Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 428

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Another (blank),” replace the blank with a new word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles include “Another One Bites the Dust,” “Another Silly Love Song,” and/or “Another Reason I Take the Metro.”

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Here’s my attempt at Another Blank Poem:

“Another Word for Loss”

All evening, he won’t listen
or do what he’s told. I say,
“Do this,” and he says, “No.”

Then he throws a pillow
at me. He hits and kicks
until I hold him and ask,

“Why are you doing this?”
He says, “I’m sad about
Kacey,” and breaks into

tears about his Meme’s
dog. “She was always there
that I have been alive.”

And he continues to cry,
and I continue to hold him,
and everything else can wait.

*****

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 doesn’t always know what to say, but he knows how to listen.

Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.

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104 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 428

  1. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    Another Halloween Poem
    By Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    I once carved a poem like you would a pumpkin
    stuck in punctuations where eyes stared out,
    sprinkled alliteration where mouths would be,
    and lit within a stack of metaphors and similes
    to glow and flicker upon my stoop,
    for ghosts and goblins to view and marvel
    and witches cackle amidst the clichés.

    © 2018 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

  2. Bruce Niedt

    [Sorry – last line omitted. Also have posting problems.]

    Another Day at School

    That sound echoing through the halls,
    not laughter, but shots and screams.
    The madness, the monster preying
    on children, the power of hit and miss.
    The barks from a metal barrel,
    the hunger of bullets for young flesh.
    The boundless grief that follows,
    the memory, the nightmares,
    the lives tossed like sand in the wind.
    The urge to shout, No more!
    It is time to turn that power around,
    to drive the evil out,
    to march, to hold accountable,
    to rise against the tyranny of the gun.

  3. Bruce Niedt

    Here’s another poem using the Sunday Whirl weekly word bank: sand, follow, wind, urge, memory, shout, miss, power, hunger, madness, boundless, sound.

    Another Day at School

    That sound echoing through the halls,
    not laughter, but shots and screams.
    The madness, the monster preying
    on children, the power of hit and miss.
    The barks from a metal barrel,
    the hunger of bullets for young flesh.
    The boundless grief that follows,
    the memory, the nightmares,
    the lives tossed like sand in the wind.
    The urge to shout, no more!
    It is time to turn that power around,
    to drive the evil out,
    to march, to hold accountable,

    1. Bruce Niedt

      [Sorry – last line omitted.]

      Another Day at School

      That sound echoing through the halls,
      not laughter, but shots and screams.
      The madness, the monster preying
      on children, the power of hit and miss.
      The barks from a metal barrel,
      the hunger of bullets for young flesh.
      The boundless grief that follows,
      the memory, the nightmares,
      the lives tossed like sand in the wind.
      The urge to shout, No more!
      It is time to turn that power around,
      to drive the evil out,
      to march, to hold accountable,
      to rise against the tyranny of the gun.

  4. Jolly2

    Another Like on Social Media
    By John Yeo

    I put everything I’ve got into this post
    I hope and pray it will go down well.
    One man I know likes everything I do
    I have to look in the mirror and smile.
    Will it, I wonder be polished enough?
    Without Blood, Gore or broken dreams.
    These days anything goes it seems.

    I have so many friends out there in the air
    Sometimes my likes reach double figures.
    I know a man who writes blogs for a living,
    Bares his soul without a care in the world.
    Sadly some people don’t like his views
    Punish him, admire his posts then blank him.
    Without Blood, Gore or broken dreams.
    These days anything goes it seems.

    I put a lot of hard work in a poem once
    Carving the words out of past experience.
    I polished it, honed it and added some gloss.
    Finally I selected an awesome illustration.
    My number one fan said she loved it dearly.
    Even commented with a loving heart.
    Without Blood, Gore or broken dreams.
    These days anything goes it seems.

    I have an old friend who was a talented man,
    He accomplished so much in his lifetime.
    A painter of note and a wordsmith to boot,
    A poet with steams of starmud for thought.
    Yet his talent was unrecognised in his lifetime.
    I can understand this reluctance to like,
    Without Blood, Gore or broken dreams.
    These days anything goes it seems.

    Showing thoughtful appreciation and care
    One little click could create an illusion.
    You know looking back over the years
    Before computers burst onto the scene.
    Many people had little time to spare,
    It was a crazy harsh world we lived in.
    Without Blood, Gore or broken dreams.
    These days anything goes it seems.

    Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

  5. MargoL

    Another time, another place

    Perhaps at another time
    or another place,
    we could have made it work
    just the two of us.

    Another Birthday

    Another birthday has gone by,
    as memories from the past
    fill my thoughts and I say goodbye
    to yet another year.

    Hoping that the next twelve months
    remain positive and well.
    If only for this once
    sorrows could be few.

  6. Walter J Wojtanik

    ANOTHE BLANK AND EMPTY ROOM

    Her vacancy gapes, a stagnant yawn to the afternoon.
    It was once a comfortable room, a place where grace
    and decorum were the norms. But life is rife with storms
    of a virulent nature and relationships sometimes divorce
    themselves from clinging combatants. No drape or curtain
    can hide what is inside… or what it lacks. It comes back
    to the fact that every building has many stories
    and each room therein has a tale to tell as well!
    No one is here to hear her testimony! She is lonely!
    No one is there to know how sun glow warms a decrepit space!

  7. PressOn

    ANOTHER E-MAIL

    Around the world my message goes,
    from azure skies to indigo:
    spanning the ocean’s tidal flows,
    around the world my message goes
    and stops for naught save when my prose
    is caught by spammers spreading woe
    around the world. My message goes
    from azure skies to indigo.

  8. cmariee

    Another drive on a familiar road

    Another drive on a familiar road.
    Where memories take hold.
    Where surnames stay and houses crumble
    Along the back roads.

    My radio shuffles through scenes of nostalgia.
    I am sixteen and my heart beats. It beats and beats and beats.
    But today I keep the windows closed as I sing.
    Up and over back roads.

    Another drive on a familiar road.
    My heart is light, content, and I can breath again.
    The air of responsibility is not as thick and strangling and I feel like staying here.
    And then I look once more.

    The green pizza place is white and boarded up.
    The movie rental shop is two separate apartments. No dogs, no pool.
    The post office has moved.
    My school is gone. Both playgrounds ripped apart for liability.
    The Inn – For sale. My childhood a memory that no one else will have.

    Another drive on a familiar road
    I guess I only have this road.

    Another song of yesterday.
    I guess I won’t be staying long.

  9. Eileen S

    Another School Shooting

    Gun totting guy
    shots go awry
    over supply
    a day at school.

    As bullets fly
    fear in their eyes
    they cannot hide
    action so cruel.

    No eyes are dry
    as classmates die
    carnage can’t lie
    one crazy fool.

    Parents ask why
    in public eye
    tearful goodbye
    tragedy rules.

  10. Tracy Davidson

    Another Sunrise

    I wake to birds
    singing their dawn chorus…
    for a fleeting moment
    I forget my grief

    but

    then I feel
    empty space
    beside me
    and remember

  11. Ann M

    another mud season

    the dripping’s begun
    ice melting on old rose thorns
    puddles seeping into the garage

    the holes in the driveway
    still filled with old weeds
    and i’m the same

    every spring i plan
    to be different – a new
    dress at least

    this morning i order
    two bare-rooted cherry trees.

  12. grcran

    another trip

    with you
    we fly
    i fall
    but not that far
    i mostly soar
    elation
    another trip
    i fall
    i get up
    i mostly soar
    with you
    we fly
    only to phoenix

    gpr crane
    note: this was written on 21 Feb 2018 during turbulence on an actual plane trip from Austin to Phoenix

  13. rlk67

    Another Success!

    I’ve lost two pounds in just ten weeks!
    I feel so thin indeed!
    I’ve gotten half a closet cleaned!
    I’ve really upped my speed!

    I visited my mother for
    the second time this year!
    “See, ma! I really DO love you!”
    “I truly see that, dear.”

    At work, I used to fall asleep
    on long staff meeting days.
    Today I nodded my head twice!
    Don’t I deserve a raise?

    And now another poem made,
    I submit it with much pride!
    When you celebrate successes,
    Then you feel so good inside.

  14. Sara McNulty

    Another Day

    Another day, another shooting
    another casket, another child lost.
    More time wasting, leaders sit disputing.
    Another day, another shooting
    in blood and grief the country is stewing.
    No action taken, look what it’s cost–
    another day, another shooting
    another casket, another child lost.

  15. Daniel Paicopulos

    Another Day, Another Opportunity

    Even when the clouds weep,
    or the earth cries out in pain,
    it is possible
    to love throughout the day,
    to find joy midst the suffering.
    Walking through our world,
    it is possible
    for every living soul
    to express their innate wisdom.
    Acting as harmlessly
    as we know how to be,
    it is possible for each of us
    to practice radical humility.
    No matter our circumstances,
    it is possible
    to shed anger and hate,
    to smother them with
    charity, sympathy, tenderness,
    benevolence, compassion.
    Whatever our needs,
    it is possible
    to notice that what is convenient for us
    is perhaps inconvenient for others.
    Regardless of time,
    It is possible
    to slow down,
    walk more slowly on the earth,
    be healing and strong,
    rejoice in the day.
    It is possible.
    What else are days for?

  16. lsteadly

    Another Day of Bad News

    Another war rages, do people care where?
    Bombed people and buildings, blood everywhere

    Another school shooting, so many lives lost
    Now children must protest no matter the cost

    I pray for real changes, no more assault
    weapons and wrong words must come to a halt

    before another heart stops and another yet another
    woman left standing loses her self as a mother

    (Sorry for the heavy topic- the recent school shooting and the threats of shooters near the high school I work in has deeply saddened me)

  17. SarahLeaSales

    Another Child

    For how could she miss her,
    miss him?
    How could she miss not the one that got away,
    but the one that never was?
    How could she miss these pre-mortal beings
    she called Michael and Madelyn?
    How could she miss this creation of her desire and imagination,
    but not of her body,
    of his?
    How could she miss the little stranger
    who would never nestle in her womb,
    who would never feel the barkless branches
    of the cradle nest of her arms?

  18. Nancy Posey

    Another Rainy Wednesday

    It’a another rainy Wednesday,
    and I watch you maneuver,
    doing the cover and dash,
    splashing through puddles
    laughing while running
    like it’s an Olympic event.

    My favorite Wednesday child,
    you scoff at the rhyme
    that predicts a life
    full of woe.

    I choose joy! you shout,
    somehow sounding more
    like a solemn pledge
    than a bumper sticker.

    And so on this,
    another rainy Wednesday,
    as you choose joy,
    I choose you.

  19. EllaT

    Another February

    gray icy slick of a yard
    glowing blood orange
    in the setting sun

    boots dripping
    salt stained circles
    by the door

    flavourful blandness
    chicken in the crock pot
    air heavily scented

    monotony unbroken
    by weather reports
    or daily ritual

    darkness settled bone deep
    smothering thoughts
    with apathy

    one more week to go…

  20. Jrentler

    another

    not nothing
    just other
    brother kin eyes
    haven’t seen
    what i get
    up to

    & to he
    im infinidude
    snogging & saved
    up to
    his cloud

    my tongue
    a caveman
    fumbling
    for a match

  21. taylor graham

    ANOTHER PERSPECTIVE ON SNOW

    Snowfield below the ridge. Somebody says
    it’s safe, the slope won’t slide. Dogs
    strain against their leads, this is their favorite
    winter sport, digging people out of snow.
    Avalanche training takes a lot of work:
    shoveling the hole, triangulating with a tree,
    a rock, a daypack. Making sure the radios work.
    Designating someone as Lookout, somebody
    else as IT. Nobody wants to be IT. The greenest
    handler – let him learn the lessons of snow –
    and with one last look at daylight, he crawls
    in the hole. Radio check. Shovelers gently
    cover him up with snow. The rest of us
    stomp over snowfield to wipe out prints.
    Someone whistles to the handler waiting
    out of sight with his dog. An exercise in speed
    at finding, the dog digging ecstatically
    for human scent. The greenest handler crawls
    back out, not quite so green, brought
    back to life. So many lessons. Caution,
    respect for snow. Believe Your Dog.

  22. candy

    Another Cloudy Day in Western PA

    I have learned to love the clouds
    Light gray, dark gray
    Wispy, ominous
    Sometimes they are a wooly
    Blanket covering the sky
    At times they line up
    Like children waiting for
    Recess, pushing and shoving
    One another
    They might rush by in a hurry to
    Get to the next town or
    Just hang around for a while
    Waiting for the wind to
    Push them along
    To soak up secrets from
    Another admirer in a far off land
    There is beauty in their forms
    And shapes, their subtle shading,
    Or the way they blush pink in the
    Evening because they’ve hidden
    Sun all day
    I have learned to love the clouds
    And the stories they hold

  23. Anthony94

    Another Love Song

    Checking on the progress
    of the pipeline’s burying
    deeper into fields
    by the big yellow grader
    after years of heaving soil
    rain, frost, plowing

    today the line flags are
    swathed in crystals
    trees become glass
    menageries with every
    blade of grass and barb
    along the fences
    coated in ice

    the low water burbles
    from the two inch rain
    that fell sporadically
    before turning into
    sparkling shafts of light
    in the first sun
    of this late afternoon

    same roads, same ruts
    same woods but even
    the goats know something
    has changed as I take
    another picture
    with my heart.

  24. tripoet

    Another Blank _______ Day

    It’s called putting the blank into the _________
    and you come up with another blank
    ___________ day. Consider the poor
    soul who works the night shift
    at the nursing home for low pay.
    She sleeps her blank _________ day away.
    Consider the single mother with
    three jobs. Her blank __________ day
    never ends; so to survive she pretends
    things will get better; they never do.
    What about the father who works
    to support children he rarely sees?
    Then there’s the alcoholic neighbor who
    feels invisible. Her husband couldn’t see her
    as much to come home to so he left.

    Wish that we could change
    the ________ blanks of others’ lives
    by putting in a good word.

  25. taylor graham

    ANOTHER SPRING

    In this February greenhouse –
    our 5 acres under fitful sun – nothing
    is inactive. As a cold breeze rises
    from the lowlander valley, it gathers
    wild freshness to touch
    each pygmy sprout – oak seedling,
    filaree and chickweed; and
    that delicate lacework which ripens,
    by the justice of full summer,
    to a net of beads with Velcro hooks
    that cling to pantleg and boot-
    lace. Crazy Pan’s wonderland of spring.

  26. PowerUnit

    Every once in a while she will show her face
    Another woman, of serendipitous grace
    As if you hadn’t already drawn an ace
    But of course it’s wrong to trace
    What-ifs to some other time or place
    That she’d also be a blissfuly unaware case
    Whose husband is thinking of wistful prophase
    In his waning years in this space

  27. Heather

    another thought

    It tickles the lobes,
    teases time and space,
    crossing boundaries
    of wish and reality
    repeatedly.
    Sometimes unbidden
    it sneaks in
    on soft, padded feet.
    With no clear start or finish,
    it simply exists
    until it doesn’t,
    remaining a shadow
    of it’s former self.
    Sometimes it comes,
    a roaring engine
    barrelling into view,
    with screaming brakes,
    a giant A-HA!
    It releases steam
    an a stream of cargo
    with questions to unpack.
    Some stomp,
    some wait,
    some creep,
    some sneak,
    but all cross the threshold
    and find their way out.

    ~also published at heatherbutton.com
    (sorry if it posts twice as I thought I did it).

  28. Heather

    another thought

    It tickles the lobes,
    teases time and space,
    crossing boundaries
    of wish and reality
    repeatedly.
    Sometimes unbidden
    it sneaks in
    on soft, padded feet.
    With no clear start or finish,
    it simply exists
    until it doesn’t,
    remaining a shadow
    of it’s former self.
    Sometimes it comes,
    a roaring engine
    barrelling into view,
    with screaming brakes,
    a giant A-HA!
    It releases steam
    an a stream of cargo
    with questions to unpack.
    Some stomp,
    some wait,
    some creep,
    some sneak,
    but all cross the threshold
    and find their way out.

    ~also published at heatherbutton[cot]com

  29. De Jackson

    Another Broken Song

    See,
    this one’s letting a little light
    in through
    the     c    r    a    c    k    s,
    taking back
    some of its former vows
    of silence.

    Slice it quite thin,
    layer in some amber sky
    ;
    you just might find a strain
    or two that’s useful
    for the way
    tomorrow always
    seems to rise
    in too-bright skin.

  30. JRSimmang

    ANOTHER CAN

    On this dusty limn-choked road,
    a can of soda spritely sat.
    A can of tin and nothing more;
    this can had been smushed flat.

    A man with feathers in his hat
    chewed his lip from a bench,
    worked his tongue and toothy grin.
    This man, a dauntless mensch,

    wished for something to simply quench
    his cracked and steaming lips.
    A can, he thought, to carry water,
    water on which to float warships

    (the memory of which does flips
    and rattles in his greying head).
    A glorious can, perhaps once was,
    is just as everything else, now dead.

    Bent and flat, I think instead,
    I’ll find a better vessel.
    This one’s too much like me,
    immovable and sessile.

    He stood, and began to wrestle
    with the notion of defeat,
    when with his foot he struck a chord
    and kicked the can complete-

    ely where it landed to greet
    another can in selfsame shape.
    Dented and confused, it laid
    next to the other cans, dreaming of escape.

    Can upon can, a nightmare can-drape,
    cans upon cans, no reason or plan.
    And passersby, never wince,
    We simply say, “It’s just… another can.”

    -JR Simmang

  31. De Jackson

    Another Triolet {Calling Walter Out To Play}

    Illusions that disillusion beauty’s heart
    are just another thing we’ve got to combat in this life.
    We’re distant and distracted from the start
    by illusions that disillusion beauty’s heart.
    It’s time to play, and poem – part by part
    until we’ve filled the world with reason, rhyme.
    Illusions that disillusion beauty’s heart
    are just another thing we’ve got to combat in this life.

    1. Daniel Paicopulos

      Another City Heard From (while Walter thaws his pen)

      A thought arises, lingers not, departs,
      as our summer too soon becomes the fall.
      This is true in writing, in all the arts.
      A thought arises, lingers not, departs.
      We must soon act on what is in our hearts,
      lest we would forget, lose our soul, our all.
      A thought arises, lingers not, departs,
      as our summer too soon becomes the fall.

    2. Walter J Wojtanik

      LIVE ANOTHER DAY TO TRIOLET

      Just another thing we’ve got to do in this life.
      We struggle to preserve this world for our kids,
      secure our house, our husband , our wife…
      Just another thing we’ve got to do in this life.
      All amid the trouble and strife
      and every discretionary thing we did.
      Just another thing we’ve got to do in this life.
      We struggle to preserve this world for our kids.

      Hope you’re well rested… my resolve has been tested!

      1. De Jackson

        Another Plea for Peace

        We struggle to preserve this world for our kids.
        We hold them close, and pray that kindness rules.
        Maybe they’d be alright, no matter what we did,
        but we struggle to preserve this world for our kids.
        Today can be a troubled place for them to live.
        They hold the future – we just provide the tools.
        We struggle to preserve this world for our kids.
        We hold them close, and pray that kindness rules.

        1. Walter J Wojtanik

          ANOTHER PIECE OF WISDOM

          We hold them close, and pray that kindness rules.
          But in everything we do, they’ll need their space,
          give them the chance after we give them the tools.
          We hold them close, and pray that kindness rules.
          Wisdom might sometimes end their duels,
          and give them a chance to save face.
          We hold them close, and pray that kindness rules.
          But in everything we do, they’ll need their space.

          1. Kateland

            In everything we do, they”ll need their space
            They”ll need time to discover, to find their own place
            A time for love and hopeful dreaming
            In everything we do, they”ll need their space
            We wait for them to come bavk with tales
            Of battles they’ve fought, races they’ve won
            In everything we do, they”ll need their space
            They”ll need time to discover, to find their own place

            Hooe you didn’t mind me chiming in. I like watching your back-and-forths.

          2. De Jackson

            Welcome, Kateland. I shall rift off of yours. 😉

            Another Perspective

            They’ll need time to discover, to find their own place.
            Should we tell them we’re watching, or just let them fall?
            When life sends them troubles, and fear shows its face,
            they’ll need time to discover, to find their own place.
            Perhaps we’re only safety nets, just there to embrace
            and let them know we’ll love them – through it all.
            They’ll need time to discover, to find their own place.
            Should we tell them we’re watching, or just let them fall?

        2. Walter J Wojtanik

          ANOTHER SURVEILANCE

          Should we remind them that we’re watching,
          or would it behoove us to just let them fail?
          It makes me wonder what plans they’re hatching,
          should we remind them that we’re watching?
          And these orders they’re dispatching
          are made less of demand and more surely of wail.
          Should we remind them that we’re watching,
          or would it behoove us to just let them fail?

          1. De Jackson

            Another View

            Would it behoove us to just let them fail?
            We all fall short; everyone knows that.
            Whether scamp or scoundrel, scrub or scale,
            would it behoove us to just let them fail?
            What measurements does life avail?
            And don’t we all – often – fall quite flat?
            Would it behoove us to just let them fail?
            We all fall short; everyone knows that.

          2. Walter J Wojtanik

            ANOTHER LIMITATION

            We all fall short; everyone knows that.
            We come to know our limitations.
            While other poet’s are sitting fat,
            we all fall short; everyone knows that.
            Eventually we’ll come up to bat,
            it all depends on our situations,
            We all fall short; everyone knows that.
            We come to know our limitations.

          3. De Jackson

            Another Poem Fail?

            We come to know our limitations.
            We think, we write, we rest.
            To keep ourselves in circulation,
            we come to know our limitations.
            Sometimes we exceed expectations,
            and other times we’re not quite our best.
            We come to know our limitations
            We think, we write, we rest.

          4. Walter J Wojtanik

            ANOTHER BOUT OF SELF-DOUBT

            We think, we write, we rest.
            We question, we doubt, we fume.
            We’d like to think we do our best,
            We think, we write, we rest.
            The poems buried in our chest
            could spill into adjoining rooms.
            We think, we write, we rest.
            We question, we doubt, we fume.

  32. Connie Peters

    Another Trip of a Lifetime

    Last fall we went to Hawaii.
    Experience was so sublime.
    And I did not expect to get
    another trip of a lifetime.

    But here we go planning again.
    Some may believe it is a crime
    to plan to have so much fun on
    another trip of a lifetime.

    We’re headed for the Emerald Isle.
    And parts of Scotland, we will climb.
    And when we’re done, I’m sure we’ll plan
    another trip of a lifetime.

  33. Kateland

    A day for man

    The morning is bright with chirping cries
    The scent of spring is on the air
    A day for right and new beginning
    A day for man to mend his err’

    A day to rise with hopeful prayer
    A supplication for better ways
    A day to take to calmer season
    To be the director of his own change

    A day to put aside past sorrows
    To look to present, coming light
    A day to cast away all worries
    For future works in today’s glad hands

    A chance is born in every morning
    A dream is awoken at its dawn
    A smile is made on new beginnings
    A man is made who trys again.

  34. Daniel Paicopulos

    Another Elegy

    My readers know the one about
    when I met my long-dead mother,
    how she sent my younger self back,
    work yet to do, no matter
    the pain, no matter the bother.
    This one is not about that,
    it’s brand new, another.

    Most eulogizing poets
    won’t write of themselves,
    they’ll speak of another,
    an old friend, a parent, a sister or brother.
    For me, those lines were written before,
    I don’t feel the need to say anymore.

    Today, I’m inspired to think about me,
    about after I’m gone, how it will be.
    Some friends will cry, others will pray,
    but what will they write, what will they say?
    If anything’s uttered, as my life they recall,
    what I hope that I hear, now above all,
    if I’m able to hear from below or above,
    will be talk of who loved me, and who I did love.

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