Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 386

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Good (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: “Good Morning,” “Good Evening,” “Good Bye,” “Good Golly, Miss Molly,” and so on. I hope you have a “good time” writing “good poems” on this “good day.”

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Here’s my attempt at a Good Blank poem:

“Good but not Great”

He tells me he feels “good but not great”
when I ask him how he feels,

and I think I know how he feels,
but I’m not great at interpreting feelings,

though I am pretty good–just sometimes
I go a little too far and over analyze,

trying to do something great when
I should be content with something good

and anyway I waste a great deal of time
on these good moments with complete strangers,

which is why I’m really good about spending
most of my days reading great books

instead of getting out to have a good time
with all the people who I think are just great.

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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 he’s pretty good at a lot of stuff, though not super great at most things.

Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.

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105 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 386

  1. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    good enough
    by juanita lewison-snyder

    his mother left when he was but a toddler,
    a sad ‘goobye john’ letter pinned to his diaper
    explaining how the isolating country life
    had become too much for a big city girl
    with dreams the size of a small nation.

    for years he tried hard to remember that moment
    in spite of his young tender age, innocence
    forever locked in a battle with himself
    wondering why he was never good enough
    for her to have chosen to stay.

    © 2017 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

  2. Shennon

    Good lighting filters through
    crinkled, dying, changing color leaves
    It bounces off bare-faced rocks
    resting just below the surface of the brook
    Icy water already, determined to flow
    a few more weeks, until winter’s harsh breath
    ceases all movement for a season.

    –ShennonDoah

    1. ppfautsch24

      Good Enough…
      Good feelings when I am at my best, not much sleep, but plenty of rest.
      When my night is covered by your latte colored skin steaming over me.
      Good life letting your intrigue grow into caring.
      Two benevolent souls melding together making love brew.
      A good sip of the intrinsic creation l am to be.
      By Pamelap

  3. grcran

    good and evil

    oh really
    tackling that one
    it’s so barbed

    the apple
    put it down
    just let it be

    we saw
    adam & eve
    get un-dis-robed

    kicked out
    of paradise
    ain’t been back yet

    to know
    whether it’s nasty
    or it’s ok to do

    then do
    it anyway
    yes you’re still exiled

    we won’t be
    going back to eden
    anytime soon

    gpr crane

  4. angieinspired

    good God!

    the sky is going everywhere
    today in archetypal fashion
    hackneyed and quintessential
    all at the same spastic time

    it’s outside of office windows
    reminding all girl Fridays
    whose shackles are getting
    deliriously looser & looser

    that it’s time to pull out
    their wings, – those little light
    saviors tucked into small purses
    where no one thought they’d fit

  5. J. J. Moss

    Good Madam Daughtery

    With a cross on her chest in maternal attire
    Good Madam Daughtery came up from the mire
    She wore wooden shoes and rings of gold
    Stomped out monsters with a click of the sole

    And children flocked wherever she roamed
    The pied piper behind, even he had atoned
    She taught the fairies and sprites how to fly
    And wrapped up the babies in soft linen whites

    I had never known her legend true
    When I was young and life was new
    Where was she when I believed in unicorns
    Before the world changed and devil grew horns?

    She used to ride horses late into the night
    Through forests of dark an unspeakable sights
    And in absence no good was there to see
    So Good Madam Daughtery, what good was for me?

  6. Jane Shlensky

    Good Thoughts Fly

    Good thought rise up friendly
    feathers on a breeze
    and travel, their destination
    aloft, urging the vibrational
    level of this world
    to lift us from the dirt
    on which we stand
    and complain
    and fear
    and wallow.

    Like flocks of radiant birds,
    I release them when I think
    of you. I close my eyes
    and imagine that you are
    going about your day
    like any other, your mind
    emptied by a run or
    cluttered with cares
    and that suddenly,
    my good thoughts alight
    on you and for no reason
    you can discern, you feel glad,
    you laugh, you think
    good thoughts

    and they rise up
    friendly feathers on a breeze…
    and so we rise and rise.

  7. mayboy

    GREAT IDEAS

    Good idea comes first
    when you are in a good mood to burst,
    to spread the branch and drink the tea
    before the morning plea.
    Pack it in the paper bag
    to protect it from the bug,
    dry it fresh to keep the smell of herbs
    in the boiling pot of illusionary verbs.

    Someone has to take it first
    when there is still the thirst, in line
    to not diminish desire of empire
    before the end of burning fire.
    Develop the envelope
    to send it where it should belong,
    use all the ornamental signs
    in the heart of trending mark.

    Good idea comes first
    when you dont forget to realize the point,
    to make a note and share it though
    before the sleep it takes it overall.
    Keep it in your mind
    to restrain it from demise,
    hubble it to reach your dreams
    in the coming days of apokalipse.

  8. Arash

    Good Old Days

    by Arash

    Like rice one throws at weddings, fists of ice
    Were flung against my own bedroom windows.
    I rose in fright, my face drenched in mirrors.
    Although I looked the selfsame as before,
    That gusty dawn when I woke, I felt old;
    As though a crucial threshold had been crossed,
    As though was wed to Chronos now, shackled
    To pounds of sagging flesh and porous bones.
    Back in the good old days my body formed
    The (veiled) foundation of my strength, freedom.
    The worthless box that held the priceless stone;
    The papers of my love letters; scaffolds
    To build my dreams, they’d now become gallows.
    Back in the good old days I didn’t know.

  9. De Jackson

    good glimpses of smallish dragons

    it’s the wings that give them
    away, most surprisingly not
    the hot hot glow of embered
    breath. the marigold scent of
    morning and good green earth.

    they unfold themselves slow,
    no more than fireflies, or snap
    -dragons, dragonflies, tiny songs.

    the sun rises on thorn claw,
    gnarled horn. the rising and fall
    -ing of emerald-scaled chest. we

    always (all ways) let them
    sleep, but keep their secrets
    close.

    ::

  10. SarahLeaSales

    Good Life
    The good life is one that is lived,
    not through a screen,
    but with hope of things unseen.

    It is lived with purpose,
    but without everything having to have one.

    It is understood that every day
    doesn’t have to be a holiday;
    it is understood that holidays
    don’t have to be the best ever.

    The good life,
    like any good poem,
    doesn’t have to rhyme,
    but is lived knowing that
    one has a reason
    for being here.

    The good life is often lived never knowing
    what that reason is,
    but accepting by faith that one,
    does indeed,
    exist.

  11. grcran

    good word

    wise linguist once was asked for the best word
    gist of the matter right not left absurd
    it’s good replied the gent-lewoman good
    it’s got the good sounds any best word should

    philosopher was queried for his pick
    no word is God but good ones do the trick
    keep doing good you won’t do ought that’s wrong
    good souls together singing one great song

    then thirdly sad old preacher had his turn
    we’re all bad sinners all of us will burn
    it’s evil over good strong Satan wins
    the holy word is written mankind sins

    yet poets still continue search for truth
    obscene inane preposterous uncouth
    we’ll find a good word with some brand-new letter
    if not the best word maybe somewhat better

    gpr crane

  12. serenevannoy

    Good Grief

    She doesn’t want your comfort,
    your rough hand clasped,
    your downcast eyes,
    so respectful,
    so bland.

    You want to make things easy,
    smooth out the wrinkled sheets
    that will tear in another year of use,
    maybe less,
    the cloth of them so familiar to her
    fingertips,
    her backside,
    heels,

    Like her favorite sheets. Ecru-and-gray striped.
    Her mother bought them at a yard sale.
    They came pre-softened
    by someone else’s fingertips,
    backside,
    heels.
    The only sheets she ever bothered to mend
    when they got small holes in them
    from the buckles on the thigh-high boots,
    because he liked the feel of them.
    She slept on the mended spots,
    because her sewing wasn’t great,
    and the point was
    he liked the feel of them.

    She will sleep on those sheets until they fall apart,
    shred them into cleaning rags,
    use them until you can’t tell what they were,
    but she can.
    If she won’t let that go,
    that queen-sized reminder
    of his skin,
    his comfort

    what makes you think you can wrest
    this grief from her,
    this pain she will cherish
    until she, herself

    is gone.

  13. Anthony94

    A Good Night

    Venus’ brightness paints the wall
    so that to turn toward it is to waken
    and rise to visit her at the window

    A good night when everything is
    chromed in a certain lemony silver
    that cuts a swath from her orbit

    across sere pastures, upended birdbath,
    the barren feeder swaying like a
    Picasso pendulum in the night wind

    Light fractures the hedge tree and I
    wonder if deer seek out the strange
    brightness on the trail or sidestep

    to plant hooves in shadow?
    Do voles scurry faster knowing
    owls see even better in her cloud

    cloud reflecting brightness? Good
    then the night in which she sends
    such back to us, paints this wall,

    beckons me to celebrate a planet
    hung before time itself, predictable,
    steadfast, making for a good night.

  14. Uma

    Good Day

    Grooves sink deeper
    Lines more firmly etched
    Smooth cedes to creased
    Spots dot the clear

    Time gleefully dips
    its brush in years
    relentlessly dabs
    age on the face

    Yet the mirror paints
    a pleasant picture

    A smile still lives in eyes
    Lips still tilt upwards
    Life still has its moments
    Maybe today is a good day

  15. Uma

    Good Day

    Grooves sink deeper
    Lines more firmly etched
    Smooth cedes to creased
    Spots dot the clear

    Time gleefully dips
    its brush in years
    relentlessly dabs
    age on the face

    Yet the mirror paints
    a pleasant picture

    A smile still lives in eyes
    Lips still tilt upwards
    Life still has its moments
    Maybe today is a good day

  16. Corinne

    Good Grief

    The unforeseen yet inevitable circumstances of my life
    are my Lucy, who cunningly delights in
    whipping the football away from his aim.
    Every. Single. Time.
    Like Charlie Brown, I never see it coming
    and grief upends me, leaving me winded on the ground.

    But I have the one shirt I can always wear,
    so I don it, and take my cheery zig zag stripe self out
    and into the next strip.

  17. Sara McNulty

    Good News

    You
    can
    always
    depend on
    a fortune cookie
    to reveal promising future
    in which riches, fame, love life, and business decisions
    will all work in your favor; savor it, then turn it over for your lucky numbers.

  18. James Von Hendy

    It’s been a long while since I’ve posted here. Long overdue. Lately I’ve been playing with pantoums and rereading some of the late poems of Larry Levis.

    Good Song in the Face of Nothing

    I’m reading Larry Levis in the rain on a street corner
    in San Jose. I think, there is a man who finds beauty
    among the sadness of field workers bent to the soil.
    A homeless man wearing a Burger King crown sings

    in San Jose. I think, there is a man who find beauty
    even among the detritus of madness and trash.
    A homeless man wearing a Burger King crown sings
    for himself. Rap from his boom box is an anthem.

    Even among the detritus of madness and trash
    a man makes a kingdom of dignity
    for himself. Rap from his boom box is an anthem.
    Larry Levis would elegize its sadness: the good

    A man makes, a kingdom of dignity
    from almost nothing. This is a thing of beauty
    Larry Levis would elegize, its sadness, the good
    one ekes from a life unspooling in the street.

  19. DMK

    Good goat
    by Dawn Kvernenes

    I am not a good sheep I do not follow well
    does that mean that this good goat is from some kind of h*
    the master will raise his voice but I don’t like it when he yells

    follow like a lemming off a steep cliff just to obey
    really isn’t something in asking permission; if I may
    yet I seldom stray in following your way

    I find away for it to be palpable to both of us
    when it comes to this you hear but don’t discuss
    so what is all the fuss

    you did not make a good sheep here
    for the good goat you need to cheer
    what’s exactly dangerous from a good goat to fear
    does that mean not or more so will you remain near

  20. taylor graham

    GOOD MORNING

    The first halcyon day in months,
    predicted sixty degrees, almost like spring.
    While we were asleep the Snow Moon passed
    full over the porch and melted behind a ridge.
    New grass spurts in the field, fed by
    record rains that drowned a five-year drought.
    Ground so drenched, the water table’s
    almost underfoot.
    A week ago the creek flooded, sweeping
    last year’s deadfall all downstream.

    This morning has so much to recommend
    it, a cloudless dawn, and now
    a smiling sun for guidance how our shadows
    fall by moments at an altered angle.
    We need no telegram – the day’s already
    told us how fast things change.
    Catch that moment before it runs away.

  21. Amaria

    “sevenling: good girl”

    when little a good girl was
    soft spoken, well behaved,
    and got good grades

    when older a good girl
    kept her legs closed, married
    a nice guy, raised a family

    so why am I so bored?

    by Arcadia Maria

  22. Connie Peters

    Good Evening

    After a busy day, I rest in my green recliner, with a hot cup of tea with cream and sugar.
    Thirty games of Words with Friends wait for me, and I play them one by one.
    I shut out the rest of the world as I search for the word that yields the most points.

    Silent, unseen friends
    Understand the way I feel
    They help me unwind

  23. seamuscorleone

    Good Head

    She’s got a good head
    For giving good head
    And a heart just begging
    To be Broken.

    Men leave and she
    Bitches, sure the next girl
    Won’t be half the girl she
    Wants to be.

    Wanting nothing more
    Than to be loved but
    Giving it away to men who say
    They love her when all they really love is
    Her brain.

    Jesus may have walked on water but
    Whatever he did or
    Did not do means
    Nothing to her when
    Night falls and there is no
    One to warm her
    Heart.

  24. Domino

    Good Hearted Woman Lives Here

    Strangers pass, you beg for help
    they don’t heed your sorrow
    Eyes averted they pretend
    they’ll help you tomorrow

    Imagining your varied crimes,
    Why you are a mendicant
    They simply judge you as they pass,
    clearly you’re impenitent

    Their rationalizations just don’t help
    you feed yourself this morning
    You move on in hopes of help
    without the shame and scorning.

    Few and far between are those
    with much-needed perception
    They don’t care how you got here
    but they’re a rare exception.

    So you hope the soup kitchen
    has food enough to feed you
    Or that you’ll find a day job soon
    that won’t abase and bleed you.

    Or, in a fond, remembered dream
    of long-gone youth, you reckon,
    a warm clean bed, a quiet room,
    a kindly “welcome” beckon.

  25. headintheclouds87

    Good Intentions

    We all set out the gate
    With good intentions intact,
    Burning in our bright eyes
    And twinkling in bushy tails,
    But following the equation
    Of time plus tiresome peers,
    Our smiles soon sadly wane
    And shall inevitably furrow
    Into permanent frowns
    That betray our initial exhilaration.

  26. PowerUnit

    Goodbye Jesus

    I’ve said goodbye to Jesus
    rolled him back in his tomb
    strolled the nights alone
    and closed the doors behind us

    He was heavy baggage, nobody wins
    not when their story
    their power and their glory
    are all contained within

    I live freely and do not pray
    the devil in my ear
    no longer speaks of fear
    but lives for the next day

  27. tripoet

    Good People

    For over a decade every eighteen months
    my mother added a new child
    to her collection of children.
    But no matter how busy she always found time
    for herself. She’d snuggle inside the kitchen nook,
    rest on the cushion skirting the bay window
    legs slightly bent but supported
    with the newspaper held up past her face
    a “Do not disturb sign” as she read
    the obituaries. Every so often like an accountant
    she’d give an updating in a voice filled with both sadness
    and acceptance to the stragglers still finishing their oatmeal.
    “Old Mrs Welch, dead at 82 years. An excellent babysitter.
    Helped me out so many times. What a good person she was.”
    “Dr Dixon. Oh he had been ill for quite awhile.
    Poor Mrs Dixon. What a loss. Such a good man.”
    Whether expected or unexpected death ultimately surprised her
    and it was as though she couldn’t believe a passing unless presented
    to her in a written form. “Mr Bishop. Who will run his store now?
    Remember years ago he gave me an open account and always let me pay
    at the end of the month? Such a good man.” And the list went on.
    My mother died last year at ninety-seven surrounded in a cocoon
    of dismemory. In my grief I imagine a young mother lamenting her loss to
    her children over pancakes. “Mrs Klier, how many cookies did she bake
    for the school bake sales? It is certain she set a record for the most swim meets
    officiated. She never missed daily mass at Christ the King Church. How many prayers
    might she have said? What a loss. Such a good person.”

  28. PressOn

    GOOD HUMOR

    One laugh is worth a thousand frowns.
    Laughs light the way to smoother ways;
    the camaraderie of clowns
    is what I wish for, all my days.

    Laughs light the way to smoother ways:
    illuminating dreary roads
    is what I wish for, all my days,
    as I contend with weary loads.

    Illuminating dreary roads,
    your laughter bears me all the while
    as I contend with weary loads.
    Is all contained within your smile?

    Your laughter bears me all the while;
    the camaraderie of clowns
    is all contained within your smile;
    one laugh is worth a thousand frowns.

  29. Walter J Wojtanik

    GOODBYE

    We say our goodbyes
    assuming this may be the final end.
    And amidst our laughs and cries
    we walk away as better friends.

    Assuming this may be the final end,
    we reminisce about adventures shared.
    We walk away as better friends;
    we realize how much we’ve cared.

    We reminisce about adventures shared,
    and know our hearts are sweetly blessed,
    we realize how much we’ve cared
    now until the day we rest.

    Know our hearts are sweetly blessed
    and our souls have been as well,
    from now until life’s soft caress;
    until death’s fatal knell.

    Our souls have been as well
    connected, and conjoined in heart and mind
    until death’s fatal knell,
    these are the ties that bind.

    Connected and conjoined, in heart and mind
    and amidst our laughs and cries,
    these are the ties that bind,
    and we sadly say our goodbyes.

    © Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

  30. Walter J Wojtanik

    GOOD WORDS, CUSS WORDS

    With great knowledge
    comes great responsibility.
    From the cradle, we press our head
    against life’s grindstone
    for experience, and the resulting flat spot
    becomes a wonderful teacher.
    Holy hell, who wants a round
    pumpkin head anyway?
    Keep stirring the primordial soup,
    what you learn will help your cause!
    Damn it!

    © Walter J Wojtanik – 2017

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