2019 April PAD Challenge: Day 15

Half. Way. There. It’s all downhill from here.

For today’s prompt, write a prediction poem. Make a prediction. Write about another person’s correct or incorrect prediction. Or, you know, be unpredictable.


Poem Your Days Away!

Online poetry prompts are great! But where can you get your poem fix when you unplug? The answer is the Smash Poetry Journal, by Robert Lee Brewer.

This book collects 125 poetry prompts from the Poetic Asides blog, gives poets plenty of room to write poems, and a lot of other great poetic information. Perfectly sized to carry in a backpack or purse, you can jot down ideas for poems as you’re waiting in line for a morning coffee or take it to the park for a breezy afternoon writing session (or on a bus, at a laundromat, or about anywhere else you can imagine–except under water, unless you’re in a submarine or a giant breathable plastic bubble).

Anyway, it’s great for prompting poems, and you should order a copy today. (Maybe order an extra one as a gift for a friend.)

Click to continue.


Here’s my attempt at a Prediction Poem:

“the problem with trying to forecast the future”

I haven’t been putting off
that one thing because it’s
difficult but because it’s
difficult to think about
what comes after.


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 always feels like his predictions are the best, but they’re actually predictably average. Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.

245 thoughts on “2019 April PAD Challenge: Day 15

  1. Avatartimphilippart

    Sealed Predictions

    Used to be
    an apothecary store
    in Mulkeyville.
    Dust grew by layers,
    on the cantilevered shelves since
    the ancient pharmacist died
    fifteen years ago,
    to the day,
    on the day of the auction.
    Eight dollars from mowing yards
    burned a hole in my pocket but,
    I didn’t want to blow it so,
    I kept watch for a bargain.
    The last item up for bid
    had caught my eye —
    a box,
    still sealed.
    I thumbed the grime away and,
    saw it said, “Predictions.”
    A box of predictions,
    sealed with a gold embossed stamp,
    “Protected By Magic.”
    The last item up for bid when,
    nearly everyone had wandered off,
    the auctioneer cried , “Take it for $2 and we’re done.”
    My hand fired up but before I could grab it,
    a faceful of wrinkles with a hat nearly over his eyes growled $3.
    When I said $8 those left in crowd rumbled,
    “Let the kid have it.”
    Eyes under the hat flashed yellow and,
    the old man skulked away.
    Now, five decades later,
    I finger the unopened box and
    figure now is the time, if ever,
    to ignore the fine print on the back of the box,
    which appeared the first time I touched it
    “When you open this,
    the predictions will all come true,

  2. AvatarCandace

    Sick Day

    Sniffles have morphed into
    A mysterious sore throat and
    Random whining – prompting a
    Day home from school
    I sagely predict that as soon
    As that yellow bus leaves our
    Street a miraculous healing
    Will have occurred

  3. AvatarJolly2

    by John and Margaret Yeo

    The Weather forecast is dire;                  
     I am sure the weather will get better:
    Continual rain will never stop;              
    We will probably not get a drop:

    The crops will fail, we are set to starve;
    The predictions are overstated:
    Global warming is taking its toll;
    We will all eat well and survive on a roll:

    The world will become a gigantic desert;
    Our scientists are all very clever:
    The soil will dry and become sand;
    They will find ways to make a stand:

    The oil will run out, we will grind to a halt;
    We will discover new fuels to survive:
    The Earth will become dust with millions hungry;
    New foods will arrive to feed our young:

    An asteroid will collide and wipe us out;
    We will all take a trip to outer Space:
    Our people need to cling to pessimism;
    We will all survive on our innate optimism:

    For every pessimist there is an optimist.

    © Written by John and Margaret Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

  4. AvatarMari Weiss

    — I thought I’d try a tritina! —

    Tense Past
    (The Best is Yet to Come!)

    Someone tried to tell me how to live.
    He told me I should not live in the past,
    because, he said, the bad times should not last.

    At length I pondered this and then at last
    realized that the future does not live
    until it someday also is the past!

    To live as though we do not need the past
    excludes the good times we would want to last!
    Now I choose a better way to live:

    I live in the past because I save the best for last!

  5. AvatarMonique

    How I Saw The Future
    (Jane’s Prediction)

    I never wanted the life I was born into
    One where I lived between two worlds
    Baking pies and playing tag in the morning
    Martial arts and ambush tactics at night.

    I saw my future as soon as my father died
    My life would be nothing but death and destruction
    Playing the part of the perfect student,
    Not knowing if I would live to see another day.

    Was it wrong to wish for a different future?
    To maybe grow out of the family business?
    As long as there were others who could fight,
    why do I have to be a part of any of this?

    I could bide my time, find a replacement,
    then live a life I can actually call my own.
    No long walks through cemeteries at night
    No more losing people I know and love.

    I see my perfect future as being simple,
    married to the man I’ve loved all my life,
    living in a house far from the city
    baking pies and raising children,

    Or that was what I thought before…
    It seems like I keep losing people.
    The one I loved all my life
    has given into the demons of the night.

    Now I have no idea what lies ahead
    All I have left is my family, my experience,
    and a guy I can’t really call a “friend.”
    But these people are all I have.

  6. AvatarMichelle Hed

    Predilections for Predictions

    She had a predilection
    for making predictions
    and she was always precise
    in her particular
    ruminations, personifying
    her predictions
    with phantasmagorical
    imagery and pieces
    of logic which defies practically
    all reasonable arguments and platitudes
    fall flat and sound like prevarications
    when people
    try to compliment her predictions
    but she just smiles and playfully
    but politely
    turns their less than stellar praise
    into possibly
    the nicest phenomenon
    of twisted compliments and precociousness
    which leaves the people
    complimenting her precariously
    confused but personally
    satisfied that they have made a profound
    difference and everyone departs perfectly
    amicably and feeling peaceful
    and a bit proud
    of their turn of phrase.

  7. AvatarKM

    I predict a riot*

    One day until the election.
    I’ve stopped reading poll results,
    stopped making mental counts of
    the election signs in my neighbourhood.
    Stopped listening to reporters, pundits, soothsayers.
    Who was it that said that the wisest among us
    are usually silent?

    I put on a music instead. Brit rock.
    Not London Calling, but somewhere familiar.
    Somewhere where they understand the frustration
    of the common masses, tired of what really trickles down.
    But this song is so bouncy,
    makes me want to dance, not revolt.
    On a day like today — cool, grey,
    trees still stark and stiff from winter,
    I could use a dance infusion.
    Want to be moved to move
    and not strain my thoughts
    about why people believe what they do.
    Why money is more valuable than care.
    Why I still tell my kids to behave, be responsible
    when what the world needs
    now is lassies and lads getting lairy, sweet lairy.

    *With thanks to Kaiser Chiefs for the title and inspiration

    – Kim Mannix

  8. AvatarAnthony94

    Impossible to Predict

    with what cunning speed
    the fire would race across
    acres pushed by a west wind

    first smoke on the horizon and
    then towering flames as
    cedar by cedar ignited
    infernos of oil and resin

    calls to the rural fire department
    brought truck after truck and yet
    it seemed too slow as winds danced

    and embers ignited last year’s dry
    brome, switchgrass, flames rolling ever closer
    horses already snorting one pasture over

    two hours later firemen traveling
    in their Gators beat out hot spots
    with metal brooms, sprayed water

    beneath trees where twigs bunched
    against smoldering trunks, to finally
    all disperse, men and women giving

    up their Palm Sunday afternoon to
    beat a demon of unknown origin;
    tomorrow rain, and a new cycle begins,
    the greening within the week predictable.

  9. AvatarEarl Parsons

    I Predict…

    I predict the day will come
    When all mankind with think as one
    When no more sin or pain will be
    A time of love for you and me

    I predict His triumphant return
    When all mankind will finally learn
    That the Bible has always been right
    The Son of God will win the fight

    I predict that we will all see
    Every last person take a knee
    And confess that Christ is King
    As He’s been since the beginning

    I predict many will lament
    They rejected The Heaven Sent
    For eternity is real
    Satan’s lies your soul did steal

    I predict that Judgment Day
    It will be too late to say
    Suddenly that you believe
    Do so now or take your leave

    © 2019 Earl Parsons

  10. AvatarDaniel Paicopulos


    Approaching sunset now, the dawn
    too many years behind. The night
    waits, lingering behind the evening star.
    It was noon a mere while ago,
    brightly shining with hope,
    plans made with future surety,
    more time than dreams to fill it.
    Time spent seems but trumpery
    when placed beside time remaining,
    too much wastage, squandered
    could haves, elusive promises.
    Five or seven friends yet remain,
    a thousand cronies gone the way of fumes,
    still time for eight or nine, likely no more.
    Poems have always seemed like
    words in flight, now more earthly,
    too often murky, poets in high dudgeon,
    even as they confuse sunset for the dawn.
    Still, there’s work to do.
    Also time to do it.
    Living in the past yields little that is good,
    mostly excuses, redrafted memories and
    rust-pitted trophies.
    Future has a sense of promise, of mission,
    though too many maybe’s as well.
    What’s left is now,
    today, this moment, as the sun sets,
    dawn and dark of night
    the same gift of opportunity,
    like a poem,
    somewhere between a dream and a nightmare.

  11. AvatarMMC

    I Predict

    that the field of endless candidates
    will winnow itself to the usual: one
    Republican, one Democrat, one Green
    Party, one Libertarian, and maybe
    One Socialist or Independent.

    Wouldn’t it be wonderful
    if we could have a coalition government
    and maybe even find a way
    (while honoring the Constitution)
    to have consensus be the standard

    for legislative efforts?
    On the other hand, as long as
    we’re dreaming, maybe
    there’s a way to have world
    government that actually works

    to govern a cohesive world.

  12. Avatarmaxie409

    Don’t Bet on It

    It’ll never last, they said.
    Six months tops, they predicted.
    Oh, she’s too flighty.
    He’s such a Casanova.
    And yet here we are,
    thirty-eight years later,
    still proving them wrong.

    1. AvatarMET

      I love this… my mother took a risk marrying my father… son of an alcoholic and a murderer… but she did … and they had 51 years before he died. She believed in the man not what others saw

  13. Avatarserenevannoy

    Return to the Fortune-teller’s Tent

    The tents look ragged to her now,
    red stripes faded to pink,
    white stripes a dingy gray,
    and she isn’t sure if they were always
    like that, or if her childhood memory
    is right, that the red and white popped
    with vibrant excitement.

    This could be the same circus,
    the one that came through town
    early every fall. She imagines
    the ringmaster, old even back then,
    stooped and bent, in his nineties,
    still running the show, calling your attention
    to the center of the ring, where
    arthritic horses and riders canter
    or try to, and the acrobats
    are getting Medicare.

    There is one tent that is not red and white —
    or, rather, pink and gray —
    but a brilliant purple, unfaded,
    with a golden knob at its peak,
    and a golden zipper on the front flap door,
    behind which the fortune-teller sits,
    and she remembers her little-girl hand
    in the old-woman hand
    (she is pretty sure the woman was not old,
    but she was a little girl, and all adults
    are old to a little girl).
    She had paid fifty cents to find out
    if her life would be happy
    or a series of little disasters
    or one big one, to send her reeling into oblivion,
    and she remembers how it felt to hold her breath
    and wait for her future.

    She feels drawn, now, to the tent,
    the purple one that looks untouched by time,
    or cynicism,
    that matches the one she sat in at seven,
    at eight,
    at ten twelve fifteen,
    long past when her friends had stopped going,
    every year hoping
    for another answer,
    something more exciting,
    or less vague,
    but every year, she received the same fortune,
    until at sixteen, she stopped going,
    sneering that the woman probably gave everyone
    the same future,
    in this damn town, where no one knew better.
    Her friends asked her what the woman had said.
    She didn’t have the courage to say.
    What if that ruined it? What if theirs weren’t the same?

    The weird thing is that she doesn’t remember
    the details of the thing,
    the nitty-gritty of her annual telling,
    even though she strains to bring it to mind.
    All she can recall is her vague dissatisfaction,
    the feeling that there must be more.

    Her hand is on the tentflap. She stops and straightens her skirt,
    breathes in a shaky lungful of popcorn-scented air,
    has one of those B-movie flashbacks where she examines
    what is examinable of her life.
    She sees the longing and need for more
    as the central thread of her life,
    sees how it propels her,
    moves her forward,
    makes her want to make something happen.

    At the last minute, she turns,
    walks away from the tent,
    breathes in her future,
    which is hers now,
    and only hers.

  14. AvatarJennifer

    The Future According to Medicine

    “Everyone’s going to die,” the Doc said,
    “The goal is to put it off for as long as possible.”
    I felt alarmed.
    “Is it imminent?” I asked.
    “No,” he said. “But take these.”
    He wrote me prescriptions for three new meds,
    smiled and shook my hand.
    “Good to see you.”
    “Likewise,” I said, wondering if I meant it.
    He may have caught my drift.
    “I’m going to die, too,” he assured me
    as he went out the door.


  15. AvatarMET

    Prediction- It is not easy to change

    There is a belief
    That previous behavior
    Will predict future behavior….
    Unless the person changes…

    I got a fortune cookie
    That was not what I expected…
    I expected something light hearted,
    But instead I got
    “Things are about to change-
    Embrace the change.”
    I thought
    Did that cookie know
    Something I did not know, but
    Then Life always changes…
    Not a prediction
    Just the way it is.

    But the odd thing was
    I am trying to change
    Simplify my life…
    Rid myself of stuff
    That I have been clinging
    That does not bring me joy,
    And has no purpose.

    I am trying to organize those
    Bits of things Ma saved
    News clippings, letters, and
    Cards from those who loved her.
    But she also saved odd things
    Like plastic containers-
    Those I parted with years ago.
    Poems my father wrote…
    Many in his nearly illegible hand.

    I want to live simply…
    But I am finding change
    Is not easy…
    For each piece I part with
    Is a piece of me…
    That I really shouldn’t keep either.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    April 15, 2019

  16. Avatarannell


    Predictions are not my game
    Except in the winter
    Every day I predict snow
    Sometimes I am right

    At the beginning of the year
    The numbers 2458 appeared
    The “winds” had changed direction
    What did the numbers mean?

    I asked for your help
    You responded with many options
    But said, “In late February or early March
    Something will fall into place, you will know”

    Hindsight is clear
    Number “2” has to do with” soul mission and life purpose”
    Number “4” has to do with” application, and hard work”
    Number “5” has to do with” important changes”
    Number “8” has to do with” giving and receiving, inner-wisdom and intelligence”

    Late February or early March
    Came and went
    I still wasn’t sure…
    Sometime later, I knew

    Though I was not sure
    I had the right words
    I was very sure
    About the direction of the “wind”

    April 15, 2019

  17. AvatarWalter J Wojtanik

    NEVER SAW IT COMING, by Walter J Wojtanik

    Things were swimming along as normal as possible.
    (Normal for me anyway, which isn’t saying much)
    I awoke from a restful sleep, and in keeping
    with karma’s bad timing, rising an hour before
    my alarm would call. All in all, a decent start.
    A “sleepwalk” to pause and relieve in hopes
    of retrieving that last hour.
    Never in my heart would I have guessed
    my life would be messed up from that moment on.
    On my return stroll, I would fall. Balance gone
    and head mired and confused, pained
    and drained of all thought. I ought to have
    been able to become stable, but no such luck.
    Felt as if a truck had squashed my cranium.
    In my delirium, all sense of logic abandoned me.
    The second episode in six months, no joke,
    suffering from a series of mini-strokes.
    Office visits and constant pokes by medical
    geniuses continue to this day. My words
    have made a comeback less slurred,
    at lest for a while. I smile and take some comfort.
    Imbalanced, dizzy, fuzzy, dealing with vertigo,
    tinnitus and migraines straining my brain,
    it’s a wonder I can still find the mind to rhyme.
    Never saw it coming. No prediction
    of my affliction. A wake up call for sure.
    Until then, I’ll wax poetic in hopes they find a cure.

  18. AvatarTaruchaya


    The day perspires in the blazing sun.
    Green leaves dry up into brown.
    Thirsty pond – fishes on the run.
    The fading flowers have a frown.

    The dusk brings kisses of summer breeze.
    The grass heaves a sigh of relief.
    The moon smiles – stars get at ease.
    The comes the pompous thunderous thief.

    It breaks into the broody ashen sky.
    Shards of lightning fracture and fall.
    Steals the gems from the clouds silver and shy.
    And unleashes a sudden rainy squall.

    The best thing about Nature
    is it’s unpredictable power.
    Breathe – stop anticipating the future.
    Rejoice every minute…every hour.

    1. AvatarTaruchaya



      The day perspires in the blazing sun.
      Green leaves dry up into brown.
      Thirsty pond – fishes on the run.
      The fading flowers have a frown.

      The dusk brings kisses of summer breeze.
      The grass heaves a sigh of relief.
      The moon smiles – stars get at ease.
      Then comes the pompous thunderous thief.

      It breaks into the broody ashen sky.
      Shards of lightning fracture and fall.
      Steals the gems from the clouds silver and shy.
      And unleashes a sudden rainy squall.

      The best thing about Nature
      is it’s unpredictable power.
      Breathe – stop anticipating the future.
      Rejoice every minute…every hour.

  19. AvatarMET

    My prediction for today

    I know I will get robocalls
    From someone named
    Unnamed Caller…
    Who will hang-up
    When I don’t answer
    Which will be a scammer
    Or some poor
    Unknown schmuck
    Out there somewhere
    Trying to make a few bucks
    Doing a job that they hate
    Or maybe not…
    But I will
    Look at whose calling,
    Roll my eyes,
    And pity them.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    April 15, 2019

  20. AvatarMichele Brenton

    This prompt is a tricky one for me because I had a long hiatus in my poetry writing precisely because I was seeing a tendency for poems I wrote to end up being prophetic and it scared me so much I stopped writing in case I was somehow causing things to happen.

    I’ve mostly got over that magical thinking and this year’s April PAD has been instrumental in helping me get there.

    So here’s my poem and in this case I hope it is truly prophetic:

    The world will see amazing changes
    from the deep dark seas to the high mountain ranges
    a cleansing wind that blows in true
    and transforms the things we say and do

    and kindness will be our sovereign king
    the reason behind everything
    no more lying, grasping, fights to death
    we’ll all find love drives every breath

    at last we’ll realise we are one
    put on this earth for joy and fun
    no more fear of guns, no hate, no pain,
    hearts dancing under fresh clear rain.

  21. AvatarWalter J Wojtanik

    NOT KNOWING, by Walter J Wojtanik

    “Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” ~Matthew 25:13

    Eventually, we will all meet our end,
    for we are on borrowed time.
    There is a limit, so live within it
    and prosper. Be faithful,
    for on that fateful day, the Master
    will say our time is through.
    What did you do with it?
    Was there time for others
    in your itinerary of life?
    Were you good to your children, your wife?
    Did you put action to your beliefs?
    For it was said that prayer without action
    is only empty words. Be assured,
    no one knows the how, or the when.
    The why is that eventually, we all meet our end.
    We do no know the future. So, be vigilant.
    For God only knows in His power,
    and we know
    neither the day nor the hour.

  22. Avatarheadintheclouds87

    The Folly of Cold Hard Prediction

    All is supposedly calculated
    And rises and falls foreseen
    In long rambling forecasts
    Where interest is held only
    By brightly coloured charts and graphs;
    Chance is condensed to numbers,
    Human nature stripped of its complexity
    To then be scaled cynically
    Into digestible probability;
    It is admittedly valiant to attempt
    To pin down our chaotic actions
    Into some form of rhyme or reason,
    But not all can be predicted
    Into a neat and tidy package,
    They will always be best guesses
    Based on surface observations.

  23. Avatartaylor graham


    Someday the woman across the road
    will no longer appear in her muck-out boots
    to pitch hay to her sorrel mare, who
    will be long gone; and the curly-headed
    man will be gone too, with his shepherd-dog
    who loves to chase sticks over grass
    by the frog-pond. But wild turkeys still
    find paths down the hill’s rocky backside,
    where yesterday I found three
    savaged turkey eggs and an empty nest,
    and the raccoon, the skunk, the fox
    will still be hungry for any new nest
    of the wild turkeys still surviving.

  24. AvatarWalter J Wojtanik

    IF I HAD A HUNCH, by Walter J Wojtanik

    I can gather information in bunches,
    but I tend to act on my hunches.
    over leftover lunches and brunches,
    And I come to this conclusion.
    This profusion of data doesn’t really matta.
    So, I’ll ask your advice with a miffed face,
    “Who do you like in the fifth race?”

  25. AvatarMET

    Shh… Child Tell No One of Your Predictions

    A few weeks after
    I told Ma of her father’s death
    Hours before it occurred…
    She warned me that day to say nothing
    For people will think she was strange.
    Ma gave me a cup of tea
    After my brother Joe and Da
    Had gone fishing.
    She was serious…
    I was scared
    Wondering what I had done
    Because I was always doing something wrong.

    “Child,” she started, and I was worried
    She rarely called me child.
    “I have a story and warning to tell you,”
    And story began to unfold…

    She told me that she understood
    That I had seen what could not be seen
    For she had done it, too.
    She told me how she dreamed
    Her best friend’s father’s death…
    She dreamed he was brought
    Home for the wake
    And the room was filled with pink flowers.
    Her heart grieved with her friend
    Though Ma said nothing to her.
    Two weeks later
    Her friend wrote to tell Ma
    That her father had died, and
    For his wake they brought him home,
    And the room was filled with yellow flowers.
    Ma lived in Kentucky then
    In a time when long distant calls
    Were only made in an emergency.
    Ma looked down in her tea
    As if she was contemplating
    What she needed to say next.

    I understood for I felt her fear…
    And I understood she understood me.
    Tears were welling in my eyes.
    “Child,” she said with a sigh,
    “what I say to you now,
    You must heed.”
    I nodded.

    She looked up as she began to speak,
    “My mother told me this
    When I was young, so listen carefully.”
    She told me that no one will ever understand.
    Ma was right.
    She told me that some will think I was possessed.
    Ma was right.
    Some will say it is the mark of the devil.
    Ma was right.
    Most will not believe you.
    Ma was right.
    It will not stop what is going to happen.
    Ma was right.
    Keep this to yourself…
    Ma was right,
    But I didn’t listen to that one.
    People will think you are strange
    Ma was right about that one.
    It will keep you separate most of your life.
    Ma was right about that also.
    It is a gift, but it is a curse.
    Ma was right about that one
    For it has broken my heart more than once.

    There were tears in my mother’s eyes
    With a sadness born of love
    That would have taken this from me
    If she could have, but knew
    It was not a choice she would have
    Passed onto her wayward child-
    Much like I suspect
    The one her mother passed onto her.

    Over the years Ma
    Told to me secrets that I knew
    Was brought to her
    As they were sometimes brought to me.
    It was a bond
    Of understanding…
    No one else could understand.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    April 15, 2019

  26. AvatarMargot Suydam

    I Know My Fate

    I will bid farewell to where
    that lonely house still rests

    on that distant strand where 
    as a child, I strode too deep

    into the fast end of summer swirl
    waves jostling my fading tan.

    It will be a blistery Irish day
    in May before the tourists 

    flock here. Still I will feel alone
    on the wide sun-blocked field

    of sand and tinted sky, a single
    speck swept up by a distant sea.

    I know my fate. I often dream
    of waves, violent somersaults

    amidst salty foam my face
    and knees gravel as my lungs

    fill, a quick and painless washing
    away as hurt and happiness meld

    with no one around
    as witness.

  27. AvatarMET

    Sad Prediction

    I predict that hate will grow
    And rage, and tear us apart
    Unless we are kind
    To those with whom we disagree,
    Whom we do not like, and
    Whom we hate.
    How can they ever
    Learn not to hate
    If all we give them is our hate.
    No, it is kindness
    That stops the madness,
    The anger, the hate
    And prevents us
    From being torn apart.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    April 15, 2019

  28. Avatartimphilippart

    Not the Ponies

    I predicted the weight of the baby,
    the day and the time were right,
    I foresaw a tiger mastering golf,
    a dream revealed the winners of
    the top four academy awards,
    I made good plays in the market,
    I repeatedly roll at roulette but,
    I’m always wrong at Aqueduct.

  29. Avatarkhoward

    A prediction is like the wind
    Will it blow east or west
    Maybe north or south
    Or will it not blow at all

    In summer some days are stagnant
    Hey was that a prediction I just made
    Or is it something that just happens
    I say prediction other say no no know

    A prediction is if the light’s red cars will stop
    The cop is waiting on the prediction to fail
    My prediction is that the sun will rise tomorrow
    If I’m wrong the prediction of the sun is very wrong

  30. AvatarLinda Rhinehart Neas


    Under the marble ceiling, stained-glass rainbows
    lighting up the aisles, we were told
    by a representative of God himself
    that predictions were sinful and devil’s work.
    Then, as we shiver in our shoes
    knowing we had read the daily horoscope,
    he reads from Revelations.
    My mind spins as, once again,
    questions I cannot ask, twirl like
    cyclones through the valleys of my mind.
    Apostles and prophets predicted
    doom and apocalypse – surely devil’s work, both
    but, per-knowledge of love and happiness
    was damned as Satan’s words, too?
    For years, the battle raged within.
    Momma had said people are gifted with sight
    of things to come, of those gone but not forgotten.
    Momma had said the Holy Spirit decides who can
    or cannot see beyond the veil.
    Now, as I enter my “golden years,”
    one thing I know for sure –
    No one knows! Life is all about choices.
    We each decide by our actions or inaction
    what the future will be – Heaven or Hell –
    it’s up to us.

    1. AvatarMET

      Thank you… I have struggle with this most of my life since the first time I predicted a death before it happened. I was ten…a boyfriend once wanted to have the demons removed from me… but I left him…and I see now that choices matter

  31. Avatartrishwrites

    After they’re gone

    She stands in bewilderment
    At the certainty
    Of a sun that still rises
    Whether in a grey dawn
    Or blue brilliance
    And still people rise
    Still the days unfold
    In the hum of traffic
    In silence that might
    break her
    In a song of hope

    Until there comes a time
    When she too begins
    to rise again

  32. AvatarPat Walsh

    by Patrick J. Walsh

    in the end their
    predictions varied
    too greatly for them
    to hold themselves

    split with murmers
    of early mornings
    splaying gravel and
    hefting sighs along
    the edge of the highway

    they trailed off like
    remnants of the rain
    that clouds hold close
    after their intentions
    are foiled by the sun

  33. AvatarWalter J Wojtanik

    PROPHETS DREAM, by Walter J Wojtanik

    Prophets dream,
    for their dreams provide
    the visions of tomorrow.
    Borrow against those predictable thoughts
    and ideas and see where they will lead you,
    fueled by their fervent fire unquenchable.
    They have the desire to shed their light
    through the cold, dark night,
    second star on the right
    and straight on until you get old.
    What happens after that
    is as yet un-foretold!

  34. Avatarjakecosmos

    April 15, 2019 Prayers for the Future of the Planet

    A shaman priestess
    Is deep in thought
    Engaged in Meditation
    on the fate
    Of the earth

    She is deep in the cosmic woods
    In the world between worlds
    Where she is communing
    With the spirits of the universe
    Who listen to her tale of woe

    She tells them
    Of the rise of the neo fascists
    And the refusal to address
    The possible end of the world
    Due to run away climate change

    She prays and prays
    And finally
    She receives an answer
    More a prediction
    It is all up to humans

    She has two visions
    Of a possible future
    Two contrasting visions
    One a dystopian nightmare
    The other an optimistic vision

    The first
    The neo fascists
    Seize control
    And usher in a dystopian nightmare
    That ends with utter destruction

    Nuclear war
    Nuclear winter
    Ends climate change
    As civilization ends
    And mankind retreat to caves

    And it happens
    In a blink of an eye
    In less than five years
    The world will end
    Game over civilization ends

    The second vision
    The optimistic vision
    Humanity wakes up
    From their collective night mare
    Throws off the neo fascist cabal

    And begin to change the world
    Making the economy works
    For all of us
    Not just the corrupt 1 percent
    The so-called masters of the Universe

    They are overthrown
    In a people’s power revolution
    All over the world
    People wake up
    Demand change

    And slowly the world
    Begins to recover
    And overcome
    The dark hours
    Of the present age

    The shaman priestess
    Returns home
    To spread the word
    It up to us
    To choose our fate

    The end is indeed near
    It is darker than you think
    But it is not over yet
    If we choose the path
    Of the cosmic light

    And overthrow
    The neo fascist cabal
    And restore democracy
    And peace will break out
    And all will end well

    If not
    Well she says
    You have been warned
    The universe has spoken
    So, mote it be

    based on a photo prompt from creative talent unleashed cross posted on All poetry

  35. AvatarWalter J Wojtanik

    IN CASE THERE’S A TOMORROW, by Walter J Wojtanik

    There’s no guarantee
    that you’ll awaken from your slumber.
    But you’ll rest anyway, hoping the day ends
    and the new one will pick up the pace.
    It would be a cold slap in the face
    if you don’t make it until morning.
    But, it can happen without warning,
    so be prepared (and don’t be scared)
    for what tomorrow may be giving.
    For as long as you remain living,
    each new tomorrow is a gift.
    So lift yourself up daily and gaily proclaim,
    “Each day from here on after,
    whether in tears, or laughter or shame,
    I’ll hope for another day just the same.”

  36. AvatarAled Harris

    “A guessing game”

    Close your eyes and count to three
    No, really, come on, humour me.
    Just close those peepers nice and tight
    I’ll guess something, smile if I’m right.
    One. Two. Three.
    Okay, so my prediction is:
    Your eyes stayed open, reading this.

  37. AvatarWalter J Wojtanik

    SEVENLING (Michel de Notre Dame),

    Michel de Notre Dame presumed,
    Edgar Cayce so did delve.
    The Mayans calendar all predicted: 12/21/2012.

    In hindsight, Indian Medicine men concurred,
    with the Bible’s Revelation,
    of the timing of the end of days final conflagration.

    I don’t know about you guys, but I’ll wait for the movie!

  38. AvatarPowerUnit

    That day will come,
    when there will be only words,
    no visions of you,
    so echoes of your breath,
    no wafts in the night,
    to know I’m not alone.

    That day will come
    when there will be no more words,
    no histories of love,
    no stories of our deaths,
    no poems of the fight,
    to show we weren’t alone.

  39. AvatarWalter J Wojtanik

    IN PREDICTION, by Walter J Wojtanik

    I can see into the future.
    People will complain
    about the weather,
    rail against religion,
    find fault with the duly elected
    and their policies.
    Some celebrities will die,
    go into therapy or be caught
    in compromising situations.
    There will be another war,
    or not. We’ll find life on Mars,
    or not. They’ll find a cure for all diseases.
    Or not. And as the year comes to an end
    the slew of predictions will recycle,
    and I predict someone will get it right.
    One of these days

  40. AvatarWalter J Wojtanik

    FUTURES FORETOLD, by Walter J Wojtanik

    Stealing pieces of every moment
    held in fleeting patience; lost
    in a discipline most sublime.
    The time for tears will fly
    in the face of the heroic.
    Prophets gazing; Grazing
    the limits of their visions.
    Futures foreseen dictated
    by intuition and whimsy.
    Seeing outcomes before
    their allotted time. All
    through foresight
    and a crystal ball.

  41. AvatarWalter J Wojtanik

    CHEKOV’S WINTER, by Walter J Wojtanik

    When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. ~Spoken by Bill Murray as Phil Connors in Groundhogs Day

    I have seen Chekov’s Winter.
    Bleak and dark and long,
    Amplified by strong driving winds
    Drifting the forceful snow.
    It grip insidious, bereft of hope.
    I had once been able to cope
    With its furry, but I need it to release.
    A week before Easter and Spring
    Has been beaten to submission.
    These have been the bleakest, darkest days.


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