Editors Blog

Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 240

For this week’s prompt, take the phrase “If You (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem. Possible titles might include: “If You Dare,” “If You Read Poetry,” “If Your Friends Jump,” etc.

Here’s my attempt at an “If You (blank)” poem:

“If You’re Alone in the Woods With a Tree”

And it doesn’t make a sound,
will anyone believe you?

If you answer the phone
and only find silence,

there’s no way to say,
“I agree completely.”

Maybe it’s the tree
or a complacent bush.

Maybe it’s your self-doubt
coming back to haunt you.

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Robert Lee Brewer

Robert Lee Brewer

Robert Lee Brewer is an editor for the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53), a collection of poems. He’s married to the poet Tammy Foster Brewer, who helps him keep track of their five little poets (four boys and one princess). Follow him on Twitter @robertleebrewer.

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221 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 240

  1. veronica_gurlie

    If you want to keep my interest,
    you will need clear skies in your eyes,
    have music coming from your smile,
    a little movement in your mind.
    You’re will need to be flexible,
    so f’n hot, and not just when you made yourself proud.
    Not just when you’re taking a bow or just real high,
    like a daydream on a cloud.

    1. veronica_gurlie

      REWRITE. I trimmed it down a bit.

      If you want to keep my interest,
      you will need clear skies in your eyes,
      have music coming from your smile,
      a little movement in your mind.
      You will need to be fly and not just when you’re proud.
      Not just when you’re taking a bow, a little high,
      like a daydream on a cloud.

  2. Poet Ariel

    If You Want Silence

    Fill my heart with ketamine. Make the cut deliberate & deep;
    round the cusp of the scalpel between the true ribs

    the fourth and the fifth. Force the gap even
    if it means breaking cartilage on the side of the road.

    In the right atrium, take a slice and slide the tubing in.
    Drain it down a grate; let the dogs drink it.

    Then take spun cotton and stuff until no dent shows;
    don’t sew it close – I’ll need to repack it again.

    And while I lie there, machines performing my breathing,
    scalp my red hair, excavate the temporal lobe, occipital lobe.

    I won’t have any use for words.

    Ariel
    Oct 11, 2013

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