Tuesday, October 14, 2014


iPhoto by L. Kolp: Fort Sam Houston National Cemetery, San Antonio, TX

So many stories-- real, superstitious, legendary-- revolve around graveyards: restless spirits lurking in the dark waiting to pounce on brave teenagers, cursed cemetery statues, Iowa's black angels. Have you ever heard of the devil's chair? I dare you to sit in one at midnight!

iPhoto by L. Kolp Random front (grave)yard in Louisiana
Cemeteries set the scene in famous books and movies such as The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, cartoons like Scooby Doo.

This week, write a poem about a graveyard. It can be based on some of the ideas above, or your own experience/thoughts of burying a loved one. Perhaps the pictures will inspire you as well.

One important condition--> Keep the poem at 28 lines or less. 

St. Louis Cemetery, New Orleans, La

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

If I Were...


As a child, did you ever dream you were a prince or a princess? Did you like to dress up as Cinderella, a cowboy, an Indian, a doctor or a pirate?

I remember that in primary school we had to draw ourselves doing the job we wanted to have in the future. I drew myself in a riding-school holding a horse by the rein, teaching kids how to ride. A lot of my friends wanted to be nurses or elementary school teachers. What did you answer when the adults around you asked you what you wanted to be when you grow up?

Even today, from time to time, we still imagine ourselves in somebody’s shoes or believe we would do so much better if we were the president or prime minister, or the coach of our favorite team.

If I Were In Charge of the World

If I were in charge of the world 
I'd cancel oatmeal, 
Monday mornings, 
Allergy shots, and also Sara Steinberg. 

If I were in charge of the world 
There'd be brighter nights lights, 
Healthier hamsters, and 
Basketball baskets forty eight inches lower. 

If I were in charge of the world 
You wouldn't have lonely. 
You wouldn't have clean. 
You wouldn't have bedtimes. 
Or "Don't punch your sister." 
You wouldn't even have sisters. 

If I were in charge of the world 
A chocolate sundae with whipped cream and nuts would be a vegetable 
All 007 movies would be G, 
And a person who sometimes forgot to brush, 
And sometimes forgot to flush, 
Would still be allowed to be 
In charge of the world.

(Judith Viorst)

So today I’d like you to write a “If I were” poem. Feel free to be whoever or whatever you’d like to be. What would you do? How would you feel? 

Here are a few ‘If I were” poem titles to get you thinking:
If I were a sparrow
If I were you
If I were another
If I were a book
If I were your answer

Your poem may be serious, touching, philosophical or humorous. You choose. Be bold, be original, be wild as you write your own “If I were’ poem.

After writing your poem, post your link below. And in the spirit of community, visit others as well.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014


The magic mirror of shaman Queen used in ancient Japanese rituals
source here

Magic may have lots of meaning to different people. It influenced daily lives and rituals of ancient cultures. Religion and magic lived side by side. Priest, religious leaders practiced magic. For many centuries magic was associated with the supernatural or the occult.

Monarch Butterfly Migration
source here

We still believe in magic with a changed attitude.
Hasn’t Nature hidden magic only for those who have eyes to see?
Aren’t those moments magical when we are awestruck by viewing something or by meeting someone?

source here

Magic today is an art of illusion to be performed on stage or in the street for the purpose of entertainment.

What images come to your mind when you utter the word magic? Is it a stage and a performer? A sleight of hands? Illusions? Or is it something different?

Let us explore the world of magic in our writing and all that it means to us. So this week's prompt is Magic.

A couple of poems for inspiration:

Delight is as the Flight

Emily Dickinson

Delight is as the flight
Or in the ratio of it
As the Schools would say
The Rainbows way

Rest of the poem here


Carl Sandburg

I too have a garret of old playthings.
                 I have tin soldiers with broken arms upstairs.
                I have a wagon and the wheels gone upstairs.
                       I have guns and a drum, a jumping-jack and a magic lantern.
           And dust is on them and I never look at them upstairs.
I too have a garret of old playthings.

Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and visit others in the spirit of the community.