Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 382

For today’s prompt, write a refresh poem. Perhaps, the poem is about refreshing your thirst, refreshing your home decor, or refreshing your browser. Perhaps, the poem is about the need to refresh your lifestyle changes–or even the afterglow of being refreshed by a walk in nature or time with family and friends.


Recreating_Poetry_Revise_PoemsRe-create Your Poetry!

Revision doesn’t have to be a chore–something that should be done after the excitement of composing the first draft. Rather, it’s an extension of the creation process!

In the 48-minute tutorial video Re-creating Poetry: How to Revise Poems, poets will be inspired with several ways to re-create their poems with the help of seven revision filters that they can turn to again and again.

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Here’s my attempt at a Refresh poem:

“Groundhog Day”

I love the movie Groundhog Day.
One, because it has Bill Murray
and two, because it continually

refreshes his character’s day
until he learns how to live
the quote unquote right way.

How wonderful if everyone
was afforded that opportunity
to go through the ups and downs

of living with no repurcussions
until we finally figured it out
and could move forward refreshed.


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 a Groundhog Day enthusiast.

Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.


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78 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 382

  1. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    how rain smells
    by juanita lewison-snyder

    i wish it could always be
    like this after a rain —

    damp, cool, fresh

    sweet vapors rising from the ground
    clinging like earth pheromones
    to garden soil
    sweet potato vine
    white picket fences,
    wash rippling on a clothesline
    somewhere in coos county.

    brown and white chickens flitter about my feet
    happy to take advantage of fat, annoyed worms
    pushing through soggy soil, not ready
    to let go of the vapors.

    © 2017 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    1. ppfautsch24

      I rest in the shadows as our scent permeates the room. Refreshing when love takes hold of a heart that becomes a menace to loneliness.
      By Pamelap

  2. Jane Shlensky

    The Caregiver’s Song

    If I could paint the grays away,
    skies of rose and gold
    we could behold,
    and we would gaze away,
    wish bad times into good.

    I’d paint away the pain,
    refresh our lives again.
    If I could, you know I would.
    You know I would.

    When you call me, voices in the night,
    struggling in your dreams,
    such nights are so long it seems,
    and I’m bereft of light,
    surviving on stars’ gleams.

    If I could make you whole,
    I’d give my very soul.
    If I could, you know I would.
    You know I would.

    Talk of Love, talk of joy and pain,
    talk of gain and loss,
    of summer’s grain and winter’s frost.
    Say we are falling stars, a streaking heavenly host.
    We flash across the night,
    a gorgeous fleeting light.
    We’re gone too soon, but like the moon,
    we shine, we wax, we wain.

  3. grcran

    play it again

    refresh. oh bring poor Bangladesh.
    some bling an Irish spring
    a bar or two.
    the mesh. undaunted Gilgamesh.
    informed cuneiform
    out of the blue.
    we thresh. we cope with so much press-
    ure. the lure. the lit’rature
    comes roaring through
    raw flesh. with or without the crèche.
    imply. we live. we die.
    we stand in queue.

    (note, from wiki: Gilgamesh is the main character in the Epic of Gilgamesh, an Akkadian poem that is considered the first great work of literature. His name means something to the effect of “The Ancestor is a Young-man”.)

    gpr crane

  4. uvr

    leaves us
    but settles
    on us all

    heart left
    when echoes
    of the past
    refresh forgotton

    unsettled me
    when I loved
    with the madness
    of youth
    raged with the fury
    of the wronged

    I choke
    on the memory
    of bitter words
    he was dead

    Now he is

    And I live

  5. SarahLeaSales

    Open Mic

    In their notebooks,
    their phones,
    their tablets,
    was their Word—
    their prayer,
    their hymn,
    their song,
    their story,
    their chant,
    their rant,
    their spell,
    their babble,
    their streams of
    conscious thought—
    made Flesh
    with their voice.

    The Poetry Chapel
    was dim-lit,
    glass stains
    on the tables,
    where the mass baptism
    of brains thirsty
    for the communion
    of secular verse
    came to get drunk.

    They were creators
    as well as consumers;
    they wrote,
    they spoke,
    and audience
    and poet were

  6. seingraham


    If only she’d turned silver, even snow-white
    would’ve suited her
    But this streaky salt and pepper stuff that
    was really no colour—
    She was not doing well with it

    What colour did she used to be – she can’t
    believe she can’t recall
    Gets out photo albums, looks back and back
    Oh yes – shades of blonde for years

    Platinum to gold to ash back to platinum
    Then tired of all the jokes – truly, one blonde
    joke too many
    And she’d gone red!

    Oh – and that was fun – jokes there too
    But different – she loved having flaming hair
    And experimented with many shades but usually
    returned to colours not found in nature
    Eventually, though, settled on a dark auburn

    How long after that did it all disappear
    It feels like forever
    Long story, but all keratin-rich things
    affected by medication departed her
    in concert: hair (including lashes and eyebrows), nails,
    and teeth (more about calcium here, but still gone)
    Enter the age if wigs

    When did she notice her hair regrowing – thinner and
    in patches – and worst of all – some no-colour
    she didn’t recognise
    She began cutting it off, shaving the sides and back
    Kept wearing wigs – better and more interesting ones
    all the time

    Then, she noticed her hair – still an ugly colour –
    was growing in a bit thicker
    She let it grow longer, remembering sometimes
    dye helps to thicken hair strands, decided
    to dye hers again
    Thought how refreshing it would be to feel air
    on her hair

    She pondered – should she go silver? Or white?
    Nah – how boring would that be?
    She went “Midnight Amethyst” and was delighted
    Purple – her favourite colour, and amethyst, her
    birthstone … enchanting.

  7. Karen

    I take a shower to refresh
    clear my head of discourse
    clean and revive the flesh
    Water droplets in Morse code

    somethings trying to get through
    something I need to remember
    before I get into the shower
    I need to take off my shoes!

  8. grcran

    so not a soda

    oh stale it down refresh it up
    and let it go at last
    go galloping let bygones lapse
    relieve yourself go fast

    the freshen-up is not a noun
    commercials get it wrong
    go easy with the flow the gist
    is central short or long

    one finds one’s right refreshment some
    how somewhere in life’s trough
    and no one’s fit to judge the drink
    of someone else’s quaff

    gpr crane

  9. Anthony94

    Pushing Refresh

    House finches redden
    and gold finches yellow.
    Siskins spar with starlings
    all seeking to refresh
    themselves at feeders
    after the long night.

    In the city, homeless
    seeking to warm
    themselves burned
    down two historic buildings
    never mind that they
    were already on
    the endangered list.

    Buildings or homeless,
    which list?

    Children went to
    school yesterday and told
    their teacher that mom
    was dead back at the
    house. Explained how
    dad stabbed her.
    The whole town trying
    to help grandparents
    cope with instant family
    instant grief.

    Where’s a button we can
    push to refresh this
    scene? Go back
    to where it’s just birds
    feeding and not night
    as it was?

  10. Walter J Wojtanik


    A new start to an old beginning,
    the winning formula has been improved.
    When moved to resurrect a suspect muse,
    choose to use whatever is available,
    turning the sail into the wind to begin again!

    © Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

  11. AsWritten


    Don’t look back –
    (If looking back means)
    you will want
    to cry.

    It’s easier to walk away
    (any way)
    with confidence, head raised,
    chest puffed –

    while declaring to the world
    (and yourself)
    that whoever criss-crosses
    your path

    is the lucky one
    who found
    what may have been
    (otherwise) lost.

  12. taylor graham


    You can’t keep history – especially its darker
    sides – from bursting out all over Main
    Street. That old saloon they built over the stump
    of the hangman’s tree drew locals and tourists
    like moths, the dummy-cowboy George
    swinging from the façade like a dusty flame.
    But the building itself, Gold Rush mortise-
    and-tenon, was at last declared unsound; boarded
    up, city managers said it had to go.
    How to preserve our town’s oldest landmark?
    A real fixer-upper, it was bought, retrofitted,
    spiffied up. Now look, that ponderous front door
    swings open on its legendary groove,
    calligraphy of Time. But on the polished bar,
    sparkling spoons and saucers instead of
    beer mugs. Refreshing on a swelter summer day.
    Can you believe, the Hangman’s Tree
    serves ice cream now.

  13. Nancy Posey

    How to Refresh Your Day

    Move that pile of work off your lap
    and step away.
    Tie on your favorite walking shoes
    and head outside.
    Take a deep breath, eyes closed, filling
    your lungs.
    Choose a song you love to play in your head
    and hum;
    Chase away that tune that crept unbidden
    into your ear.
    Or sing out loud. Sure, the neighbors
    may stare.
    They may not even notice, shut up inside
    their houses,
    But someone might come outside too,
    walking beside
    you, singing along, taking the time
    just to breathe.

  14. seamuscorleone


    Taking the time to
    Help instead of
    Harm, to
    Listen instead of

    Not just giving
    Food, but also
    Kindness. An
    Ear to listen and a
    Hand to hold.

    All of this means more than the
    Coins dropped in a cup or
    The can dropped in a bin.

    Stripping away what it is
    That make us
    Different, and revealing the
    Humanity that makes us the

    Drinking water is nice, but
    Drinking water after a long
    Run in the hot sun
    Refreshes the soul.

    The world provides plenty
    Of exhaustion and
    Blistering heat.
    Be the person that connects
    With another person and
    Remind them that a
    Person is what they are.

    You may just remind
    Yourself, as well.

  15. mayboy


    your current flow with the fish
    to incite the minds to wish,
    lose the selfishness of disease,
    empower the chest with a breeze,

    your monotony with a beam
    to reflect the specter of the mean,
    spread the loneliness of the myth,
    cyber the file without a monolith,

    your breath with the repeat
    to play the chess to beat,
    embrace the morning drown,
    not to become the mourning dawn.

  16. deringer1


    I look to the mountain where
    I go in spirit to reflect.

    There I find Moses in his desert,
    Buddha under his tree,

    the Christ in the wilderness,
    and my ancestors in the untamed West.

    Alone, I can feel power and presence,
    the strength of all that is and that came before.

    I am refreshed from inside myself
    where I know and am known.

  17. Connie Peters

    Socking it to Winter

    This may seem odd, but
    when winter sets in forever
    with black bare branches
    against the dismal gray sky
    and white snow all around
    like a blank piece of paper,

    I buy a big bag of bright socks.
    So when starkness of winter
    gets to me I gaze at and admire
    my lime green, passionate purple,
    hot pink, or flaming orange socks,
    feeling cheered and refreshed.

    It puts spring in my step.

    1. De Jackson

      Oh, Connie. I love this so much it (for some reason) makes me want to cry. Small things matter, so much. Color. Warmth. I can’t describe how much this clever piece (and peace) has touched me today. Thank you.

  18. taylor graham

    HARMONY: JAN. 29, 2017

    Screak of ice off windshield. In spite of the morning news, I’m off to Wakamatsu to walk with poets seeking words. We meet in the parking lot, scatter like refugees in a new world. Some seek the gravesite of the Japanese girl who pined for her native land; buried on our western hill. Others set out solitary for lake and woods.

    under scattered oaks
    new grass writes atop winter –
    nature’s palimpsest

    Wakamatsu, first Japanese colony on this continent – silkworms and tea plants, humans so foreign to the miners who came to California for gold. Japanese fleeing civil war – samurai and workers uprooted to our rough dry foothills. My Elsaß ancestors left wars of changing borders and official languages as the Rhein keeps flowing mountain to sea.

    Small frogs stir the edges
    ever-widening rings on water, on
    air, the egret flies.

    In leafless oak woods
    I happen on a stranger-
    poet head-on. O
    where did your people come from,
    seeking their own words for ‘wa’?

  19. De Jackson

    Breathing Room

    Make a ceiling of this sky, indigo
    in all its glory. Embrace the bound

    -aries of this room, this infinite space,
    this place we’ve been given to inhale

    and exhale and grow to know our
    -selves, each other. Gather stones

    only for building bridges, glossing quiet
    ripples on still waters. Listen for the

    gossip of the stars; they know things.
    They sing. All sting should come from

    busy bees, no honeyed lips or flowery
    speech. Hold a cloud in your cheeks,

    find air where once was fear. Consider
    lilies, birds, releasing dawn and start

    -led song to the wisdom of this breeze.
    Hum. Hiccup. Sneeze. Seize peace.


    1. PressOn

      “All sting should come from / busy bees, no honeyed lips or flowery / speech.” What a scintillating image. This whole poem reminds me of the fun of a blue kaleidoscope,

    1. tripoet

      I should have had a different title:

      An Old Lady Weighing Her Options on Refreshing Her Face

      Looking in mirror
      I ponder easier ways
      Than under the knife

  20. PowerUnit

    They aim for simplicity
    to purge memories
    of political uncertainty
    poison relationships
    with no escape hatches
    the characteristic relaxed
    easy-going atmosphere
    blurred pages unread
    self-help books
    chasing primary designs
    brands to be mobbed
    twenty-eight percent faster

      1. PowerUnit

        This is a ‘found’ poem. I googled ‘refresh’ and took phrases and headlines from about six news stories and massaged them somewhat. It is pure imagery with no intent to write a situation or story.

  21. MiMiOHearn

    Perpetual Caffeine

    I have WaWa shipped from FL.
    There is always a cup with me.
    Hot, warm, cold, who cares?
    Best cup refresher is my husband.
    He knows what I am like without

  22. headintheclouds87

    Confused Automation

    I’m checking for updates
    Or any helpful signs
    In the shifting clouds
    Up in that same old sky
    That might upgrade this tired model
    And refresh an arid actuality
    Only to ultimately find
    There are no simple, quick fixes
    Nor a series of post-release patches
    In this anomaly otherwise known as real life.

    To escape from this constant stream
    Of familiar but contemptible faces
    And well-trodden routes and places,
    I conclude that I must seize control
    To derail this mentally-crafted train
    That I have found myself trapped in,
    Or else risk arriving at a hated station
    Day after day, and night after night
    Until my limbs are no longer my own
    And are lost to confused automation.

    Lines and paths thought hidden from me
    Are now within my trembling grasp
    These hands now wrestled free
    From petty concerns and demands.
    My mind too, released from tight manacles
    Of a map made of deceptive limits
    Has now determined a new course
    Forged from my long-thirsting will
    That can now finally drink again
    From a vessel now inwardly refreshed.

    1. tripoet

      First of all, thank you for all the great comments you give to everyone. If we could all be as conscientious the poetry world would be a better place. 🙂
      I think that if you made this into 6 lines instead of 5, it would keep the tentative quality, look nice with a uniform look on the page and fit well with your use of the word “short”. Also might you consider separating your adjectives and using one first and then the second for your third line? I thought that might get each more “attention” by breaking them up. This is a lovely poem.

  23. LCaramanna

    Poems Lost

    Refresh Google’s memory, if you please
    so I may access by Blogspot with ease.
    Erase the notice of no account found
    so my collection of poems can resound,
    rejoice, reverberate, reveal
    the words carefully crafted with appeal
    to every sense of emotion
    shared by poets, with devotion
    to let my voice rise from the ashes of delete,
    soar above forsythia and lilacs, elite,
    majestic, marvelous, sublime,
    Refresh my blog, Google – now is the time!

    Lorraine Caramanna
    Without warning my blog is inaccessible, and I want it back. Is there anyone in the land of Poetic Asides who can help me? My comments on the forums at Blogger are not receiving the answer I need.


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