Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Each week, we post a new poetry prompt and share the resulting poems in the comments section of the prompt post. You may also post the poem on your own blog and share the link in a comment.
about
We invite you to contribute your poems.
poetry and writing prompts
contributing poets
want to be added? post a poem in response to a prompt with your blog or web site as the URL.
I'll get things moving with this and come back with something else later:
ReplyDeleteCLICK ME
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteHere it is; no old ladies this time:
ReplyDeleteHEART
The Widow
ReplyDeleteBaaaa Baaaaaa
Bleating sheep
Billowing through sweeping hummocks
Shears rapidly working through
Soaked, muddied wool
Sacks filled for
Spinning wheels
Clumps straightened into
Chains of fiber
Channeling their way
Into a cylinder of fluff
Intertwining itself with dirt and dust
Irking the spinner
Impulsively picking bits from the floor
Free bag
Fleecy lines
Fumbling into one another
Tightly wound
Tucked away for winter
To create
Topcoats
The Ball of Yarn
ReplyDeleteWell the band started playin'
and we danced til our shoes were steamin'
Not a pair of legs that didn't have little
flames leapin' from their calves
Some of the lady's gowns caught fire we were
so tarantella'd like that Saint Vitas Dance
where spasms become lightingbolts and
every dancer fizzles into a roman candle
It set the drapes on fire it sure did
and pretty soon
the dancers were down the fire escapes
though the band continued playin' just like
on the deck of the Titanic only this time
it all dissolved into a pile of burnt
timbers and shattered disco balls...
That was one ball all right...
OK, maybe it wasn't completely like that
as the midnight bell tolled and we all
returned to pumpkin form in the moonlight...
You don't believe me?
You think this is all just a
ball of yarn?
radclyff sliced a bar of soap
ReplyDeletein half with a Cambodian machete
then held the end of a ball of yarn
to one half of the soap with his finger
wrapping the red yarn
around the broken bar of clue soap
the yarn became a strange metaphor
for our relationship to work
we are soap wrapped tight inside
a ball of soft yarn like armor
***
when he finished wrapping to soap
he tied the end of the yarn to my finger
and as i walked away from radclyff
the ball unraveled and soap fell loose
spinning along the vinyl floor of the bathroom
until it hit and knocked into the other half
a wooing
ReplyDeleteif tomorrow or two years from now,
you stare at the ceiling and decide
you are tired of wrapping your days
around a core of life that came before,
would you come to me and unwind,
expose your knotted, gnarled parts,
and tangle your timeline into mine
like yarn balls jumbled in a basket?
Such a mess
ReplyDeletethese rainbows of apricot and cerulean
soft and frayed
like ribbons of indigo and mulberry
strung from limb to limb
worn yet strong
this vibrant ball of yarn.
Ps. Thanks for the invite here:)
sometimes im tired of making sweaters
ReplyDeletetired of raveling unraveling far from
what I was
once undone as I’m sure you know
I’m never together quite the same
who keeps me warm then -
when I’m one long lonely strand
and not a ball of wound color,
close-knit
The three year old sat
ReplyDeleteand balled
and amidst the sobs
regaled his long-suffering mum
about all the things that vexed his poor, sensitive heart
and all the things that tested his as yet incapable mind
and his lament
was a yarn of almost unbelievable improbability
though to the three year old
his perceptions were as real as he was
or as his mum was
though to his mum
who was losing patience
having to listen to his ripping yarn
it was not ripping at all
but the most tedious, boring, annoying yarn
that any tiresome three year old
could come up with
amidst this fit of emotional indulgence
balling like a three year old.
"Why can't he act his age?"
she thought.
She eyed the ball of yarn he presented
ReplyDelete“This is strange”
“Just do it”
“OK”
She fingered the frayed virgin merino fibers
They were soft
“OK”
“You said that”
He thrust the ball forward
She took it from his hand
It was pure white
Unsullied by roaming hands
Dirty fingers
Dirt under jagged nails
“OK”
“OK?”
She began to unravel the long strand of yarn
"Slower"
"This is weird"
"You said that"
"Strange, I said this is strange"
"OK"
She slowed her pace
Inch by inch, the yarn was emptied into a soft puddle of fluff on the bed
He cut the piece she held between her fingers
"Eyes closed"
"Closed?"
"Yes"
"OK"
And it commenced.