Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 377

Here it is–the last prompt of 2016.

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “An Unsuitable (blank) for (blank),” replace the blanks with a word or phrase, make the new the phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem. Possible titles might include: “An Unsuitable Kiss for the New Year,” “An Unsuitable Tie for the Suit,” “An Unsuitable Parent for the Child.”

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Here’s my attempt at An Unsuitable Blank for Blank poem:

“an unsuitable sound for the first day of vacation”

the alarm i forgot to turn off the previous night.

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Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). And yes, he is actually on vacation today. Yay!

Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.

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61 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 377

  1. geraldbarr

    Dark Days

    The days are darker,
    shorter, colder,
    the bitter chill cuts
    to the bone.

    I shiver in a corner of
    the couch just
    waiting for the warmth to
    return, but it won’t

    return–in March or
    May, or ever because
    you are gone
    forever.

  2. Jane Shlensky

    Finally able to get online again. Happy New Year, friends!

    An Unsuitable Sound for a Funeral

    We wish him back, his smiling face—
    how he could joke and not debase
    another, but could help us brace
    ourselves against time’s bitter race.
    We’re sorry, as we laugh and trace
    our lives back to the time and place
    when first we met him, joy and grace
    and laughter—who could keep his pace?
    So now we laugh in suits and lace
    remembering in any case
    we are like flowers in a vase
    he gathered, but his carapace
    was laughter in death’s cold embrace.

  3. uvr

    An Unsuitable Stain for Pain

    Inside, a tide
    rises
    swelling to fill
    my chest

    an ache
    crashing against
    my ribs

    a searing
    agony
    gripping
    my breath

    A liquid pain
    an indelible stain

  4. grcran

    an unsuitable word for a poem

    before the never ever
    -y thing was possible
    no imp- would simply take
    the words from poems we make
    as birds beyond the north be
    -side of wind sighed soft
    lee gives us pause because
    the object of the clause
    won’t say some such or many
    any ninny’d sure concur
    we know now less is more, baby
    all words but one: therefore, maybe

    gpr crane

    1. ppfautsch24

      Unsuitable Time for Sleep
      Bubbles teeming in a glass,
      streams of laughter in the air,
      and the celebration starting at ten.
      Let the reveling begin,
      to last until the ball drops and descends.
      New Year comes with a toast and cheer.
      Champagne flair, bubbles lingering in crystal glassware, and a night of no compare;
      when a kiss is bestowed, followed by
      a resolution prayer.
      By Pamelap

  5. deringer1

    AN UNSUITABLE RESPONSE

    It was a he/she disagreement
    and neither one would yield.
    Decisions followed rashly
    with no thought for family weal.

    Thus was a rift created,
    a family torn, children in tears,
    uprooted lives and then
    a future of uncertain years.

    Vows set aside and disregarded
    always cause someone to cry.
    It’s usually the little children
    for no one will tell them why.

    In homes where each one clings to pride
    love doesn’t ever have a chance.
    What began as a fandango
    becomes a slow and sad last dance.

  6. grcran

    An Unsuitable Times for the News

    With the news that you sell us you choose
    Things for jealousy scandal outrage
    & uncage heartache for those who lose
    Attack seniors adults underage
    In your business sell ads sell papers
    But the paper you print costs so much
    As you track down the local capers
    Cannot write can’t convey human touch
    With the TV the CNN seal
    Foxy news gets the viewership now
    So believe it or not It’s For Real
    No report out beyond this cash cow

    gpr crane

  7. De Jackson

    An Unsuitable Sky for Anger

    It’s indigo deep with crimson edged promise,
    dusked edges steeped in longing, belonging

    to no distant star. I ask questions of wayward
    clouds; they know essential {breathing}things

    but do not share. I stare at a fat moon rising,
    a bubbled laugh waiting to be burst and held,

    a giggle gurgling in my throat; shallow-swallowed
    song of promise. We keep our secrets deep, our

    scars cut deeper. We show them, and they shine and
    all the world knows {shows} that broken is beautiful.

    ::

  8. Sara McNulty

    An Unsuitable Implement for Croquet

    Where are your croquet
    mallets asked Alice,
    and those creatures are certainly
    not croquet balls.

    Despite shape assumed
    by beset upon hedgehogs,
    they cannot roll into
    an effective circle.

    Using flamingoes as mallets
    is preposterous, said Alice.
    How would you like being
    held with your neck upside down?

    Hedgehogs argued, and ran away
    each time a flamingo was swung.
    There are simply no rules, Alice said.
    Red Queen replied, ‘off with her head’.

  9. PowerUnit

    Good evening boys.
    We’re here to play not to pray. Oh God
    That’s an unsuitable predicament for a garage band. Let’s
    play some down to earth music
    not some praise the Lord too high for your voice whining
    music. Your hands belong on necks, not on books
    your fingers should press strings,
    not brandish gold rings..

  10. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    an unsuitable poem
    by juanita lewison-snyder

    this poem
    is unsuitable
    for permanence upon her back,
    a reckless tattoo
    to follow the rest of her days.
    too long for an arm
    too bold for a leg
    not good enough to curl
    gently around a breast.
    be gone
    beast!

    © 2016 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    1. tripoet

      I like this on many levels. The way you show why the poem is “unsuitable” on the anatomy is great especially because your description helps us see it on and then retracted from the body and the alliteration of the words “breast” and “beast” is strong especially because of where it falls in the piece.

  11. SarahLeaSales

    An Unsuitable Cure for The Sickness That Is Your Life

    It’s investing in yourself,
    rather than next year’s Christmas.
    It’s making daily goals,
    rather than New Year’s resolutions.
    It’s sticky note reminders
    on your fridge,
    your bathroom mirror.
    It’s enjoying the moment,
    not living for the next.
    It’s eating less,
    and drinking more (water).
    It’s not trying to like foods
    you never will.
    It’s exercising for the endorphins
    alone.

    It’s making more out of less,
    less out of the not-so-best.
    It’s creating more,
    consuming less.
    It’s replacing T-O-Y-S
    with T-I-M-E.
    It’s making time,
    not finding it.

    It’s about living,
    not just living to record.
    It’s beating your own record,
    not someone else’s.
    It’s making a life,
    while making a living.
    It’s working for a purpose,
    not just a paycheck.
    It’s showing up,
    and showing up ten minutes early.
    It’s beating your own drum,
    and marching to it in a way
    that other people want to follow you.
    It’s not redefining yourself,
    but realizing yourself.
    It’s losing yourself in the service of others,
    only to find yourself.

    It’s not worrying,
    but being productive while not worrying,
    till the time comes when you should worry,
    or realized you never had to at all.
    It’s rewriting our internal dialogue,
    so that when someone asks
    who the hell do you think you are,
    you will know the answer.
    It’s using sarcasm and wit properly.
    It’s finding the truth in fiction,
    the poetry in the everyday.
    It’s spirituality with morality,
    not religion with rules.
    It’s believing in yourself,
    but more in the One who
    created you.
    It’s not about believing in others,
    but in the One who sent them.
    It’s knowing that prayer always comforts
    the one who prays,
    if not the prayed for.
    It’s not love without limits,
    but limitless love.
    It’s belief in life everlasting.

    It’s loving those you are with;
    it’s talking to those around you.
    It’s putting the cashier,
    the bagger,
    the clerk,
    before the call,
    before the text.
    You will miss out on less.
    It’s being a friend,
    but not without reciprocity
    of contact.
    It’s being careful
    with confidences.
    It’s knowing if your spouse
    asked you again,
    the answer would be the same.

    It’s using stress as fuel,
    not as a furnace,
    and it’s never,
    ever
    ending it,
    but sometimes
    it can be
    simply
    letting it end.

    1. tripoet

      This piece is REALLY REALLY good. It shows an ability to “read” life in a way that helps others see theirs. I might share with some of my friends if that would be ok with you.
      I felt so soothed after reading this and will read it again. I think that you are “part prophet.”

  12. qbit

    Unsuitable

    Unlacing my skin
    And stepping out of it —
    An unsuitable cover
    For meat and sin.

    You will flinch
    To see past my nakedness,
    To where even lovers
    Cannot bear to look.

    Uncontained,
    My anger a hurricane,
    The tides of my blood
    Tsunami.

    Also a glory —
    The mind ignited and unstipulated,
    The heart beating a tack
    To the horizon’s wide water.

    Can I survive from here
    On nothing but iridescence?
    Can I live on just the spark
    Of raw nerve?

  13. tripoet

    An unsuitable complaint from one’s daughter

    I try to tell her that I didn’t vote
    for Trump. But she only hears that
    I did not vote for Hiliary either. (could only
    in conscience click down ballot) She hits me
    with the complaint that I am responsible
    for the condition of things. I try
    to drive her to the school where I volunteer.
    “See little hands moving chess pieces
    with my instruction?” She can’t find
    her way to my car. I tell her that I sponsor
    Mary Elenor from the Dominican and Babina
    from the the southern coast of India. I write,
    pay for books, attempt to inspire. But she says,
    “They aren’t from Syria.” What about the child
    with special needs? I give my poetry prize money to her.
    “Not good enough nor nearly enough.” I bought
    a blanket for a needy mom for Christmas. “Not
    warm enough.” She no longer respects me, she says.
    I ask her what she’s done since pulling the lever
    in November. She tells me to go choke on my self-righteousness.

  14. taylor graham

    AN UNSUITABLE NAME FOR LOSS

    Remember Columbine. Not
    that school massacre in Colorado,
    but the mountain flower like a crimson spider
    with spiked petals blooming at a turn of trail
    to Shealor Lakes, or in the cow camp meadow
    in July. Or that long summer I turned seven
    at the tamarack lodge, columbine
    for a fairy garden behind the tents, a tiger
    swallowtail (so lately a caterpillar, so soon gone)
    as fairy queen. Mid-morning sun turned
    the stream glittering as it made its bed
    of decomposed granite sparked with stars.
    My mother would have scolded me
    for playing in the mud,
    but she was gone
    with father
    sailing the world.
    Some little camper’s bracelet of columbine
    floated away down the stream, but she’d
    be going home tomorrow while
    I stayed the summer, lost to fairy tale.

    1. tripoet

      I think that you should send this poem to a newspaper or magazine in Columbine, Co. Its so poetic and has such beautiful images. I think that it would be well received there and for good reason.

  15. Anthony94

    An Unsuitable Image for December

    Birds arrive ahead of the front,
    siskins and finches after the
    earlier display of flickers rimming
    the bird bath, their black bibs
    dripping with icy water. Sedums
    with heavy heads begin to
    bend under eager beaks,
    the toad house goes empty.

    Leaves sail today in a new way,
    purposeful in their coming to
    ground, hiding in the aging
    green grasses as though
    they could recreate stem and sap.

    Although we’ve not met,
    the photograph shows you
    sitting with your feet in
    warmer waters, geese skidding
    into their wet landings, ducks
    scrabbling in the shallows.

    How do you manage to be so still
    that the camera finds you this way,
    mid December, clinging to my wall
    so that I stand and want to know
    the name of such soothing water.

  16. headintheclouds87

    An Unsuitable Destination for a Dreamer

    A dreamer undoubtedly prefers
    The deep solitude of thought
    Than sharing solid ground
    With loud, outspoken crowds
    Who are so helplessly, hopelessly
    Awake, their eyes only able to see
    In straight lines, to abhorrent obviousness
    That dreamers simply cannot bear,
    It is a destination quite unsuitable
    For life’s wanderers and gliders
    Who choose to take stranger roads
    And follow the allure of the obscure instead.

  17. Connie Peters

    An Unsuitable Name for a Baby

    A little innocent
    comes into the world.
    Peaceful and sweet,
    he or she lies there
    unaware of the
    brewing storm
    as parents come up
    with names like

    Anoush, Atara, Behan,
    Cormac, Cosima, Cotton,
    Ebo, Ecru, Elspeth,
    Fable, Herbert, Isolde,
    Jaguar, Keziah, Lo,
    Ono, Merrigan, Mucia,
    Primus, Uilleam, Waldo,
    Wilder, Zeus, or Ziggy,

    They might be singing songs
    patterned from
    A Boy Named Sue.

  18. PressOn

    AN UNSUITABLE ENDING FOR THE HOLIDAYS

    Christmastime
    is gentleness and pleasantry;
    Christmastime
    connotes a soothing song and chime
    but New Years barks with revelry;
    it lacks the subtlety to be
    Christmastime.

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