Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 388

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “As (blank) as (blank),” replace the blanks with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles include: “As Good As It Gets,” “As Much As You’ll Give Me,” and “As Happy As a Puppy.”


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Here’s my attempt at an As Blank As Blank poem:

“As Thankful As I Choose to Be”

thank you for the milk & cookies
& balogna sandwiches & grape juice

thank you for the hour-long lectures
on the importance of listening to others

thank you for the jokes & wise cracks
& motivational speeches & games

thank you for modeling mistakes from which
I would learn to make better choices

thank you for teaching me the difference
between right & wrong but especially

thank you for showing me that good guys
can be monsters & monsters

can appear to be good guys


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 thankful for the good and bad times of his life and for every day he gets to be alive.

Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.


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131 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 388

  1. taylor graham


    A johnboat rested upside-down in the yard.
    No fishing today. Clouds piled up,
    sky the color of treacle.
    Eucalyptus began to shiver and
    dervish, and window curtains to flap
    with storm’s abandon.
    A lone palm tree, noble crown
    on swaying pillar, stood tall.
    And then too quick
    for us to speak
    a streak
    of neon zigzag
    aimed and struck
    the crown to flame it golden.

  2. taylor graham


    if there’s a flower
    somewhere in this green forest
    hummingbird finds it

    where are the tall pines
    lining pond-shore? still water
    reflects the lost pines

    red-orange dragonfly
    hovers, flits away, fire wings
    of a small creek’s world

    in the clearing stands
    a lichened granite boulder
    singing its stone song

    motionless egret –
    a bird of calligraphy
    slipped into feathers

    the old black oak lifts
    its leafing-out-again boughs
    in silent blessing

    from behind cattails,
    their dark secret of waters
    rises blue heron

    willow in a storm
    weaves its branches with wind-rain –
    baskets full of sky

    put your ear against
    that ancient fallen cedar
    humming its long life

  3. hannahmarie

    As much as I plead, as much as I kneel
    As much as I bargain, as much as I deal
    As much as I whisper, as much as I yell
    As much as it could have, it’s all gone to Hell

    As much as the sunshine resists all the rain
    As much as the wind holds the wings of the plane
    As much as the sky collects pinpoints of light
    As much as the waves teach the sand how to fight

    As much as the blood through my veins finds a way
    As much as my heartbeat begs you to stay
    As much as the shoes by the door sit and wait
    As much as the calendar circles the date

    As much as I know a space waits in your chair
    As much as I wait for a creak in the stairs
    As much as your book on the stand sits unread
    As much as I saw, I forget that you’re dead

  4. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    as bad as it gets
    by juanita lewison-snyder

    the fists are flying
    and cursing sticks to flesh like throwing stars
    the scars go down like six-inch deep

    the rust we slit our wrists with now,
    a poison meant to carry back to the hive
    and sever us from God and Country

    no one ever misses the haunted
    we’re free to come and go as we please
    the ghosts already side step around us

    we chain our misery like junkyard dogs
    to bait and taunt with each other’s blood
    a show of love contradicting all

    so leave your pity on the hook outside
    it’s ok, they know us here
    there’s only as bad as it gets

    © 2017 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    1. ppfautsch24

      As Good As It Gets
      As much as I would like to
      I just can’t let go of wanting
      To be interested in going out
      With you…
      As the days pass
      As good as it can be
      You just aren’t intriguing me
      Like you use to before.
      By Pamelap

  5. grcran

    As Even As an Equinox

    The earth. The sun. One revolution long.
    One annual vernal equinox-y point.
    The year aligns. Mad magnetism’s strong.
    The druids did their acolytes anoint.
    Huge rocks lined up at Stonehenge British Isle.
    The Incas smiled & Machu Picchu-ed too.
    Great Pyramid triangled on the Nile.
    And equal day-night times come springing through.

    gpr crane

  6. grcran

    As Fancy As It Gets

    As fancy as she gets
    That’s my sweet wife
    I fancy her forever & a day
    Adore admire add adulation too
    Amounts of fancy which one could not weigh

    As fancy as they get
    That’s our two cats
    No fancy feast for them they like it plain
    Cat food from bag & can they beg they cry
    Lie happily til they get fed again

    As fancy as a me
    Myself and I
    I got it good should launch the boat & fish
    And watch the sun set drink myself some wine
    Fancy that… my life… one come-true wish

    And fancy-full as this
    Is… it’s for real
    Not dreaming… all we wanted has worked out
    Retired & living simply in the now
    Most folks don’t know when fancy is about

    gpr crane

  7. qbit

    Form Follows Function

    As tickled as fingers
    As laughing as ribs
    As rolled as floors
    As wrestling as kids

    As drizzled as rain
    As sleeping as lovers
    As dazed as quiet
    As slipping as covers

    As consumed as sunset
    As desirous as light
    As shifted as dreaming
    As effortless as night

  8. tunesmiff

    G. Smith
    As often as I think of you,
    Do I ever cross your mind?
    I can’t believe how fast time flew,
    As often as I think of you.
    Each memory is fresh and new,
    I can’t leave any behind.
    As often as I think of you,
    Do I ever cross your mind?

  9. Walter J Wojtanik

    Are we limited on the number of poems we can submit now, or is my poetic paranoia kicking in? Is it just me? Still no luck being able to post. Makes me wonder if I should save myself further frustration during April and not participate in the PAD (at least in submitting the prompted poems to the site). I just wish someone could clue me in.

  10. Cynthia Page

    As Senseless as Oligarchs

    Where can I go to vent my anger,
    my angst set afire in protest?
    Who will listen to another rant,
    another voice raised in protest?
    That heartless venue,
    that Rome called D.C. was invaded,
    taken down by devils from nightmares.
    We voiceless hoards, howling for hunger,
    for education, for understanding,
    we neglected hoards, asking “WHY?”
    Why must you be cruel?
    Why must you neglect us, disregard us?
    Why do you take food from our babies
    to build bombs that kill babes?
    Is the death toll still too small?
    Do you profit from coffins?
    You boo-hoo at our needs and our illness.
    You rail at us, we millions
    left behind by reckless disdain,
    and say you are kinder to us.
    Your forms of compassion we can forgo.
    You blame us for our misfortune,
    tell each other that we bleat like the sheep
    you once herded into slaughtering chutes.
    You say, “If you stop being sheep,
    you would prosper, too,” and yet
    your rules create more cherubs, more lambs,
    because someone must be slaughtered
    for banquets, for steaks roasting.
    Someone must be mutton for carnivores.
    We, you say, are closest to the blade.
    If we rose up, if we butchered our butchers,
    who then is to blame?

  11. seingraham


    As long as you breathe, I can’t give up
    It doesn’t seem to matter that stars
    Stream down like winter rain or that
    Another dog has run away as if
    He knows my love may do him in
    Should he deign to stay

    As long as I know you walk the earth
    If not exactly the path you trod
    I can’t sever the bond connecting us
    Nor banish thoughts and feelings
    of you from my psyche, or,
    I would – as soon as the fates allowed.

  12. grcran

    As Crazy As One

    Hoping for the loon
    She waited while he went
    Presenting her with stamps
    From far away
    A wing-ed gift arrived
    Beyond what walls can take
    Soft call so sad & wistful
    As they fished
    He built a cypress frame
    Right angles from their tree
    With knots & imperfection
    Lots of glue
    And who is crazy now
    The two of them did gaze
    Did listen for the loon
    Finding a mate
    Heard waves mild minnows splash
    Minutiae sandy grew
    The grain both light & strong
    Within the wood
    Within the frame they lived
    Migration of the bird
    They found a quiet cove
    Out of the storm
    And loon with wondrous wings
    Afloat does flap them dry
    Then once more dives & swims
    Under the sea

    gpr crane

  13. Beth Henary Watson

    As little as can be known

    I’m doing well, I must remind myself,
    As well as can be expected given
    Where I came from: the fundamentalists,
    So fundamental as to ignore the basic
    Realities of Earth: Mountains, fossils,
    Buddhists, gypsies, continents on the move,
    Probably over more time than we thought.

    As little as can be known about things,
    All things bright and beautiful, great and small,
    I comprehend even less than I should
    Because I was taught it didn’t matter
    Beyond our sect, beyond our narrow view
    So restrictive that it never could have
    Birthed a church, mothered her theology,
    Inspired a nation of happy heathens
    That just shrugged off the girl in the long dress.

  14. De Jackson

    (As Crazy as it Sounds, She is)

    Still Pondering Crows

    She knows
    there are other things to pause
    and poem
    (the light in that window there,
    the flapping rooster man on the corner,
    the whisper of snails)

    but she cannot seem to get
    past the ebony apostrophes
    of those feathered raven
    gathering murder
    and calling the morning
    a black-heart
    with no more shine.

    See the way they line
    the wire, bring their caws
    and effect against
    all this blue? They’re
    plotting something big,
    and I,
    for on(c)e,
    will be read


  15. Anthony94


    As high as the sun is already
    I know I have slept through

    the roll of thunder curling
    like a wave come to earth

    ridden it into the final hours
    when it dissolved on some

    distant shore, spent, empty
    of its crash and bang, the surf

    leash around my ankle loose
    my ears open, the silence all

    I need to know predawn has
    yielded to sunrise and only

    wetness remains, the shine
    of drops pliant as memory.

  16. Bushkill

    As White as Snow

    Freshly falling in silent waves
    Waves driven by wind, making colossal drifts
    Drifts tall enough for childhood caves
    Caves deep and cold making aching limbs stiff

    Stiffness unwound around hot cocoa cups
    Cups with snowman all dressed for the cold
    Cold chased from hearts by these young pups
    Pups in our heart, back outside we go, bold.

  17. Walter J Wojtanik


    I choose my words carefully
    and I choose where I want to say them.
    I say them in a way then, that will convey
    everything I want, on any day I want them to.

    This expressive fool
    has chosen to drool over poetic verse
    in the worst way, be they his words
    or the things that others think to say.

    I have found my authentic voice
    in my choice of verbiage. No sage
    with wise words can unschool me,
    for my quirks and strange habits rule me

    and I gaze with my poetic heart
    at all that its eyes can see. To me,
    that is what all poets might see in ways
    that make sense to them. And then,

    I will come to understand all that our craft
    will demand of us. I will choose
    the level of my commitment and be admittedly
    as poetic as I want to be!

    © Walter J. Wojtanik

  18. Uma

    As painful as death

    Is this what dying feels like?
    This ache that starts with a twinge,
    then grows, till the heart ties itself
    into a knot so tight
    it sits heavy in the chest,
    and the mind tries to use reason
    to untie the hurt, unravel the pain,
    and all the while the blood pales
    with the effort of pushing through the veins

    Is this the kind of anguish one feels
    when death calls for the one you love
    leaving you behind
    to deal with the vacuum
    that you wish would engulf you
    for the thought of living one more day
    will rip you apart

    And as I watch this gradual
    what used to be everything
    it feels more painful than even dying,
    for we must live through the death of us
    to become you and I

  19. Shennon

    As Deserving As You Think

    I still hesitate

    As much as I’d like
    to take you back
    into my arms,
    my house,
    my life

    I still ache inside

    As much as I’d love
    to hold you,
    laugh with you,
    make plans for our future

    I still remember

    As little respect as you gave me
    twisting my heart,
    teasing my tears,
    leaving me lonely

    I still can’t believe

    As deserving as you think you are
    my days have been fuller,
    my confidence keeps mending,
    my life has been better

    I still think you should go.


  20. Sara McNulty

    As Yummy As Marzipan

    Almond paste,
    ooh, that taste.
    Chocolate covered
    or even smothered
    inside a cake–sweet surprise.
    When I see their colors, my eyes
    get wide. Green, pink, yellow, red.
    Shaped like fruits, candy instead.
    Have yourself some marzipan,
    from a reliable artisan.

  21. deringer1


    You look at me and think that I am free.
    Do not believe that just because I fly
    about at will, flitting from tree to tree
    that I am safe and do not have to try
    to be alert. I do not want to die.
    I spend every day in search of food,
    so forgive me if my comments seem rude
    but you have no clue just what I go through
    to feed myself and my burgeoning brood.
    Please know I’m not free, just struggling too.

  22. DMK

    breaking into cars
    trying to walk out
    with my notebook
    senior with walker
    Asian gentleman using internet
    stopped theft
    youth no longer welcome at Starbucks
    probably best
    as dumb as dirt addict generousity

  23. Arash

    As Sharp as Knife
    by Arash

    Fear is the bleeding yarn
    Fear is the fleeting dawn
    Fear is the grave of sleep
    Fear is the fiery yawn

    Fear is the naked plain
    Fear is the shield and chain
    Fear is the spider’s creep
    Fear is the lion’s mane

    Fear is the godless leer
    Fear is the throaty croon
    Fear is the missing sheep
    Fear is the icy moon

    Fear is the crack of bone
    Fear is the dark unknown
    Fear is the drowning deep
    Fear is the dying moan

    Fear is the perfect line
    Fear is the senseless sign
    Fear is the patterned beep
    Fear is the curving spine

    Fear is inside this yarn
    Fear has knit my rhyme
    Fear oh you fool!
    My will is sharp as knife!

  24. De Jackson

    As Crazy As We’ll Ever Be

    Can you see
    us? Sitting there with the whirl
    -wind in our hair and time to
    spare and the summer stretched
    out long and lean. We’ve

    howled all night at a curious
    moon and danced half
    naked under all this brilliant
    sky and kept ourselves
    from asking any hows
    or whys or whens. We’ve

    cast small spells and watched
    the swells of this gypsy ocean
    anklet our heels with her
    shimmer song. We’ve greeted

    that marigold sun with
    gregarious grins and a pen
    -chant for inappropriate

    And the future seems as close
    as now, and as far off as the
    closest dragon


  25. mayboy

    From Us To You As Me

    As warm as heart
    our life should be,
    to melt the coldness
    of the social fee.

    As far as bird
    could stretch the wings,
    to spread the pulse
    of the vibrating strings.

    As pure as soul
    would face the mold,
    to enrich the raisins
    of an incoming world.

    As hard as way
    it might have been,
    to turn the light
    off the moonlight screen.

    As fresh as air
    our faith shall be,
    to wear it as a gift, thus
    from us to you as me.

  26. Misky

    As Bright as Heaven’s Candle

    My dad always
    left the porch light on for me
    when I’d come home late.
    Mum said it was so I
    didn’t stand on the front steps,
    kissing and
    neckin’ and
    touching, and giving
    the neighbours something
    to yammer and gossip about.
    But I knew better. Dad didn’t care
    about the neighbours;
    he only cared that
    I came back home safe,
    and I reckon God keeps a candle burning
    at heaven’s door for me,
    just like Dad did — waiting
    for my safe return home.

    Bright as heaven’s candle – Beowulf (paraphrased from Beowulf)

        1. tripoet

          Dear PressOn, so kind of you to comment of a incomplete and confusing attempt at a haiku. Thank you. It should have read:

          rogue friends– thick as thieves
          playing with glass crushed on playground
          a small child’s feelings

  27. seamuscorleone

    As Good As New

    The shirt fit me better than perfectly:
    It did not merely hang, but accentuated
    And slimmed.

    I had bought it from a store that sells
    Last years models.
    I did not fully appreciate how
    The thick, soft material hugged my body
    Until I had worn it a few times and was
    Used to it being there for me.

    Then: disaster.

    I pulled it out of the wash and there
    Were dark stains visible against the midnight
    Blue. I could no longer see the shirt without
    Seeing the stains.

    I did not know how the stain got there,
    And I did not know how to get rid of it.
    I tried it all: stain remover, soaking in club soda.
    Nothing worked.

    I tried to find another shirt like it, but could
    Not. All of the shirts I found just did not
    Have the same feel as that first shirt, now

    I want to wear that shirt again as when I first
    Bought it and realized its value. At night, alone
    And naked, I remember that shirt and think of going
    Back to it. But with shirts, at least,
    There is no such thing as
    As good as new.

  28. April_H

    As Near As Need Be

    He turned and tested, adjusted guitar strings
    until he was in tune, or as he said–close enough
    for country. Some who call a mile too near will
    whisper that a breath apart is too far. How do

    you know need from desire? There are no such
    calipers. Borders, once described as from these
    rocks to that old tree, flutter like broken string:
    the rocks are scattered or stacked into walls;

    the tree, lightning-struck or a floor somewhere.
    Briers define our limits now, growing from dust
    and sawdust. They guard heart with thorns,
    tempt with sweet fruit. He said that every time
    he played–close enough for country.

  29. headintheclouds87

    As Peaceful as the River

    I long to emulate
    The simple purity
    So effortlessly shown
    By a peaceful river’s flow.

    To channel it all from
    That great mother source
    In a beautiful unity
    Is an act beyond our mere humanity.

    Life divides us so
    That our origin means little
    In the long eternal battle
    To preserve only one’s self.

    The river holds no such malice
    Merely part of a greater body
    That transcends hate and fear
    Its nature true and clear.

  30. PowerUnit

    As the days turn to nights
    The lights fade to shadows
    So the truth changes
    For those who think
    About as broadly as
    Fishing line of light gauges

    As rain turns to snow
    And water freezes solid
    So convictions firm
    For those who think
    The other side of the coin is as faraway as
    The next presidential term

    As a roar is silenced
    The microphones turned off
    So the communal life drifts
    For those who sink
    Into loneliness as silent as
    The reason for their philanthropic gifts

  31. Connie Peters

    As Old as My Mother

    I’m almost sixty.
    I don’t know why
    I thought I’d never
    get as old as my mother.

    Now, I find myself
    walking around in her body,
    complaining about aches and pains
    and staring at my wrinkly hands.

    I think her thoughts,
    marveling at how quickly
    the weeks go around, wondering
    when my name will be called.

    I don’t worry as much as she did.
    I’m an amateur. She was a professional.
    As a teen, I’d be in bed and through thin walls
    eavesdrop on Dad and Mom worrying

    about who I was out with,
    what we were doing together.
    I’d never tell them there was
    more to worry about than they thought of.

    But with all the things
    my kids told me
    after they were grown,
    yes, I’m as old as my mother.

    1. Bushkill

      Love this. I’m a few years behind, but not many, and a friend of mine and I always remarked about the things we would put in that letter to mom. The one that started: Dear mom, here is a list of all the things I did that you never knew about.

      Loved your poem and the reminiscing it brought me.

  32. taylor graham


    Our homes were paper-built
    so as not to do battle with weather.
    This was wise, as the rain came in water-
    falls fierce as the most beautiful
    mountain that hides its face in cloud
    so as not to dismay us.
    Weather is different now, an ocean
    between. Houses pounded
    together of wood and iron. When the wind
    comes as it must
    it picks them up wholescale
    and sets them down in another place,
    or leaves them here in splinters.
    As it does our selves.
    This unknown place, myself in splinters
    without my language, my weather.
    Where is the summer month of overcast,
    dull gray suit of sky but it
    felt like home. This sky so bladed
    blinding blue with light,
    so staring thirsty. No rain and the
    streams forget to flow.
    My roots are parched and withering.
    I shall not see
    if the trees turn gold in autumn.

  33. Walter J Wojtanik


    As long as you remain in my heart,
    you are never gone. You are
    the one who has brightened my days
    always and in all ways.

    I can never miss you.
    You are never gone. You are
    what a smile is to a bad day
    always and in all ways.

    I hold you here where my heart resides
    deep inside, you are never gone.
    You are the one that had become
    a habit I couldn’t break. It would take

    as long to purge you from that place
    as it would take to traverse space
    and come back here safe and sound. I have found
    the seed you had planted continues to blossom.

    No gloom befalls me. You enthrall me
    as you always have, all way and forever.
    You are never gone, as long as I breathe.
    I believe in the joy of you! It’s true.

    © Walter J. Wojtanik

  34. Walter J Wojtanik


    Make it dark
    and not too thick.
    I want it to warm me,
    not to stick to my ribs.
    No cream.
    No sweetener.
    No mocha-choca-frappa-latte-
    f-in’-chino, Know what I mean?
    Oh, and make it hot.
    Very hot, do not
    hold it between your knees please, hot!
    I’ll take it as hot as I can get it.
    Got it? Start my day the right way.
    A cup of joe, and make it to go!

    © Walter J. Wojtanik

  35. PressOn


    A fellow with nothing to hide,
    or so he says, I can’t abide;
    I find it’s better to trust
    someone with that look in his eye:
    a fellow who tells a good lie
    knows when the truth is a must.


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