to guard her spiritual honor
    from angry ghosts who drink all day
    then rage long into the wee hours,
    dispatching crows to scrounge through
    bones, contentious as they may be.

    later, she will shave her eyebrows
    as she mourns each cat’s death,
    a centuries old tradition whereupon
    a cat reaching their twentieth year
    becomes a witch entrenched with familiars,
    then a hundred years more, reverts
    back to lotus stretch cat form
    forever probing the dark.

    © 2012 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

  2. kolembo

    FROGS THIS SIDE OF THE UNIVERSE!

    Evidently frogs lie in wait,

    And the moon sets on stranger ground,
    Than we will ever imagine,

    Grey landscapes of endless twilight and,
    Shifting sand,

    Shadows that congeal into shapeless forms,
    Gliding over dank walls,

    Flowing into dimly lit caverns,
    Filled with hunched figures,

    Hundreds of them,
    Four limbed slugs captured eons ago,

    Growing wings and emerging from sacs,

    Peering into neon and,
    Farting occasionally,

    Stubby limbs chained to,
    Grimey floors,

    Tubes running into foreheads,
    Ruffling DNA,

    Every so often we run into humans,
    Who do not understand,

    That they are only Earthlings,
    This side of the Universe,

    Night flies on computer screens,
    Attracted to the light completely.

    KOLEMBO
    http://kolembo.wordpress.com

  3. Miss R.

    Aaaaaaaand two and a half weeks later, my technical difficulties are over, and I can FINALLY post! Hooray!! 🙂

    Light in Growing Shadows (a villanelle)

    The shadows stealthily grow,
    Creeping close towards me,
    Yet still I feel Light’s glow.

    Tangled seeds the shadows sow,
    And lies spring tall so I can’t see.
    The shadows stealthily grow.

    I feel my spirit growing slow,
    Entangled oh so deeply,
    Yet still I feel Light’s glow.

    The shadows pull me to and fro,
    And I despair of being free.
    The shadows stealthily grow.

    Then Light, with flashing sword in tow,
    Is faced by every poison tree,
    Yet still I feel Light’s glow.

    I praise the One who will overthrow
    Every shadow on earth and sea.
    The shadows stealthily grow,
    Yet still I feel Light’s glow.

  4. martinfilson

    Exit

    J J Perry

    I made a small mistake on him.
    He almost died. He came to me
    in good faith, with trust in my skill
    because his heart was in distress.

    It seemed so right, the decision
    I made. A small mistake. On him
    and his wife the consequence pressed
    For long days in intensive care.

    Through his coma his wife wept as
    we talked. I couldn’t admit that
    I made a “small” mistake. On him
    or anyone. It was too hard.

    When she thanked me for saving his
    life, my facade again gave way
    to despair. I should exit, for
    I made a small mistake on him.

  5. tunesmiff

    THERE IN BLACK AND WHITE
    ———————————————
    Mama’s Uncle Charley,
    Was barely seventeen,
    When three days after Pearl Harbor
    He was a boot-camp-bound Marine.
    There was never any question,
    He did what he knew was right;
    The answer of good or evil,
    Was there in black and white.

    Twenty-nine years later,
    My daddy answered the call;
    While some were sent to Viet Nam,
    He was sent to guard a wall,
    To guard a city cut in two,
    One side day, the other night;
    A city torn asunder,
    All there in black and white.

    It used to be so easy
    To tell the darkness from the light;
    But there’s so much gray in the world today,
    When it should be black and white…
    Yeah, there’s too much gray in the world today,
    When it should be black and white…

    I’m just back from the desert;
    Where it’s one-ten in the shade;
    And it’s hard to tell our friends from foes,
    Or how far off track we’ve strayed.
    I thought we knew which ones were blind,
    And which ones had their sight,
    But out there in that sea of tan,
    Ain’t nothing black and white…

    And it used to be so easy
    To tell the darkness from the light;
    But there’s so much gray in the world today,
    When it should be black and white…
    Yeah, there’s too much gray in the world today,
    What happened to the black and white?

  6. zevd2001

    SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE-revision
    You start at one end at the back
    of the room, work towards the middle,
    then on to the other side,
    and again zig zag, laying the parquet

    playing on side against the other
    returning where you were . . . half way
    resting, letting the tiles settle. We know
    it takes time contemplating how
    the sand and concrete settles its possible

    to tread upon the tiles, lightly. The back and forth
    has to wait, but you can try tapping
    at them, one at a time to get a feel
    if they are solid. Standing at the doorway

    prepare the surface with care.
    After that gently place each one
    from side to the opposite, take the plane
    make sure that everything
    is at the same level . . . you don’t want the inspector
    to discover some error. Think about how
    much fun it will be for
    someone to jump
    up and down. This is real wood,

    if you are lucky, if you work at it
    if you remember not to cut corners
    by the time you leave
    the room all the tiles will be where
    they are supposed to be, and
    everybody will be happy.

    Zev Davis

  7. zevd2001

    SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE
    You start and one end at the back
    of the room, work towards the middle,
    then on to the other side,
    and again zig zag, laying the parquet

    playing on side against the other
    returning where you were . . . half way
    resting, letting the tiles settle. We know
    it takes time contemplating how
    the sand and concrete settles its possible

    to tread upon the tiles, lightly. The back and forth
    has to wait, but you can try tapping
    at them, one at a time to get a feel
    if they are solid. Standing at the doorway

    prepare the surface with care.
    After that gently place each one
    from side to the opposite, take the plane
    make sure that everything
    is at the same level . . . you don’t want the inspector
    to discover some error. Think about how
    much fun it will be for
    someone to jump
    up and down. This is real wood,

    if you are lucky, if you work at it
    if you remember not to cut corners
    by the time you leave
    the room all the tiles will be where
    they are supposed to be, and
    everybody will be happy.

    Zev Davis

  8. Bruce Niedt

    Man vs. Rhinovirus

    The name conjures an image of one-horned beasts
    charging through the bloodstream,
    when actually they look like little pomanders –
    oranges studded all over with cloves
    that my mother used to freshen the air at Christmastime.

    But they are hardly so innocuous, these tiny spheres
    measured in nanometers, one-millionth the size
    of a pinhead, encrusted with protein.
    When they find their way into your nose
    (cooler than the rest of your body, the way they like it)
    they open like piñatas and reveal the surprise:
    their own RNA, forcing your cells to replicate them
    millions and billions of times over.

    All of this is fascinating science,
    but right now it feels like a losing battle,
    and my head is a balloon full of mucus.
    There’s no cure, only the usual palliatives –
    antihistamines, analgesics, antitussives –
    and I prepare for seven days of skirmish
    till the invaders recede and I reclaim myself again.

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