Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 452

For today’s prompt, write a game poem. It doesn’t matter what type of game or even if the poem is about the game (vs. just mentioning it), but there are so many possibilities: Board games, sports games, video games, and mental games–just to name a few. I hope you have fun with this week’s poetic game of writing to this prompt.

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Here’s my attempt at a Game Poem:

“classics”

i’ve never done it,
but it would be the classic
move of all the moves:

to have the letters
to spell “classic” and an “s”
between two triple

word scores in scrabble
to spell “classics” as a dou-
ble triple word score.

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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). He usually wins at Scrabble, but he’s never been able to land a double triple word score word.

Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.

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139 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 452

  1. MargoL

    Get back into the game.

    It’s time to get back
    into the game. Time to write
    poetry again.

    Summer was fun, but
    I need to write and feed my
    creativity.

    It’s time to join this
    blog, to hear my voice once more.
    I’m back in the game.

  2. Daniel Paicopulos

    Kansas City Chiefs Fans

    I hope they are
    happy,
    those Kansas City peeps,
    the fly-over fans,
    whose joy I share when
    they trounce the coastals.

    I hope they are
    happy,
    those Kansas City poets,
    the big-hearted writers,
    who sent me off to
    Veterans Voices.

    I hope they are
    happy,
    those generous readers,
    that their gift made me
    happy,
    soon published, and then
    again, and again.

  3. PressOn

    THE UMP COUNSELS THE ROOKIE

    I understand that you are bothered
    because I called you out on strikes;
    this made you irritated
    and exasperated,
    so you threw your bat.
    If it comes down,
    you are out
    of the
    game.

  4. grcran

    the tgif game

    We drink Synapses shrink Liver cells die
    T G I F Some game Some claim to fame
    And doing this we kiss of death tenth frame
    We bowl for nine strikes Out Unperfect try

    With brain on auto-stifle mad sad scream
    Pretend we entered someone else’s dream
    We play T G I F X-games supreme

    gpr crane

  5. headintheclouds87

    Escape to the Game

    Discovering other worlds
    Uncovering their mysteries
    And controlling destinies
    With simple button presses;
    These are the simple reasons
    I so often escape
    To the idyllic carefree space
    Offered by a video game.

    Sprawling fields and green hills
    Leading to secluded villages
    In the shadow of starlit cities
    The setting of an epic journey
    Wrapped in an idealised reality
    With clear goal and ending
    Unlike the harsh uncertainty
    That real life can bring.

    Give me labyrinths to dive into
    Over the everyday mundanity
    Of the outer realm around me
    Take me away to moonlight bays
    And dark worlds draped in chaos
    I’d rather complete epic quests
    Than bear life’s futile tests
    (If time was at my behest).

    I’d take a game
    Any day
    Over the tedium
    Of this mortal plane.

  6. Troy DeFrates

    Rock-Paper-Scissors

    Rock-Paper-Scissors, solves all issues
    there is no ambiguity, there is no doubt
    upon a tie the opponents re-issue
    a new attempt for the loser to pout.

    Rock smashes scissors you can see
    scissors cut paper for you and me
    paper wraps rock, pretty as can be
    removing all stalemates so we can be free.

    One-Two-Three let’s Go-!
    hitting our palms for the other to show
    looking eye to eye so you cannot cheat
    the odds are completely fair for you to be beat.

    No more argument, no more fuss
    the winner gets the front seat while the loser does cuss
    why did I go paper for the rock to be bound?
    I know they always do scissors in the final round.

  7. belovedfranklin

    Just for fun:

    I went to the club to find some jacks
    Instead I found the queen of hearts
    Crying diamonds into her shoes
    The king left her without a spade
    Cheer up, said I. Let’s find some jacks.
    Look for pairs and straights. If that fails,
    Try the club where comedy’s king
    All is fun, and Jokers are wild.
    Be careful to heed midnight’s call
    Back in the deck, aces in the hole
    Darlene Franklin

  8. AsWritten

    THE GAME OF LIFE

    The way to tell if you have won
    is to win first and then predict it.

    Fortune favors the weak.
    And fortunately, I’m weak.

    And you are too.

    We all win.

  9. mayboy

    Mega game

    For some, it’s just a game,
    for me, it’s more than a play,
    even if you never stand to gain.

    For me, it is the expectation,
    tackling the limits of our mind
    and body, learning, mindblowing.

    Winning, losing, what’s the point?
    Participate in the never-ending twist
    of brain games & the mega ticket faith.

  10. PowerUnit

    Round and Round

    It’s all just a circus
    His shaking head
    Won’t help that ne driver
    Back in his trailer
    Snug to the shed

    Moving product and materials
    For profit, for gain
    Is no day in the park
    A driver two weeks
    On the road in no game

    We train them hard
    For driving down the road
    Chicago to Anaheim
    To get there on time
    And pick up the next load

    We won’t pay them much
    Not what they’re worth
    The driver in the middle
    The buyer and seller riddle
    Always tightening his girth

  11. brokenlens

    Summer Dice

    Summer heat hot on my feet
    staring at the skyline in the distance
    surrounded by beautiful urban decay

    the sound of the summer dice stumbling across the concrete,
    bouncing to the sound of music, vibrating lively through the soul

    the sound of summer dice stumbling across the concrete
    I can still feel the hair on my neck rise a I regain focus

    money ruffling through the summer breeze

    The sound of summer dice stumbling across the concrete,
    gambling away our hopes and dreams

  12. De Jackson

    of thrones

    we reign and roam
    in intricate stone
    -faced poker skies.

    you raise; i’ll fold
    my hands and praise
    the storms that rise.

    we deal and dwell
    in joy that’s spelled
    in sorrow’s songs.

    you show; i’ll tell
    the world to play,
    before tomorrow’s gone.

    ::

  13. Ms.Jenny

    It was just a game of hopscotch,
    sketched on the sidewalk
    with Crayola’s finest 120 pack.
    I chose red and you picked blue
    and we drew the boxes,
    filled them up with numbers
    one to ten. And then we threw
    our rocks. Hopped the numbers
    up and back again.

    His voice bellowed out, “What the hell
    do you think you are doing?”
    The game cut short, his size 12 shoe
    scattering the rocks with a kick.
    My six-year-old eyes darting
    down to our masterpiece with
    tears pooling in the corners
    of my fear-filled eyes.
    “Clean that mess up. Now.”

    We were just playing house
    fetching the bucket and filling
    it with water. Pouring in soap
    until the bubbles nearly overflowed.
    On our knees in summer the
    sidewalk blistering our tender knees,
    scrubbing the game away until
    only a faded outline
    remained as a reminder.

  14. Sara McNulty

    Are You Game?

    Come
    on
    chance it–
    a coffee
    small chat in public.
    What can happen in a café?
    Okay no personal questions. A simple request.
    Let us talk books and movies. We may have likes and dislikes in common. Why not find out?
    Tell me what sort of humor makes you laugh–pratfall, goofball, dry, wry, sarcasm, or dark.
    Do you enjoy a mystery, history, romance?
    Are you into sports, favorite teams?
    No. I’m in rehab,
    don’t do drugs.
    Better
    take
    leave.

  15. Cam Yee

    Tournament

    Damn.
    It’s just a game.
    No one needs to die.
    Why

    Did you bring a gun
    to a game?
    Was that the only
    way to win?
    Was your body
    on the ground
    compounded
    by the bodies
    that surrounded
    You?

    Did that bring you
    Victory?

    Was it because you lost
    that you did this?
    Was it because you lost
    that you died?
    There are other ways
    to handle
    Loss.
    Those you left behind
    would show you
    if they could.
    Those who lie beside you
    would show you
    if they could.

  16. Cam Yee

    Age v. Adolescence

    How old were you?
    When you beat me at chess?
    I don’t remember it at all, it slipped my mind,
    just another loss in a long list of losses,
    another failure in a field full of failures.

    But you, you hold that memory tight to your heart like a treasure
    that you stole from me with nimble fingers
    and nimbler mind
    and all these years later there is still triumph
    in your voice when you remind me
    how my king lay vanquished on the black square
    where I had thought him safe

  17. takikoazn

    Word

    Fire sirens blare
    Around the stage
    As I glide
    into place.
    “Choose your weapons.”

    Achilles draws steel.
    Thor twists Mjolnir.
    Ron, a wand.
    I, a quill
    With ink, onyx black.

    With strokes of purpose,
    Nations crumbled.
    Accords formed.
    Lives dissolved.
    Souls acquitted.

    That is the power of word.
    That is the substance of magic.
    That is the record of sound.

  18. Daniel Paicopulos

    Looney Tunes

    When we were kids,
    we were oh so serious
    about playing war.
    We had the leftover helmets
    from the big war
    our fathers lived through,
    the one some of them survived.
    A few of us had Red Ryder BB guns,
    a misfit for our silly games,
    but more real than the sticks
    the rest of us carried.

    When we were teens,
    some of us in our twenties,
    we were still kids,
    even though we thought
    we were men,
    just because we were
    far from home.
    Some of us thought
    we were still playing war,
    though most of us knew
    it was a deadly serious sport.

    Now that we are old,
    we know how foolish we were.
    How silly of us
    to think that any of it
    was ever a game.

  19. connielpeters

    Why I Play Games with My Kids

    Our growing up years, we played lots of games:
    Croquet, badminton, ball and hide and seek.
    All kinds of games in yards, or woods or creek.
    Indoors, we played board games with many names.
    Of fun but useless skills, we made some claims.
    But Mom and Dad worked hard throughout the week.
    So playing games to them?—like speaking Greek.
    One visit, Mom played Scrabble there with me.
    Becoming such a treasured memory.

  20. taylor graham

    WINDFALL GAMES

    The schoolkids are taking a field trip,
    playing the Gold Rush game. Gathered in
    an old historic schoolhouse, they draw luck
    from a bag. Each child has a poke of gold-
    painted pebbles; a poke that swells or
    diminishes by windfall or misfortune, things
    that might befall a miner: finding a gold
    nugget while sweeping the saloon floor; or
    getting sick from eating a bad piece of meat.
    The kids have safe lunches in bags.
    They’re having a blast. After the pebble-
    fortune game they’ll hike an eco-center trail
    along a creek where they’ll pan for gold.
    They’ll quit before the panning gets too
    tedious. A golden-yellow schoolbus
    is waiting already to take them home.

  21. deringer1

    The Game

    I was never one for a game.
    Table, perhaps, but not court.

    Still, life always plays games,
    surprising me with joy

    and sometimes sorrow or loss
    while I play defense.

    No one ever wins,
    but we become better players

    so that when the game is over
    someone will say, “Well done!”

  22. tripoet

    My Best Friend’s Got Game

    She always swears she’s not competitive.
    Oh my, though, does she compete.
    Time with her means I’ll need a sedative.
    Cuz, girl likes to bring the heat.

  23. LeeAnne Ellyett

    Games

    Every game
    has a winner,
    and a loser,

    a first place,
    a last place,

    highest score,
    lowest score,

    that’s why I like tennis,
    game, set, match…LOVE

  24. Christopher Allen

    Formative years gone
    But oh weren’t times grand
    She and I embracing
    Fumbling hand in hand

    Awkward glance at school
    As we pass between bells
    Your first, my first
    A secret not to tell

    Raging separately yet in union
    Our special nook awaits
    Etch our names on wall
    Heaven knows no finer place.

  25. Eileen Sateriale

    Champions

    two women volleyball team
    today final match
    unbeaten Japanese team
    American team unbeaten

    points won by one team
    answered by the other team
    scoring goes
    back and forth

    American player makes save as
    feather blows in her face
    ball lands barely over the net
    just one more point needed

    American team serves
    Japanese player sneezes
    as she attempts the return
    ball goes into net
    American victory

  26. Jane Shlensky

    More than Ready

    I call her sometimes when I need a friend,
    a plus one lark to see or be or do,
    and ask, “Would you be game to–”
    when she interrupts. “Just let me get
    my shoes on and feed the cat,” she says.

  27. Anthony94

    Not a Player

    They made up the game
    this catching of crickets
    the bringing of pencil thin
    ring-necked snakes with
    their single orange collars

    how they writhed so delightfully
    at the feet of the three felines
    whose plunder included the odd
    rabbit, the shrew with needle-like
    incisors that left the bringers
    undaunted, the unwary vole

    how the kittens leaped with mock
    ferocity at butterflies dipping
    into the zinnias but somehow
    knew the game would be up

    if they batted the three-inch
    argiope suspended above
    her white Zzzzs between
    peeling porch spindles

    eight legs extended outward
    from her golden body she had
    immunity from nipping and pawing
    always sat out her hand

  28. taylor graham

    GUESSING GAME

    The last trail dust stomped out, the last
    gray-water wrung from a rag; breath caught,
    and they leave the lone rock circle to its stories –
    stones as round as a miller’s wishes
    that point them toward the next target –
    a benchmark overlooking dry valley, alluvial
    curtains of sand. Left to imagination:
    what’s to be discovered; high or six feet under?
    The allure, the mystery keeps them going.
    Will they find it? when? The calendar is mum.

  29. julie e.

    Call it what it is

    What’s the name of the game?
    I think it was Control, or maybe Power,
    or maybe both
    Does it mean anything to you?
    that I thought the game was love
    thought we were in love
    What’s the name of the game?
    Did you know from the first I
    was doomed
    Can you feel it the way I do?
    the pain of letting go of what
    I thought was real,
    wasn’t really love

    (can you tell I recently saw the Abba movie?)

    1. Poetjo

      This is wonderful and illustrates beautifully an unbalanced relationship where one person thought it was about love and the other thought it was about power and control – very well written!

  30. Daniel Paicopulos

    The Long Game

    How long does it take,
    I wonder,
    for a war to become
    a tourist attraction?
    What’s the rotation time,
    I ponder,
    for foxholes to fill in,
    become reconciled with villages?
    How drawn out the years,
    I muse,
    before land-mined rice paddies
    return to a timeless Shangri-La?
    For the Vietnamese,
    far removed from the American War,
    time is not the issue,
    as they play the long game.
    But looking ahead,
    turning forward,
    how long will it take
    before the tourists become
    an even bigger enemy?

    1. Eileen Sateriale

      Times have changed. My daughter and her husband went to Vietnam on their honeymoon. When they came home I said, ” I can now sleep knowing that you are home from “Nam.”

    2. LeeAnne Ellyett

      Lately I’ve been reading a lot about the concentration camps and the pain and suffering of many women, who were experimented on. They called them the “Rabbits”. The camps still stand, a silent reminder of the unforgivable.
      I hope not for tourists, but families of survivors and to educate.

  31. Walter J Wojtanik

    IF YOU CAN DODGE A WRENCH…

    I grew up a stooge.
    I had Moe’s haircut
    and I got into trouble
    when I’d double-up my fingers
    to poke my brother’s eyes.
    I learned the trick watching
    slapstick comedy. Aim for the brows
    and hope he doesn’t flinch.
    After the first time, he never did.
    I hid my love for being a physical joker,
    faux eye poker for years. But my greatest
    fears were exposed when I chose to watch
    “Dodgeball”. A madman throwing wrenches
    as a training tool? The only fool
    was the guy that didn’t duck.
    “If you can dodge a wrench,
    you can dodge a dodgeball!”
    An involuntary belly laugh every time
    I heard it chime off of the man’s head.
    You’d think he’d learn after the first time.

  32. Walter J Wojtanik

    WHAT’S THE DEAL?

    You’ve played the gambit
    and the gamut of games
    has your head stealing
    a breath or two as you
    prepare for the next round.

    You’ve found that you are
    less of a player than a heart slayer
    as you lay your cards on the table.
    You’re able to hide your poker
    face, a grace you’ve been given.

    You’ve got a hand that would stand
    up to any, and many have bluffed
    with less. It is best if you go
    all in to try and win her heart,
    for you know it is all a part of the game.

    You’re down to your last few chips
    and you’d be a monkey’s uncle
    if your ante leaves you broken.
    They’re only tokens anyway,
    it just depends on how you play.

  33. k weber

    No Clue

    I’ve tried not to live
    Life in a bubble
    of Pop-O-Matic
    proportions.

    But when someone
    (Guess Who?) pushes
    me and the dice
    determine everything,

    I Go Fish elsewhere.
    I am not the Old Maid
    I was when I was young.
    Time to take this Risk.

    I am distancing from our Family
    Feud and bypassing The Dating
    Game and forging a Love
    Connection with myself.

    *** friends, i have a new book of poems. it’s online along with my other books. all free. click on my name at the beginning of my post to see! (this is the only time i will mention it here so i am not spamming). thanks for all the support here!

  34. belovedfranklin

    For the Love of the Game
    I took the kids to watch the Rockies play
    Balls flew into sunsets over mountains
    Counted home runs hit by summer’s big men
    Miracles hidden in thin air relays
    Score didn’t dampen the joy of the day
    Cracker jacks and pistachios to munch
    On boring stats and pretzel sticks we’d crunch
    Those days are gone but never forgotten

    1. k weber

      i love these memories in vivid imagery. even the “boring stats” seem like a treasure when reflecting back! i definitely heard a little “take me out to the ballgame” while reading this!

  35. Poetjo

    End Game

    My father
    thought
    child
    abuse
    was
    some
    sort of
    sick
    game
    when
    my
    brothers
    and I
    were
    kids.

    He set
    the rules,
    changed them
    when he felt
    like it
    and
    always
    won.

    He forgot
    that we
    would
    grow up
    and
    finally
    have
    the
    power
    to change
    the
    rules.

    Now he
    lives all
    alone,
    struggling
    to
    accept
    that
    our
    new
    rule
    is that
    he’ll
    never
    hurt
    any
    of us
    again
    and that
    saying
    goodbye
    to him
    over
    30
    years ago
    was the
    only way
    to
    end
    his
    game
    forever.

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