It’s been a little quiet at Poetic Asides the past week or so–but that’s only because I’ve been getting all my ducks in a row for the 7th Annual Poetic Asides April PAD (Poem-A-Day) Challenge. There is some truly exciting things coming together for this year’s challenge, and I hope to be able to share them all in an official guidelines post tomorrow.
For today’s prompt, write an announcement poem. Either document the announcement of someone else, or share your own announcement. Announcements can be true, fictional, or somewhere in between. Have fun, and look for the April PAD Challenge announcement later this week (hopefully tomorrow).
Here’s my attempt at an Announcement Poem:
“Ash Wednesday”
Last night was pancakes, sausage, and soda pop;
tonight, it’s fruits, vegetables, and water–
only 40 days to go, 40 days left.
*****
Workshop your poetry!
*****
Robert Lee Brewer
Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and giving up soda pop and processed foods for lent. He’s the author of Solving the World’s Problems and editor of Poet’s Market. He’ll be a featured reader at Poetry Hickory (NC) on March 11 and at the Austin International Poetry Festival April 3-6. Read some of his recent poems here, a recent interview here, and check out his remix challenge here. Also, follow Robert on Twitter @robertleebrewer.
*****
Find more poetic posts here:
- Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 256.
- Pamela Klein: Poet Interview.
- Winners of the 2013 November PAD Chapbook Challenge Announced!
Title: A triolet poem announcement poem for when my father dies and we have a meeting for his funeral.
He won’t be back, he won’t be with us anymore,
father just died, and left us nothing.
Though we never knew him, we are still sore,
He won’t be back, he won’t be with us anymore.
We need someone to serve, someone to watch the door,
someone to help when the people start coming.
He won’t be back, he won’t be with us anymore.
father just died, and left us nothing.
I left a piece of my heart with the ocean, lost myself in its endless motions. Stretching as far as my eyes can see how can something so vast relate to something as infinite as me? As the frothy waves caress my feet i feel secrets and mysteries sing to me from the deep. soothing and calm full of wonder and promise giving life and inspiring sonnets, giving birth to adventurers and artists. the sea in storm is beautiful and reckless an awe inspiring tempest . So much of me reflected in subtle blues and greens, it runs through my veins it whispers we are the same.
Live a life steeped in meaning, am i awake or am i still dreaming? Every second teeming with feeling, souls collide sending me reeling. Each human you meet give them all of you from your head to your feet. Your demons may taunt you, your devils may haunt you but keep in mind your time is fleeting everyday your time receding. So embrace each day with who you can, give all of you to your fellow man. Put it all forth hold nothing back. a simple kiss can explode from within blinding inside and out with a soul searing hiss, whispered words followed by subtle fingertips. What you give to others is an extension of your own bliss
we are seeds, if i nurture you will you grow with me? who we are is who we need to be. Back, before, behind, between, beyond. Seen, unseen, ethereal, infantile. Old mens stories, babies smiles. A warriors brow, a ladies elegance. We are human ancient intelligence. Time, space, the human interface. Who are we but stardust misplaced? We create, we shape, with every thought, action, opinion we make. You can be the one to cause others to wake. Nurture, foster, care,glow. Give a piece of your heart plant it in everyone you know. Blossom let your colors show. If you shelter a seed it will soon grow, spreading to others then everyone they know. If you plant seeds that nurture the world, imagine how the earths beauty could unfurl. Imagine a world full of flowers blooming with creativity, imagination, and power. Thoughts give birth to ideas you create a reaction.Losers, freaks, hippies, geeks ,nobodies, so called human errors. The strong control the world but it belongs to the meek. millions and billions of us walk the earth half awake awaiting rebirth. Little tiny seeds sewn into you. A soul, a seed, a heart, a hearth.Love others not because you have to, only because you would be truly glad to. Forever changing the world with the seeds we sew,hearts for humans watch it grow
Door Post
Post on my door
In seven languages
what context is this?
I am not a Catholic
Church and this is
Not from Martin Luther
This is the sale on
the county courthouse
steps of all my dream
No more life, no more
home – rooted up and
booted out. Bereft
Dog
This morning at the market I bought a fuzzy dog
But at dinner it seems like I bought a noisy hog
At nighttime it seems like I bought a wooden log
Yet in the morning, he turns back into a fuzzy dog.
(I wanted to write something really simple this time)
Confession
I am not just Irish, not just my father’s daughter,
And I thought I was.
Growing up in ignorance.
I remember my father’s words.
“Slavery…” he’d say. Our family wasn’t even here.
I’d say nothing. But I’d think, “Yeah, I like that.”
We were in Ireland enslaved or starving.
Not heroic or glamorous, I know.
Still a less barbaric truth to be sure.
So… “Yeah, okay. My family wasn’t even here.”
My family wasn’t even here.
And how fascinating I find genealogy. Anyone’s.
I don’t know a lot,
But I know that I am many people’s choices.
The result of suffering and of love.
And I know that I am Irish.
That I wish I’d met my grandparents.
Oh what a different world…
Oh how interestingly time goes by.
How insignificant we are and yet essential for the next.
I learned my mom is English, Dutch, but wait…
Dad would say, “Slavery?” I pause. Because my family was here.
“But Dad,” MY family was here.
Mom’s family was here.
And I am the result of that.
The result of land treaties with the Native Americans.
The result of histories of greed and abuse.
I am from the slave owner, and no he wasn’t Irish.
And I am not just Irish.
I am White American
A product of so many choices.
A history with roots in blood.
I’ve learned.
Finally a person worth writing down.
Born on the plantation of a grandfather—
Sovereign Truth
But I am not of her.
And Dad, the history of me is not a Hallmark card.
Previews
He slips an arm around her shoulders
and pulls her to him.
She nestles against his chest
and steals a sideways glance at him.
Silence settles about them
as the lights are dimmed to darkness
and heavy crimson drapes are drawn
for coming attractions.
Severing ties with you is going to be hard
you promised to help me get skinny
instead I’m a tired lump of lard
you enticed me with comfort
in my darkest of hours
you’re very alluring
with your addictive evil powers
I smell like a ogre
I look like a troll
being friends with you
has taken a toll
I used to sing like a sparrow
carrying every note
now when I open my mouth
there’s a frog jammed in my throat
my teeth are stained
my sense of smell is gone
I can’t taste a thing
that I feast upon
my skin was rosy
my eyes had passion
now my hue is gray
my sparkle is ashen
It’s over with you I’m totally done
no longer your slave my freedom won
I’m asking others to walk beside me
yet stay out of my way
I might get a little crazy
I’m quitting smoking today
I’m going to be an “Apple”,
a day, everyday,
At the end of August,
you will arrive,
Welcome little one,
Congratulations new mom,
And I will be,
Granny Smith,
Your Apple
Snow Melt
snow melt warm spell sun shines on weary town
dog walks sniffs at ground story to behold
new light new hope promises to be made
ground waits for seed and summer growth
greening of memories
WOMAN
I’m just letting you know
our son-in-law is picking me up
I’m done with your
threatening body position
blocking the door
and that please-slap-me
smile on your face.
Thats right, go back upstairs
to hide. It won’t just be a
Woman in the house.
Wonderfully powerful 🙂
An Eagle, New
Hear ye, Hear ye, don’t you know,
you’ve been invited, to the show.
Our Boy Scout, true, who worked so long,
will be presented, to the throng.
We’ll gather yonder and celebrate.
If you’re not there, it will devastate.
So bring your friends and meet at three,
he earned his Eagle, for all to see.
HEARLD
“Hark!” the snowbound jonquils sing,
“Won’t be long before it’s spring.”
OOOPS – SPEL-CZECH…
My lysdexia is showing…
Should be:
HERALD
: |
g
mmmmpfff! Loved it, both takes.
Red Flags
Red skies in
morning eyes…
our fingers felt them first,
when we kept from lingering
because touch had gone cold,
and when you were pulling away
from mine running through your hair,
or when our missed calls and voicemails
sounded like ripping/tearing of sown fabric;
we should have heard them against the wind,
but we waited till eastern horizen was fullly – Red,
to see we were not meant to be beneath these eyes.
I love this; calls to mind “red sky at morning.”
So evocative–I love this.
Prelude
Bare limbs, black
abut sky
silent, still
until
palest pinks join in,
adagio, poco a poco,
accelerando,
stringendo,
lightening,
brightening
the perfect proem –
a prelude to sunrise:
Twilight heralds Dawn
PSC/2014
“New Governmental Job Posting”
Bigger’s not better, since tighter the sweater,
as well as the jeans at the waist.
The calories passing the lips are amassing,
’cause most only run when they’re chaste!
Burgers are fatter and the french fries’ batter
are adding much more to us all.
Yesterday’s 2X, because we’re all health wrecks,
happens to be today’s small.
As such it is clear, that, for all we hold dear,
that obesity’s virgin’s ephemeral.
Therefore we must choose one to help us lose:
A Bariatric Surgeon-General!
Spring’s Slow Coil
Bring the rain
Bring the waterfall
Bring the BANG, the seasonal BOOM!
Turn that dial
Change the channel
In our hearts
We’ve already made bloom
Turn the corner
Hit the gas
We’ll ditch winter’s bug
Be free at last
From December’s noose
Her dreary cast
Spring’s a slowww coil
Somebody please cut her loose!
So ready for spring.
The Little Mother
She lay besides her baby sister
and watched her sleep.
So tender, so adorable.
She remembered the first time she saw her
so preciously tucked
into her mother’s arms.
And now two weeks gone by,
the baby meant the world to her.
When she felt the tiny hands
so delicately twined around her thumb,
being just three years apart
felt like a lot longer.
As if being her protector
her little mother.
And then one day,
the baby gave her the most precious gift.
It made her squeal-
‘Mom! Dad! She smiled at me!! She smiled at me!!’
This is sweet. It touches my heart.
April’s Feast
Hear ye, hear ye!
Come one, come all!
To the two thousand fourteen
April PAD poem-a-day
Challenge!
Calling all poets!
And all who dare
Participate in this
Grand poet feasting!
Take a prompt a day!
Gobble it to pieces!
Pen your heart out!
Come hungry!
Come ready to eat!
And come, to feast!
(At writersdigest.com poetic asides blog. Beginning April 1, 2014).
The prefect subject for today. Nicely done.
News Report
More things happened today.
Somewhere, someone
did something important.
Someone wrote about it
and a man and women talked
for three minutes on the topic
on the screen of my TV.
They think I should know
what they think,
and what others think
about the important person
and his important problem.
I’m just waiting for Jeopardy.
Teehee!
brilliant.
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I’m looking forward to being inspired in a PAD way this April!
Here’s my announcement:
http://wordrustling.wordpress.com/2014/03/05/to-the-gate-keepers-of-dreams/
Smiles and happy writing to all!
Our New World
Leaving work I get the call,
she says she has some news.
From her sweet voice and southern drawl
come other subtle cues.
My thought process was slow at best
while I listen to her say,
she had run some tests and her best guess
is she is pregnant today.
The news had struck a couple chords
inside me that conflict.
How can we make this possible,
when we are far from rich?
But happiness was also there
along side fear and doubt.
Could we really do this,
and make this thing work out?
She waits for me, and my response
to what she had just said.
I think about how it will be
when someone calls me dad.
Truth be told, the news was such
that gave me great great joy.
I began to think of different things
like if it’s girl or boy.
Excitement grew within my soul
each day towards her birth.
As my wife grew from feeding two,
I too had gained some girth.
Ultrasounds and other tests
all along the way.
The baby’s breached, cesarean,
we choose our special day.
That day is here! We’re in the room,
our daughter soon will come.
She comes out backwards, the doctor said,
“my dear you’ve birthed a bum.”
She’s lifted up for our first view,
and what a sight to see.
It’s our little girl, our new world,
made from my wife and me.
As it relates to important dates,
this one, it is the best.
But everyday with Rebecca Renee
proves just how much we’re blessed.
Babies are such a gift…I love the way you bring the inner emotional facet of this journey!
You’ve Been Warned
BEWARE OF CAT,
the sign said.
And I’m thinking, like,
an attack cat. Right.
What a joke.
What’s he got for himself,
a tiger or something?
More like some little kitty
that soaks up the sun
and sleeps better than
I do.
So, it’s like I’m going
around back by the pool,
back to the glass
doors, like, the dark
is better for my
line of work, like.
Now, I’ve picked the lock,
and like, with knowing
the alarm code and all,
like, I’m stepping through
the door—and like,
I am feeling it but good!
I hear the sound,
and all at once like,
I turn to see
these two yellow eyes
against pure black.
Now, I’m like thinking back—
like, man that pool fence
is like, HIGH!
And like, who needs
an electrified pool fence
anyway?
Then I’m thinking like,
anyone dumb enough
to ignore the sign,
and the fence,
and the alarm—
And I’m thinking
OH SNAP!
It’s like, that’s no tiger,
like, that’s a
panther!
Nice Kitty…
(c) Copyright Ellen Evans – 2014
[3.5.14 an “announcement” poem for PA]
Great fun! 🙂
Thx. ;))
What Works
I remember why I don’t write all day.
I work myself into a stupor.
I turn into a lazy lunk.
I just want to sit and eat,
let everything else slide.
Some writers can sit.
I need to mix
feet-work with
seat work.
Now!
Amen, and amen.
REVEILLE
Wake up, it’s almost daylight.
Wake up before you forget your dream.
Wake up to the rhythm of dog-tail wagging.
Wake up, the first sparrow’s singing morning.
Wake up to French roast with a hint of hazelnut.
Wake up, there’s a poetry prompt on the web.
Wake up and hear the wild geese calling.
Wake up and make a meander-trail through dew.
Wake up like a seasonal creek after rain.
Wake up and count your sheep, your blessings.
Wake up! What will you do with this day?
Exactly. Thx
Just checking in to see who is still poeming here. And this reminded me that I should have made time all along. I’ll be back in April
Overhead Announcement
by Arash
When I display my poetry
To their empty and prodding eyes,
They say there’s no soul in your lines,
They say there’s no voice in your verse,
They say all they see is mostly
Words gathered by glamor and guise,
And sense too, though it’s most perverse,
As if it means all and yet naught:
Murmurs, cries, merry and distraught,
Like in a loud crowded market,
Rhythm and rhyme displayed and bought,
Overhead announcement unheard.
Le Printemps
Her eyes hold green light
of spring grass and sea glass;
she is made ready.
Tres bien Madame!
Merci. 🙂
“The Results of the Beauty Pageant ”
(Or, “Though she thought she’d won, Miss Perception was only runner up.”)
In pursuit of fine beauty, were invited all cuties,
to come for a fierce competition:
To enroll in a pageant
ff divergent talents,
from poise to poetic rendition.
From quite far they assembled (such to make the knees tremble!),
as arrived they from disparate places.
from Hawaii to Maine,
and from seacoast to plain,
representing among them all races!
From all over they came, seeking fortune and fame,
the hundreds of misses who prayed,
to take home first prize
with one batting of eyes,
and their bountiful futures be made.
But of all of the masses, just a handful of lasses,
were passed in the first round of choosing.
Miss Taken, selected,
amidst many rejected,
along with the naughty Miss Using!
The next of the cuties, chosen for beauty,
aas the quite enigmatic Miss Terious.
The luvlie Miss Spelled
was selected as well,
as the judging went on fast and serious.
Miss Understood handled pressure real good,
and impressed all of those who did see her.
But stealing the hearts,
with her villainous smarts,
was the high-spirited Miss Demeanor.
The juggling tricks with a set of five bricks,
killed a bystander watching Miss Handled,
while Miss Represented
was truly resented,
by the judges with whom she had ‘scandaled’!
Increasing the tension was Miss Apprehension,
who was miserable when she performed.
And though she was pretty,
and moderately witty,
she knew less than poor Miss Informed!
Miss Managed was lousy, Miss Givings too mousy,
Miss Trusted was busted, as well.
She had collided
with an errant Miss Guided,
and both of them tragically fell.
Miss Construed was imbued with too much attitude,
when she lost, well, her manner was scorchin’.
The mendacious Miss Leading,
was caught out while cheating,
as was her accountant, Miss Fortune.
On a flute, gold inlaid, a shrill piece by Miss Played,
While Miss Laid never made the select- no!:
she was found with a judge
and a basket of fudge
in what’s known as “flagrante delecto”!
Much interest was piqued by the covert Miss Tique,
as the final ladies were assessed.
Hasty conference was held,
as an eager crowd yelled:
“So which, after all, was the best?”
They had them all pass, watching footwork and sass,
as the judges pursued their decision.
The blocks for the winners
were wheeled in on spinners,
and placed in ascending position.
The ladies reviewed, were then on the stage queued,
to learn who had won to each station.
But the first prize and crown
were being fenced downtown
by the wicked Miss Appropriation!!
This.Is.WONDERFUL.
Thank you so much for this clever, delightful read! 🙂
Thank you so much! It was definitely one of those things you write, and find yourself chuckling while doing so.
Clever! A fun read.
awesome, and contest/prize deserving also !!!
Considering all the amazing work people are putting out here, that is a very kind thing to say- many thanks for that!
Cue the Hallelujahs,
the fear nots and ta-das.
Hold your opinions
and your applause.
Break out the trumpets and
let the angels do their thing.
Signal the sirens:
we’re ready for spring.
.
Amen De! Bring it!
Proclamations of Blue
The sky is falling! The sky is falling!
some Little bird claims,
and sure enough when we slosh
our tired feet about, we can see
ourselves in indigo cloud puddles.
Get your galoshes, Love. We’re going
for a sky walk, and for once I am going
to stay up late enough to singe
my toes on a star. From afar, mid
-night looks like a valley all her own,
swathed in misty moonlight and
sapphire stone. Heavens
spilled to feet, we’ll treat ourselves
to this cobalt far-flung feast for the eyes.
Surprise!
Tastes like Chicken.
.
Love this. Metaphor, metaphor, and the ultimate cheesy line, which puts the seal on the metaphor of the far-flung feast for the eyes.
On Friday, October 13th,
we will hold
a coming back
to life party
for Marty Gold
at Cecil’s Cryogenics,
1313 Miracle Thaw Road.
Bring jackets . . . .unless.
Made me smile a lot 🙂
Beautiful. I can see this and feel the happiness.
Response to Hear Ye, Hear Ye
Warmer Days
citrus blossoms open
soft white wonders wake
to warm a winter world
announce with vivid fragrance
our coldest days
have nearly ended
announce with scented splendor
the bold bright fruit to follow
when flowers fall
Love this. Waiting to see this happen.
Thanks =-)
A telegram from Heaven
I am fine.
Heaven is sublime.
Please don’t cry.
Love, just pray.
When you call my name, I hear.
Tears disrupt the link.
Elegant, cute, and thought-provoking in an economy of words. Nicely done.
Ineptitude
You have to take the bullhorn by the tail,
look out across assembled crowds that swell
and jostle, runners waiting for a bell
or shot to sound, adjust your posture well,
make still your thumping heart—you must not quell
to do your duty; lesser men might fail,
but they let fear infuse their thoughts pell-mell.
You are not them; you have tidbits to tell,
announcements of import, export, resale.
You clear your throat, “Ahem!” You did that well.
They lift their eyes to you, expectant, frail
from waiting for the news you’ve come to tell.
You feel the power like some holy grail;
they’re listening, impatient as a snail
must feel forever followed by his trail,
silver and shining like a comet’s tail.
“Get on with it!” they mutter. “What the hell!”
They’re surly, time is turning on you. Bail!
But you are brave and start to speak, but fail
to turn the bull horn on. Why must they yell?
“Impatient as a snail?” Love this. I can see it happening.
Tall, Round Tale
“The world is flat,” said the Earthly Gazette.
Imagine the cruisers were quite upset.
Perplexed, really, that their round trip round-
the-world would merely result in a refund in around
seven to ten business days, minus the flight
to get to the port. Imagine the sources sought out
for that story, to confirm the truth, round and round
the debates, the reporters sent out to be first on the ground.
But you know it just didn’t seem right, the sight, the thought, despite
conclusive Facebook posts, tweets, the television news report,
so Neil stepped foot on that ball and proclaimed he found
nine floating balls in space, including one wound to the sun.
Made me smile. Says so much about us.
Surprise!
Grins abound
from face to face
and feet dance
as if tiptoeing on sun rays.
Whispered words
mix with looks and giggles
until finally feeling self-conscious
you ask, “what’s up?”
This poem makes me want to grin. It has a delicacy and leaves me happy.
SPRING IS OUT THERE SOMEWHERE
Beneath the frozen lawn,
the bulbs long to arise.
The buds await spring’s dawn
to clean out sleepy eyes.
And it will be here soon,
those weather folks predict.
We’ll sing a joyful tune
when winter’s butt is kicked.
© Susan Schoeffield
Love this. Not only will we sing a joyful tune, we’re going to have a full blast party! 🙂 Sorry. This winter…
Another take on Spring —-
Spring has announced
that children can
come out and play,
But Jack Frost
is still sulking
And can’t see
past his nose
Love this one too. Tell Jack Frost his time is up.
Morning Announcement
Morning announcement
Of tweets and chirps
I’m alive—
Elegantly beautiful.
Agreed/1
BELIEVE IT WHEN YOU SEE IT
As spring
is announcing
that it is coming soon,
I remain skeptical while March
shivers.
Love this. I’m skeptical too.
The Curmudgeon’s Weather Report
When I was a kid, we didn’t get out of school for snow.
Sometimes we had drifts all the way up to my waist—
and I’m talking Alabama—but we got on that big yellow
bus and rode it to school, sliding all the way.
Black ice? We didn’t have black ice back then. Never
ever heard of it ‘til lately. To tell the truth, look up close
and it’s the same color as the other ice; it’s the road
that are black. They just told us to take it steady
and don’t slam on your brakes. All this nonsense
of two-hour delays and early release, kids too soft
to stand outside waiting for the bus in the cold—
no wonder they can’t go off to college without
their mommies and their blankies. Give them coats
and gloves and hot cocoa. Make them do jumping jacks.
Today’s weather report: It’s still winter. It’s still cold.
Deal with it.
Love it! Oh so true!
Ah! Spot on, this!
Bravo! I’ve been wondering the same things.
The End of Youth
It is so proclaimed that
in concert with the claims
of gravity and the stacking
of years – finally youth
has officially closed
No return engagement
shall be scheduled
any time soon
Love this, especially “claims of gravity.”
Love this,. Can relate to the “no return engagement shall be scheduled.” There are certainly parts I don’t want rescheduled.
Very Nice! I especially like your line, “No return engagement.”
For some reason this reminded me of my favorite announcement verse Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band:
“It was twenty years ago today
Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play
They’ve been going in and out of style
But they’re guaranteed to raise a smile
So may I introduce to you
The act you’ve known for all these years
Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.”
TBA Baby
Arrived just as was planned
Rosebud lips and strong shoulders
Newly minted love
******
Congratulations to S.e Ingraham on the birth of her grandson
who joins his two older brothers and a host of other loving arms.
Hear Ye Hear Ye
The time has come trappings
to be dropped
as cages in cool clear water
waiting patiently bobbing
under the waves
for all to swim together
and be lifted as one into
the sparkling sun connected
laughing, and spilled onto
the white shores of family
This poem, itself, sparkles. Wonderful!
I love this, and “TBA Baby”, too.