Day 1 Highlights
As promised, here are some highlighted poems from the Day 1 prompt, which was a “2 for Tuesday” treat where poets could either write about a first or beginning OR…
As promised, here are some highlighted poems from the Day 1 prompt, which was a "2 for Tuesday" treat where poets could either write about a first or beginning OR they could write an April Fool's poem. The poems I've highlighted aren't necessarily better than poems I didn't highlight; they're just some (of many) that spoke to me. Hope you enjoy them as much as I do.
(Also, these highlighted poems aren't listed in any kind of ranking system. They're in the same order as they appear in the Comments for the first day's prompt.)
(Double also, if you especially enjoy any of these poems, why not do your good deed for the day and send an email or make a comment below to let them know? I'm sure you could totally make someone's week by doing so.)
*****
MY FIRST BICYCLE
Had a removable boy’s bar,
Doubling as a girl’s bike.
Last night, at a Valentine’s
Party, I sat in a kissing
Booth kissing boys the way
I kiss girls when I know
Them well . . . when I was
Little I never considered
Removing the bar so I could
Jump higher, but every so
Often I wonder why I never did.
AARON FAGAN
Aaron Fagan |faganismAT NOSPAMgmail dot com
*****
my first marriage
was on a steep
hill in the third
grade: we were adjacent
to recess, asphalt
hopscotch and four-
square
i wore a crown
of weeds tethered
together with an 8-year
old’s precision
and striped culottes
that would be ridiculed
the following year
a small crowd surrounded
me and my sunny-shirted
groom in giggles; all
of us the kids and the colors
of a Peanuts comic strip
our makeshift minister
was a boy who once threw
up what looked like half
of a peach floating
in syrup which sat
under the morning
bell in sawdust
until a reluctant custodian
removed it from sight
a day later
down the aisle
i was a nervous
child bride; stepping
cautiously remembering
that once a girl with blonde
pigtails and a perfect Charlie
Brown-round head
did a somersault there
and landed in dog shit
after our dramatization
of what we thought
was committment, the kiss
landed on my lips
then we held hands
for a few minutes
we were divorced
by the time the bus
took us home; no honey-
moon on the jungle gym
or imaginary cruise--
just a tearful me
when i saw him
with a girl taller
than me the next day
k weber |ilovehateyouAT NOSPAMhotmail dot com
*****
Firsts
Furtively, I took my father's double-edged
blade and crept to the bathtub,
sure, for some reason, I'd be told
I was still too young
to look like the other girls,
so sleek, so acceptable.
I touched it to my ankle
and immediately, blood
spurt out on white porcelain,
a chunk of skin and some flesh
detached and lying on the drain.
Now I'd have to get help and confess:
I tried to shave my legs.
Robin Morris
Robin Morris |momewraths2002AT NOSPAMyahoo dot com
*****
First Rites
At seventeen, we were far enough
from home to keep secrets.
We fumbled the poles into their snaps and loops,
arcing, stretching the tent like a drum
between. I wanted to be a man
so I gathered sticks and fallen
branches, cussed and cussed and cussed till the matches
took.
With the cottonwoods and the light
failing fast it became difficult
to talk. I laughed too loud. Fussed
too much with the little flame. We both
pretended to love the taste
of Winstons. I waited for you
to say you were cold. You waited for me
to ask.
We might have looked
more narrowly into the fire,
seven wood spokes
gone coal, nightbirds
somewhere softly arguing
I will I will I will
swear to God
I will.
Scott Coykendall |scoykenAT NOSPAMyahoo dot com
*****
First Day of Summer
We throw the bag
into the back of the van
and head out, laughing.
The radio shares
our excitement
as we sing along,
off key and very loud.
Greeted by
shimmering water,
shovels, pails,
and laughing children.
Sand between our toes,
warm and scratchy.
Sun on our necks,
hot and dry.
We drop everything
and jump into the water.
Refreshed.
Lori |brightiiizAT NOSPAMaol dot com
*****
First rodeo
Head full of tequila
New cowboy boots full of sore feet,
I stumbled and fell
on the railroad tracks
before I even had the chance
to get thrown from a horse.
Somewhere John Wayne
shakes his head and walks away
into the sunset
Mike Barzacchini |mjbarzAT NOSPAMyahoo dot com
*****
Thaw
How excited everything is to live
after so many long, cold months.
Even the crocuses begin the surface ascent,
the stems finding their pitch against a stiff April wind
while the birds sing their deliberate song for no one,
not even the world with all of its exaggerated beauty.
They are as much the notes not sung
as the ones that are. Let them praise only themselves,
and if the crocuses take credit, so be it.
Let them grip the wet dirt in their silent blooming.
January |jgill27494AT NOSPAMaol dot com
*****
First Catch
I watched him as he paused,
hoped as he considered,
waited until he decided.
He picked up the ball
and ran back to me.
He dropped it at my feet,
slightly soggy.
I felt wonderfully complete!
Then...
he snatched it back.
As he ran away with it,
I swear I could hear him laugh.
Tonica |tonihall2003AT NOSPAMyahoo dot com
*****
First Love
Not the buxom blond
from high school or
the yellow convertible with
red leather upholstery and
not the teacher who paid
attention to me after my
years of being ignored but
that love that never ends,
that gives without expecting
anything in return,
that wonder of
all passions,
CHOCOLATE.
Alfred J Bruey |ajbrueyAT NOSPAMaol dot com
*****
First Kiss
Your name was Roger
Tall boy, quiet boy
Third grade girl & boy--
Why you? We planned it
like a surgical procedure.
We hid in the ravine
so no one would see.
No one could see
nose bumping on nose
glasses clinking glasses
the first time.
So we had to try again.
This time you tilted
your head and the kiss
planted just right.
The Arctic breeze
couldn't reach down
there, deep by the
frozen creek.
We walked back up
the hill to report
our findings.
Elizabeth |lilyclarissaAT NOSPAMhotmail dot com
*****
First Day of College
Dad and Mom are in the front seat
I am wedged in the back between
boxes and bags filled with towels
comforters, pillows, a hot pot,
a study lamp, and clothes that
I don't want to wear anymore
Pittsburgh is a thousand miles away
as we cross the Verrazano in our borrowed car
on our way to Greenwhich Village and my dorm
The sky is as bright as the idea I had
to have a different kind of life
"what was I thinking?" harmonizes with
"if I can make it here I'll make it anywhere"
in my brain as I feel the air thicken
and the pace quicken
Dad catches my eye in the rearview mirror
as the New York skyline dares me to enter
will I be swallowed whole or embraced
there is no way to know
"is this a big enough campus for you?"
he asks
I smile weakly
wanting despeartely to be the girl
who I was when this was just a dream
and not the one who is carsick and scared
"Just remember," Dad says, "always act like you know
where you are going and no one will stop you."
No one ever did.
Teri Coyne |tmc329AT NOSPAMaol dot com

Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Editor of Writer's Digest, which includes managing the content on WritersDigest.com and programming virtual conferences. He's the author of 40 Plot Twist Prompts for Writers: Writing Ideas for Bending Stories in New Directions, The Complete Guide of Poetic Forms: 100+ Poetic Form Definitions and Examples for Poets, Poem-a-Day: 365 Poetry Writing Prompts for a Year of Poeming, and more. Also, he's the editor of Writer's Market, Poet's Market, and Guide to Literary Agents. Follow him on Twitter @robertleebrewer.