This blog is devoted to a select group of poets. We're starting with poets from the Ann Arbor area, but, hey, if you're from Detroit, Grand Rapids, Saginaw or the Upper Peninsula, then that is okay, too. We've even been so generous to accept poets from other parts of the USA and the entire country of Canada!
Our goal is to provide you with a prompt every day from which you are to garner inspiration and submit a poem. How to submit will be very easy. Just put your poem or short story in the comments section and hit post. You may not immediately see your post, but it is there under the "Comments" section. You may need to click on "Comments" to see your poem. It is there on another page.
Our goal is to provide you with a prompt every day from which you are to garner inspiration and submit a poem. How to submit will be very easy. Just put your poem or short story in the comments section and hit post. You may not immediately see your post, but it is there under the "Comments" section. You may need to click on "Comments" to see your poem. It is there on another page.
You may need to have a Gmail or Yahoo or AOL account to post in the comments section. Most of you do have Gmail or Yahoo or AOL, but for those of you that don't, it's extremely worthwhile to open up one of these email accounts now! This way you've got a chance to get your work out there in the world.
Today's poem or short story prompt: The word "gum."
Sorry--not following the prompt today. I just returned last night from a 4-day trip to Massachusetts. I was delivering a friend who'd just lost his sister. I was moved by the energy of these lovely people and had to write something down.
ReplyDeleteShe Was Only 34
When was Heather's birthday?
Ellie said she's fifty-one,
but to Liz and many others
Heather had a shorter run.
For me she was a child,
with a sorta sketchy past,
then a tyrant with a temper.
All the claims in such contrast
to the woman, as I met her.
In these roles she was miscast
in my mind from all the stories:
second-hand at far too fast.
I expected an explosion,
maybe something even worse.
I was greeted with a welcome
from the tired and loving nurse.
If I were to tell her story
I would say she was a martyr
protecting other and their weakness,
but I can't attempt to chart her
because I hardly knew her.
For me she lived a week.
In this sad and lonely moment,
still my interest she has piqued.