Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 420

Here’s the final prompt and poem of 2017; let’s make it a good one!

For today’s prompt, write an elevated poem. Whether we’re talking elevators, elevator shoes, elevating for a slam dunk, or some other form of elevation, there’s only really one way to take this prompt: Up! That is, unless you want to share the aftermath of elevation, which is often down.


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Here’s my attempt at an Elevated Poem:

“a little bit more”

& it’s true that i didn’t need to feel taller
because i was already tall enough
but i still stood straight & bounced
on the balls of my feet because even
the tallest people run into someone
who is just an inch or two taller
& besides there’s nothing wrong
with a little bit more elevation.


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 credits his third grade teacher, Mrs. Tillotson, with improving his form at a young age to stand tall, and he credits his parents with providing him with the height to stand taller.

Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.


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70 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 420

  1. stepstep


    Just above a whisper your words traveled through my ears
    To encourage and comfort me
    Until my interest, piqued, well-oiled
    Was caressed and taken to a level
    So intense that right became wrong,
    Holding strong;
    Whereby true conviction lifted my spirits
    Beyond situational capacity.

  2. Walter J Wojtanik


    It was cold, darn cold.
    And the Snows of Kilimanjaro
    found Buffalo at home.
    Everyone dressed to the nines
    and tens and then it hit me,
    today the training wheels
    come off for real. Here’s the deal –
    my daughter was getting married.
    I had carried her when she was small,
    but all down the long aisle I couldn’t help
    but smile (and shed a tear or a hundred)
    and we “carried” each other in our walk
    that I wished lasted longer. A last kiss
    and this Miss became a wife.
    I’ve awaited/dreaded this moment
    all my life and now this boy sheds tears
    of joy. My beauty and her handsome man
    stand astride and cannot hide their love.
    Blessed from above in a married swoon,
    we will not soon touch ground for a while.
    And we continue to smile.

  3. thunk2much

    Up and at ‘em

    The cold (or is it flu?)
    took me to bed by force
    having its way with me
    through the whining last days
    of that lousy last year.
    Perfect ending, I suppose
    but here it is
    the beginning again
    and there’s insurance to buy,
    and perhaps new tires,
    so this morning finally
    I cast off the shackles
    and coughed my way
    bitterly to work.

  4. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    By Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    Every night
    I sleep with a black & tan
    stretched out like a deer carcass
    beside me, his rotty back paws
    tucked quietly and neatly
    into the small of my back,
    ready for lunar travel.

    I could not love this fur child
    any deeper if I were to have
    birthed him myself, a little
    weakness he’s been known to
    exploit on occasion.

    I would run into a burning building
    to save his life, take on
    a cougar or a bear if I had to,
    eat a bullet on his behalf
    cause he’d do the same for me.

    But for now we are content
    in our nightly travels back
    and forth to sister moon,
    chasing bunnies amongst the craters
    graffiting hearts in the moondust
    filling pockets with moonrock contraband
    for the peeps back home,
    all the while howling
    wolven lullabies
    in unison
    in our sleep.

    © 2017 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

  5. RJ Clarken

    The Feeling of Poetry

    “He who finds elevated and lofty pleasure in the feeling of poetry is a true poet, though he never composed a line of verse in his entire lifetime.” ~Madame Dudevant

    What is the takeaway from lines
    which can reach the innermost
    point of someone’s deepest confines?
    Is there an invisible ghost
    who haunts with strange, mystical signs
    or is it that the mind’s engrossed
    in elevated, lofty thought…
    with bits of verse we once were taught?


  6. Eileen S

    Rise Above

    It is a small person who spreads
    negativity and falsehoods.
    It is the action of a coward;
    someone who has no backbone.
    Negativity is destructive,
    negativity is dull, negativity is hell.

    The lies and negativity force a person
    live in a deep dark abyss all by himself.
    If he thinks he is tearing down others to
    build himself up, in reality he’s hurting himself
    because no one will want to know him.

    Someone who keeps anger
    all bottled up inside is killing himself.
    His spirit inside is suffocated.
    Someone who spews out anger
    is hurting others as well as himself.
    His spirit becomes weak.
    That person is fighting battles inside himself.
    Eventually his spirit will be no more.

    However, you can’t fix him,
    but you can fix yourself.
    Fix yourself!

    The anger you hold
    for someone else
    imprisons you and keeps
    you from helping others.

    Rise about your individual
    concerns and pettiness and start living.
    Stop complaining about
    what you can’t do anything about.
    Get yourself into the world,
    become a part of the world
    and do something.

    See the light, drive out darkness
    Embrace love, drive out hate.
    Make life better.
    Care about others
    Empower the spirit.

    You can rise above,
    spread love,
    lighten your burden.
    Do it now and rise above.
    Do it now and rise above.

  7. MargoL

    Dreams have wings

    A dream is the thing with wings –
    that rest in our soul –
    which fuels the – imagination –
    and unfolds like a scroll –

    plunging us in a world –
    of fantasy – and vision.
    Our thoughts soar like an eagle –
    Manoeuvring ideas
    like a magician.

    I’ve heard it said that
    dreams have wings –
    The hope that keeps us above –
    the most magnificent of things.

    © December 5, 2017

  8. seingraham


    I don’t ask to be lifted up,
    put on a pedestal,
    raised above.
    If I want my lot improved
    or to be exalted,
    that’s up to me.
    At least that how it’s always
    seemed, and the older
    I get,
    the more the idea of
    promotion, advancement,
    nay – even elation,
    appears to be self-generated
    or not at all.

  9. Connie Peters

    Walking on Stilts

    When we were kids
    we liked to walk on stilts.
    Mine were about two feet high,
    my older sisters’ were three feet,
    and my younger sisters’
    were flat on the ground.

    One day we neighborhood kids
    walked up our country road on stilts.
    Everyone fell away
    except me and my older sister.
    We walked a mile up and back.

    We were always determined
    or should I say stubborn?
    Still are.

  10. grcran

    say the word

    “In the beginning I misunderstood
    But now I’ve got it, the word is good
    … say the word and you’ll be free” by Lennon and McCartney

    it’s execrated elevated
    dammed & near exterminated
    PG-rated aggravated
    crash & burned incinerated
    vestiges obliterated
    then phoenix-like, reiterated
    high & low we throw the meaning of
    four-letter bird we know the word is love

    gpr crane

  11. ReathaThomasOakley


    This bitter cold
    dark Wyoming day
    a message from
    my younger son
    sent by phone
    from Spain or some
    far flung place with
    sun lifts me up
    and I am warm.

  12. Daniel Paicopulos

    Rising Up

    It would be nice if America would
    clean up its act,
    mind its P’s and Q’s,
    sweeten its style,
    brush up on its manners.
    It would be great if Americans would
    take things a bit easier,
    did a few more favors,
    read a lot more books,
    ate way less meat.
    It would be cool if America had
    less traffic and more libraries
    less trash and more art,
    less texts and more conversations,
    less dress racks
    and more comfortable chairs
    in women’s clothing stores
    so waiting husbands didn’t
    have to stand around,
    looking dumb,
    for so long.
    It would be nice.

  13. PowerUnit

    With friends in high places
    On the boss’s pet project
    Their elevated status
      -promoted peons mental midget management
    And unreal expectations
      -nobody expects anything more than they can do

    The corner office always has a better view
    Must be higher than a cubical wall
    Can there be anything greater
    Than a president on a pedestal?

    A loss of control
    A foot off the pedal

  14. SarahLeaSales


    For I was sculpted from the dust of the earth,
    given form,
    by the Living Water,
    with the Bread of Life.

    My blood can save another person
    though it cannot save the world
    It has not the magical properties
    of the Divine.
    It never washes away
    that which is scarlet to bleach white,
    but rather,
    it possesses the power to illuminate
    any crime scene.

    And yet,
    I am elevated by the Divine’s
    claim on me—
    this Deity who chose me
    over His Only Begotten—
    the Son who sacrificed Himself
    so that I all I had to do was ask Him
    to forgive me
    for forcing Him to make
    an impossible choice.

  15. taylor graham


    on a line by Wendell Berry

    A man who loves the trees will walk below
    these canopies of oak at any time
    in any weather, up the rocky climb
    to hilltop. There’s his home, it’s brown and low
    against the winds that rummage as they blow
    the seasons against stone, a pantomime
    of aging into earth, to soil; begrime
    the hands where buckeye saplings grow.
    He learns by pebbles and the thistle’s crown,
    the hearts of miner’s lettuce and the song
    of creek when rain at last gives it a voice
    as sweet in drought as water coming down
    from higher – hills where he might stride along
    below the trees he loves, the wordless choice.

  16. taylor graham


    It’s a contentious morning
    in the hen-yard. Peck and squawk
    and a down-drift of feathers.
    Blame the night – in dream the owl
    passes overhead, or coyote just before
    dawn. Our hens on the frontline
    where hunger rides down
    from the north, its acid chemistry
    that eats the roost.
    It’s up to a winter sun to rise, to wipe
    the morning bright, for hopes
    of the rounding and the browning
    of an egg.

  17. Anthony94

    Pico de Orizaba

    We walk down crater toward
    this mountain towering above
    the city, higher even than the
    famous Popo or Iztaccihuatl

    Here, Star Mountain or Citlaltépetl
    in the melodious language of the Nahua
    beckons every morning as we head
    into the Universidad Veracruzana.

    Asleep since 1687, this stratovolcano
    ignites with shimmering light at sunrise
    while the city slumbers at its feet,
    the snow capped cone a giant prism

    strobing like a lighthouse, radiant
    and challenging to climbers with her
    elevation of some five thousand meters
    bested only by Denali and McKinley.

    We point our feet into the ancient brick
    as we head lower and lower into the
    sloping basin some sixty miles out, shut
    ourselves in rooms from which we escape

    at dusk, to head in the opposite direction
    feel Citlaltépetl like a friendly hand, her glow
    on our shoulders, as she settles a bit into her
    caldera, exhales centuries while the city sleeps.


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