Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 364

For today’s prompt, write a “let the good times roll” poem. I’ll allow each poet to put the emPHAsis where they wish in that phrase. Focus on the “good times” or play around with the concept of “rolling.” However you roll, I’m cool with it.


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Here’s my attempt at a Let the Good Times Roll poem:

“Carefree (or -less)”

There are times I don’t look
before I leap or cross the road
or room or what-have-you.
There are times I don’t look
or finish reading the book,
because I don’t care to know.
There are times I don’t look
before I leap or cross the road.


Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He’s often very cautious–except when he’s not.

Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.


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94 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 364

  1. qbit

    Unsuccessful Idioms

    The peanut doesn’t fall too far from the elephant.
    You catch more skunks with baloney than with vinegar.

    Let the bad times roil,
    Let the paper times fold,
    Let the wire times coil,
    Let the banished times hold.

    Don’t look a gift fish in the eye.
    The early wight gets the book.

    Time flies like a bunion,
    Parrots weep like precision,
    Mold creeps like a grunion,
    Beets wild like unreason.

    Spare the reed, spoil the saxophone.
    What goes around becomes round.

    Add insult to perjury,
    Add twilight to slippery,
    Add winsome to frippery,
    Add toothsome to penury.

    A fool and her money are soon partied.
    Don’t count your moles before they burrow.

    Don’t cry over spilt persimmons,
    Don’t fret over cut whiskers,
    Don’t burn over hot permissions,
    And don’t explain over sharp scissors…

    1. ppfautsch24

      Let It Roll
      Rolling in the deep blue and with the tide.
      I find myself in the depths of trying to figure
      You out and the love you wouldn’t let roll off
      Your heart.
      By Pamelap

  2. artifiswords


    Though I’ve been
    To New Orleans
    A couple times
    I’ve never been
    To Mardi Gras…
    That would seem
    Like something
    For a “bucket list”…
    But though I agree
    With the philosophy
    Laissez les bons temps rouler
    I know there are other
    And for me…better ways
    To let the good times roll…
    Perhaps some day I’ll go
    But it’s still not on my list…
    I can enjoy NOLA on any day
    More than a city…it’s a state of mind

    © 2016 Robert Mihaly

    Posted also to:

  3. Karen

    Tina Turner singing
    legs perpetual motion
    her soulful voice ringing
    with heartfelt emotion

    “rollin down the river”
    Up my spine a quiver
    I’m on my feet movin
    Proud Mary’s got me groovin

  4. grcran

    The Good Part

    “Let them leave you up in the air
    Let them brush your rock and roll hair
    Let the good times roll” Ric Ocasek of The Cars

    To roll to rock the scene, demean. Be droll.
    Droller. Let the thunder roller troll. Out on parole.
    Patrolling who knows where. Atolls, black holes.
    Black donut holes cajoled from air. To have and
    Two whole unholy leaders litre-ing fine words.
    Absurd. Won’t price control this salad bowl.
    Make mine Swedish spinach casserole.
    With sides of Rhodish radish escarole. The exit poll.
    Gone south pole. Acclaim the game. Ace in the scroll
    trumps queen of clubs. Or not. Knot what you knoll.
    But who. Who’s in control. Go on. Don’t pigeonhole.
    Extol. Let them dawn hilarious goodtime roles.
    (Whatever else it has, U. S. got soul)

    gpr crane

  5. Pwriter10


    Is it enough that one rain drop fell?
    There had been a drought, after all.
    And something must be better
    than absence.

    But one taste on a red velvet petal
    is really not enough
    to keep a bloom.

    You would rather have nothing.
    Instead, it gave you hope.

    And now you must hide from
    all your friends
    because you know it’s contagious.

  6. headintheclouds87

    Lost Summers

    Sat on those sticky car seats
    On sweltering summer day
    With windows rolled right down
    And Mum or Dad’s music blaring,
    (Depending on who was too tired to argue)
    We knew good times lay ahead
    Along this year’s road, riding it care free
    Onward to the holiday highway
    With days of wet hair and sandy toes
    And a sea of dribbling ice cream cones,
    Asking every other second or so
    If we were nearly there yet.

  7. ReathaThomasOakley

    Righteous sisterhood

    In our youthful days
    we called them wienie rollers,
    pious Southern women,
    hair in tight sausage configurations,
    hairnet cased, worn low on holy necks.

    No need to testify or perform acts
    of needless charity, one look,
    one glance was all it took to
    identify the elect, the chosen ones,
    the women with wienie rolls.

  8. Tracy Davidson

    Rolling on Cooper’s Hill

    only in England
    would a group of grinning folk
    chase a rolling cheese
    downhill – risking life and limb
    for something to put on toast

  9. Julieann

    Laissez les bon temps roulez

    Every day is party day in New Orleans
    From Mardi Gras with its costumes and parades
    To the balls and parties
    And all the celebrating in between
    While the sounds of Dixieland Jazz and Zydeco
    Emanate from bars and clubs and second lines
    As they lend their own particular flavor to life
    In the Crescent City
    And weaving its way around and through it all
    Are the spicy flavors
    Of jambalaya and gumbo
    Po’boys and red beans with rice
    Tempered by the sweetness
    Of beignets and pralines
    Bananas Foster and bread pudding
    Let the good times roll!!!!

  10. Walter J Wojtanik


    He sits,
    a solitary man at a table for two.
    Stuck between the moo goo
    and the shrimp fried rice, a nice
    diversion to a horrible day.
    She would go on to say
    things you can never retract
    and shed act as if she were God’s
    gift. As if! He’d get a whiff of the oolong
    and it reminds him of that song
    that she’d sing to drive him crazy.
    He had gotten lazy or he just didn’t care.
    She was rarely ever there!
    He’d stare out the window and watch
    the world stand still. He would kill for an egg roll,
    this solitary man his table for two. Good times.

    (C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

  11. SarahLeaSales

    Play-Doh Fun

    A good time is all rolled up
    in variety of color and cup—
    purple spaghetti with orange meatballs,
    kangaroo crackers,
    and stickies for the wall;

    blueberries that are red,
    raspberries that are blue,
    cookie cutters that are borrowed,
    and peas like pearls in a queue;

    elephants with cattails,
    horses with ponytails,
    and fork work like inverted Braille;

    neon green hamburgers and hot pink hotdogs
    reshaped into swirly planets with rings,
    and stripes mixed with polka dots;

    shapeless shapes,
    smileys from pencil pokes,
    and handprints stained with newsprint;

    bows for Minnie Mouse,
    plugs for her ears,
    and beanbag chairs for the dollhouse;

    more bows for Minnie,
    something for the bellybutton,
    and toes with royal jelly for din-dinny;

    it’s all in fun,
    only to be stretched and folded,
    and put away again.

  12. Sara McNulty

    Good Times Roll

    Come on in to Good Times Roll.
    If there is a roll you have a hankering
    for, we will have that one and more.
    Kaiser, onion, dinner, pumpernickel,
    or rye, poppyseed, sesame, or seedless.
    Why, you name a size–large, small,
    mini, or hero for those with big
    eyes–we aim to satisfy every customer,
    except for wise guys asking
    for jelly rolls, Tootsie Rolls,
    Swiss Rolls, or rock ‘n roll. Try
    another shop. We are all about
    bread at Good Times Roll. Stop in,
    ask for Pop.

  13. uvr

    Let the good times roll


    the eggshell-thin veneer
    of dread crack into life’s bowl


    white of fear to mix
    with the yellow of hope
    Give it a


    whisk to blend in flour of
    courage, butter-soft compassion
    Put in two


    the sugar of happiness
    bake in the furnace of rage
    When done


    in a feathery
    powder of sweetness

    Devour whole.

  14. Beth Henary Watson

    Those times were good
    And they splashed
    Like water up from
    A little boy’s swimming pool,
    Tiny, happy, ephemeral droplets
    Rolling in slow motion
    Through June and July, where
    Very likely they kept the trees alive
    So the leaves could fall
    And a slightly older boy
    could pick up pecans.

  15. deringer1


    Sometimes it may seem that bad is good
    when evil triumphs in our world.
    But goodness rolls forever,
    through every wicked scheme–
    this we must believe
    that in the end
    good will win,

  16. De Jackson

    dragon roll

    the sky’s a hot mess
    of wasabi origami cloud
    cover and white

    tuck in, begin
    the free of falling,
    the flight of calling
    strange. we’re scaled,

    ageless and

    we’ve got a feel
    for the rhythm; for
    -gotten how to rhyme.

    but they don’t teach us
    how to keep on going
    or how to color inside
    the lines; just how


    good times.


  17. tripoet

    Lovie Austin
    (1887–1972) was an American Chicago-based bandleader,
    session musician (piano), composer, singer, and arranger
    during the 1920s classic blues era. Yes, Lovie be a woman!

    She let the good times
    roll right off the tops
    of her finger tips. Oh my
    could those slender hands stir
    up a number that could shake
    rattle and stomp. Her music did swim,
    pine, dance. Leave those young ‘uns
    swooping into a trance. Nothing could
    jar them loose except, The Great

  18. taylor graham


    She talks about the big old barn
    plastered inside and out with ancient posters.
    The Pony Express stopped there,
    and the stagecoach. How she loved to loiter
    inhaling the dust of slanting sunbeams
    in the barn-slat dark. All gone now.
    They tore those broadsides down as trash.
    She doesn’t recognize Main Street anymore,
    once a speed-bump on the two-lane highway
    that ran clear across the country.
    The town’s bypassed now, of course.
    Even celebrations aren’t the same
    as when everybody turned out dressed
    as pioneers, every shop fetched out like olden-
    times, to watch the buckboards and buggies,
    eight-hitch prairie-schooners roll into town –
    you could hear thunder coming down
    off the mountain – the heft of Percheron
    hooves on pavement – long before you could
    see horses rounding the corner, aimed
    right at you. Old West revivified.
    How things change, she says, in one brief
    lifetime. People in shorts and tanktops
    pause on the sidewalk now to see
    the curiosity, horses on Main Street, a guy
    in buckskins at the reins, a grin
    under his Stetson hat. Fewer wagons
    than in years gone by. But still, what a parade!
    Just one of those giant horses – It takes
    me back, she says. On creaky wheels,
    let those good old times roll!

  19. Nancy Posey

    Week One. Senior English

    They come to me with mixed messages embedded already:
    The senior year is supposed to be the most fun.
    They need to get involved in everything
    that looks good on transcripts.
    They want to make all A’s.
    They don’t want me to assign homework.
    They’re taking all hard courses (they look good)
    but they don’t really like to read. Or write.
    They can’t wait to go to college,
    to be on their own,
    but no, they didn’t read the letter
    sent by the school that told them—
    not their parents—where to get their books.
    The big game is this weekend (It’s also next weekend.
    And the one after. And the one after.)
    so if I could cut them a little slack.
    They are preprogrammed to ask
    How long does it have to be?
    Is this for a grade?
    Does spelling count?
    They think I don’t see the cell phone
    they are business fingering
    in their laps, just six feet from me.
    I don’t’ tell them my secret either:
    This will be a fun year. College, however,
    will be so much better they’ll think back
    and laugh at their former eighteen-year-old selves
    who believed everything and nothing they were told.

  20. Arash

    The Kohls

    by Arash

    Let’s put our heart and soul
    In carefree cruise control
    Now let’s go for a stroll
    Down this manicured knoll
    Oh their tottering foal…
    Look how beautiful!
    We must have reached the Kohls
    I hear their rock and roll
    See salad in the bowl
    Patties on the charcoal
    Let’s kiss and pay the toll
    So here’s our casserole
    To make your table whole
    Oh let the good times roll!

  21. writinglife16


    My idea
    of letting the good times roll
    is vastly different
    from my cat Diesel’s.
    On a sunny afternoon
    Diesel batted a ball across the yard.
    He attacked it
    with such abandon.
    Inspired by him,
    I got the beach ball out.
    I blew it up,
    huffing and puffing.
    Now, I was ready to play.
    Stepping on the lawn
    I swayed and fell over
    landing on the beach ball
    which deflated with a loud hiss.
    I lay there as Diesel
    rolled his ball over my body.

  22. Anthony94

    When I Asked About Retirement

    Mid-week she puts up her feet
    come six o’clock, the ball game being
    an hour earlier since they’re playing
    in Miami. Prepares to settle in; doesn’t
    believe in snack foods, but admits to turning
    down the lights. Says she can almost crochet
    in the dark and she’s in the middle of yet another
    scarf to donate to the shelter for winter.

    Absolutely has to be doing something or
    she can’t stick it out. Tells me the only
    reason for her mid-week spree is that
    she’s prepared two different entrees for
    the rest of the week, stemmed the green
    beans, roasted a pan of okra, freshened
    the flowers on the bar. Now she’s ready

    to kick back in the only way she knows;
    he’s still out in the fields, there’s still light
    at the windows, but slowly her shoulders slip
    down and she exhales the way they teach at
    yoga on Tuesdays. It’s taken her years to learn
    to actually sit still without looking behind her.
    As a kid she was only allowed an hour to read,
    the rest of the day was work, so she carries
    guilt. But on this night, she’s says she’s breaking

    the mold. Waiting for the first crack of the bat,
    the announcers voice she can enjoy even when
    counting stitches. Says she’ll stay up for the
    whole game, not having to leave the house at
    six anymore to drive to the city. Should have
    the scarf done by the end of the ninth! Now
    that she’s retired she’ll let the good times roll.

  23. Daniel Paicopulos

    Greek Wedding

    There’s magic in a wedding, Big Fat Greek,
    or otherwise. There’s mystery as well,
    to the old folks, no surprise. There’s uncles
    and aunts, cousins distant and close, nieces,
    nephews and yia yia’s, parents and brothers
    the most important of all. Midst the din
    and the joy, just a small touch of madness,
    make no mistake, there’s also great gladness,
    laughter and smiles, the start of life anew,
    abracadabra, now one made from two

  24. Walter J Wojtanik

    Stuck between hard rock and a place
    where music finds its root.
    Foot tapping and the gentle rapping
    against a table top never stops.

    The kids are jumping, Their feet
    are thumping the floor. Windows
    rattling and battling the urge
    to roll every dirge into Top 40.
    Back beats and bass lines found their
    way in their day. Hear the people sing!
    Elvis is dead; Long live the King!

    © Walter J Wojtanik – 2016

    1. Walter J Wojtanik

      Let’s Try that again (That was weird)


      Stuck between hard rock and a place
      where music finds its root.
      Foot tapping and the gentle rapping
      against a table top never stops.
      The kids are jumping, Their feet
      are thumping the floor. Windows
      rattling and battling the urge
      to roll every dirge into Top 40.
      Back beats and bass lines found their
      way in their day. Hear the people sing!
      Elvis is dead; Long live the King!

      © Walter J Wojtanik – 2016


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