Tag Archives: prompted poetry

More found (prompt) poetry

Again I found inspiration in a journal prompt at Lightning Droplets:


Describe in one small detail the change in your life

Think of one very small change
that offers a window into this time:
a crayon drawing, seeds
you planted, a mountain
of toilet paper.

Write down whatever comes
to mind; leave nothing
out. How does this small
detail relate to everything
else in your world?

Show us the colors and textures
you notice when you look
closely. What is the history
behind this? What meaning
does it hold for you?

Tell us why you noticed
this change, what captured
your attention. Show us how
it connects to something
larger in your life.


may daffodils

April Queen daffodils, a lovely gift from my lovely daughter

Prompt as poetry

Lightning Droplets has been posting journal prompts, but as we all know, prompts are prompts. 😉 Here’s a sort-of found poem from Monday’s post.


Prompt 18

Shelter and write
the pandemic as a turning
point: on what trajectory
was the year before the outbreak?
How does the virus change

things? It should alter life
decisions and goals, reshape
relations, spaces, and time,
transform who we are
as people.


may allium

Allium schubertii almost ready to bloom

Days 9 and 10, NaPoWriMo 2020

Thanks to my Gauntlet-mate Eileen Rush for the prompt that led to this poem.

Self-portrait as a trivet

in a child’s hands I went from cool
slab of shapeless clay to thick
disk, ornamented with patterned
impressions of fork and crayon and pen
cap, then painted a bright favorite
orange, sealed with glaze, and made
firm and finally useful by prolonged
exposure to intense heat


This is what I imagined my daughter was thinking last weekend.

Third week of online college classes from home

What is it with parents
and cleaning? Today
mine are washing the patio
furniture like Jesus himself
is coming over for a cookout.


2020 National Poetry Month Poster-50

Day 4, NaPoWriMo 2020

Today’s poem came from the prompt at the NaPoWriMo website:


Excerpts from the night shift

In one dream we are seated on chairs
in a circle. We pass an object between us
and speak. When it’s my turn I feel
electrified and words pour molten
from my mouth. When it’s my turn
I feel spotlit and my tongue dries
to the roof of my mouth.

In another dream a woman is a surgeon
and a musician and a friend. She checks
my face beneath the cold pack and says
the swelling is almost gone so I am free
to leave as well. I still feel unsteady
but someone else is driving. Already I can
breathe more easily.


2020 National Poetry Month Poster-50

Day 18, NaPoWriMo 2019

The 30/30 Poetry Facebook prompt was “street signs.”

Signs of spring

All along the street, signs pop up
brilliant as flowers, unexpected
as mushrooms: new-leaf green
Roofing by Sta-Dri, Vote for So-and-so
in variegated red-white-blue, apple red
We Support Teachers, Pesticide
Application Keep Off in crime-scene yellow.



another sign of spring: lilacs from the neighborhood

Day 17, NaPoWriMo 2019

The 30/30 Poetry Facebook prompt was “afterglow of soup.”

Oak Ridge Stew

Everything was grown in the kitchen garden
out front, in the yellow clay that gives those carrots
such a cheery glow. The onions are shaped
a little strange but they taste just fine,
though the turnips seem to have an extra bite.
We dig potatoes at night when it’s easier
to see them, bright against the fresh-turned
soil. Eat up! The flavors are incandescent!


Day 16, NaPoWriMo 2019

The 30/30 Poetry Facebook prompt was “write a poem that is more about sound than meaning. let’s call this sound surfing.” I am indebted to Evelyn Christensen for this poem, derived entirely from the answers she posted to her 1-Minute Morning Mind Stretch for April 15.

Apes age for ages as gaps
gape and gas gashes. A hag
has a heap of pages and peas
on a peg that sags with sap.
Sage is she, with a shag
the shape of the sea.


april 15 2019 one minute mind stretch

Day 15, NaPoWriMo 2019

The 30/30 Poetry Facebook prompt was “overboard.”


again and again I board the boat
in my dreams, and again and again
there’s the storm and the swamping
and the shouts and the chaos

like before the book of Genesis
opens, before God sets everything
in order, only in the dreams there
is no God, no order, no time

again and again I struggle through
blankets and billows only to find
myself in bed, sweat-soaked,
the taste of marine fuel in my mouth


Day 14, NaPoWriMo 2019

The 30/30 Poetry Facebook prompt was “how to.”


She tells me no one cares about her, and I resist
the urge to declare my love. She says she is waiting
to die, and I offer no list of things to live for.
No denial. No objection.
No argument. No dissuasion.

Because her pain is the message,
not her words. Because her suffering
is what moves her, not her reasoning.
I respond with sorrow, with shared
regret and fellow grief, for her heartache
will not be soothed by logic, her distress
cannot be calmed with evidence.

No force of mind will lift her
so I lie beside her on the floor and she sees
her own face reflected in my brimming
eyes. Responding to the sad woman
looking back at her, she rises when I do,
captivated by the play of her features
in that unexpected mirror.



fragrant daffodils from my yard

Day 13, NaPoWriMo 2019

The 30/30 Poetry Facebook prompt was “brilliant nothing.”

So eager was the blushing lad,
his bride-to-be forgave his haste
when the glittering ring she had
turned out not diamond, only paste.