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Friday, July 26, 2013

Today's Word or Short Story Prompt: The Word "Misspent"

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.

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 account to post in the comments section.  Most of you do have Gmail, but for those of you that don't it's extremely worthwhile to open up one now!  That way you've got a chance to get your work out there in the world.

Today's poem or short story prompt is "misspent".







               To spend improperly or extravagantly; squander


3 comments:

  1. FIFTY-SEVEN YEARS
    AND COUNTING


    Someone asked me
    to comment on the word "misspent".

    There's no reasonable place to start

    Of all the moments
    (over 1.8 billion seconds and counting)
    I have spent,
    only 42 are unambiguously
    NOT misspent.

    I kept track.

    Calculating the other categories
    would take a lot of time
    so I'm not going to do it.

    Mike Fedel
    July, 2013

    ReplyDelete
  2. Misspent

    In a glorious turnaround
    A ruthless roundabout
    In a country that doesn't understand that
    You drive in a circle until you see your exit
    I kept driving
    And driving
    Afraid of what others thought
    Imagining they possessed the bright knowledge
    Innate inborn central
    Never veering off in the wrong direction
    Happily traveling home
    Where loved ones waited

    Catherine Powers
    July 28, 2013
    Copyright 2013

    ReplyDelete
  3. happily past the unhappily passed
    quandary of squandering
    one's mis-penned youth,
    no longer is it a finite economy,
    despite ever-clearer mortality,
    the finitest coin of all

    and really it wasn't so badly penned,
    all those letters and stories and
    journal entries to an audience,
    all all about not so much words after all
    as entering and voyaging between
    this me and the you at hand


    -- LisaLou

    ReplyDelete