Next week, Americans will celebrate Thanksgiving. This is a time when we are supposed to hog out on turkey and all the fixings, spend time with family, and be thankful for what we have. It is also when the native Americans and the Pilgrims got together for a feast. Of course, the latter half is probably a lot of fiction with some truth.
There are dozens, thousands of poems written about Thanksgiving and last year for my now defunct “Exquisite Corpse” the challenge was to write a haiku about thankfullness. It is always nice to be thankful for something because it does put you in a better mood.
But… I am here to challenge you. So here it is the much awaited new and exciting poetry challenge! Write a poem from either the perspective of a Native American, Pilgrim or both about the first Thanksgiving in America. Remember this is a not a contest but hopefully a nudge for you to write a poem. The poem can be in any style you wish, structured or free verse, serious or funny. Remember if you write a poem based on this challenge, please let me know and I will add the link to your poem on this post.
Good luck and I can not wait to read your poems!!
I am in a rut, sort of anyway. I know there are several issues going on here with my writing…
1.) exhaustion. I just can’t do everything in one day and I find myself drained by this time of night. If you are wondering why I am still up at 2:40 am it is because I took a two hour nap between 10 and midnight. I know crazy if you ask me
2.) uninspired. Well this is an interesting one since I have this weird image that stuck with me from a dream and lately it has been materializing a full story. I hope that it develops something so maybe I can write a story
3.) boredom. This could be with my life because it seems all I ever do is go to work, come home and go to work. I never lived liked that before but who knows.
4.) clutter. Yup my work space is cluttered, see number one on why this is so
5.) laziness. I just don’t force myself to write anymore like I used to. I could list the excuses but I think they are plain to see. I have all these big plans and I sitting on them like a mother hen waiting for her egg to hatch.
So what can I do? Do something! I think that is the biggest thing. If I got up and fought off the tiredness or stayed focused on something other then mindless games, I just might get somewhere. With the holidays coming I highly doubt I will fight exhaustion but I think I just need to do something and not sit around. You know what that egg will be fine…
People ask me all the time, what is my favorite season and I say I love them all. Which I do. There is something very magical about every season and with every season there is a poem written. For whatever reason I write a lot more winter poetry. I think it is because I enjoy the stillness of a winter night while the snow cascades down the yard like a stopped glacier.
Anyway, I know it has been awhile since I posted a new poetry challenge and I need something to inspire myself because my writing has been lacking lately.
This is a very easy challenge especially if you enjoy haikus!
As always you participate in the challenge let me know and I post a link to your work from this post. I am asking for nothing in return. I just want to help inspire you to write poetry.
Here is the challenge: Write a series of haikus (in English a 5-7-5 syllable pattern) about fall. The series should be 5 haikus. You can organize however you wish. 5 haikus on Fall. Can’t get any easier than that because every season is inspirational!
I can’t wait to read your work.
The participants:
Jennifer M Scott’s Dance with Autumn
An interesting poll question was posed by @Writer’sRelief who is creepier, Poe or Stephen King. Since I love them both I wrote back and said that. A reply came said to choose one and I chose Poe and I will tell you why.
Stephen King is a master horror novelist, he sucks into his stories and lets you go at the end. I don’t normally spend much time thinking about one of his books after I am done reading them. He is very good at short stories and I love them very much but again I don’t think too much about them after I am done reading them.
With Poe, it is very different. I can read a story and I find myself thinking about the story later on. It dives into my psyche. Perhaps, his horror, the first person voice, the moment of utter brokeness of the character in a very short package makes a bigger impact on me. Some of my favorite stories of Poe’s are The Black Cat, The Cask of Amontiallado and The Raven plus a slew others.
I aspire to be like Stephen King and Poe and while I search for my writing voice, I find myself closer to the genre I started writing years ago, horror. I find myself excited when I write a new horror story. With my aspirations set very high to be like Poe and King, perhaps what I have been seeking all this time was always with me.
I would love to know who you think is creepier Poe or King.
I embarked on a poem of epic proportions about two weeks ago. The poem quickly changed direction and when I typed the poem I cut this line because it no longer made sense. It is weird but a beautiful thing when this happens. I thought this was a pretty good line and originally planned to use this line recurring. Since it was cut I am offering this line for you to use in your own poems.
Ah heck why not even make it a poetry challenge. So this week’s poetry challenge if you choose to accept is this use the line: wine and gold always flow north. As always there are deadlines, if you found the line to be inspiring, drop me a line and I will post the link to your poem on this post.
So if you want to read the poem that this line was cut from you can read The Thrill of the Kill. Please note there is strong violence and gore so the poem is intended for mature audiences.
Good luck with the challenge. I can not wait to read your poems.
I know its been awhile since I posted a new challenge. I just didn’t force myself to sit down with the thought in mind to create. When I do have a plan in mind, I can come up with a topic fairly easy. At first I thought I would do a surreal inspired poem but I think I will save that for another time.
As I was sitting here thinking about the challenge, I decided to step outside and take in the late summer air and look at the bright planets and stars that are gracing my night sky. And I came up with something and this my dear friends is the next poetry challenge.
Remember these challenges are only to inspire you, there are no deadlines and when you complete a poem let me know and I will add the link to your poem to this list of people who completed the challenge.
Okay here is the challenge: use this line on salvation’s road laden with lavender lollipops at least once in your poem. Of course, feel free to use the line as many times as you wish.
I look forward to reading your poems. Good luck with the challenge
Read the participants!
Zorlone’s A Golden Wizard’s Sympathy
Gregg T Nakayama’s Aftermath
Jennifer M Scott Lucid Thoughts
Out of all the amendments in the constitution, the first amendment is the one I hold dear. Probably it is because I am not Christian and I am a writer. I just love “freedom of speech” And I was thinking about what to do for the next poetry challenge, I thought I would spice it up a little bit and find a free to use picture to inspire a poem.
Strangely enough all I had to do was type in “free artwork to use” and I found The Art of David Dees these are very politically charged images, some maybe disturbing to some. They are free to use, so if you take this challenge, feel free to use the picture as long as you are not making money from the picture. Which I am not by the way, since this is a free blog. Anyway the artist encourages the masses to use his work.
And here is the challenge, use this image for inspiration for a poem:
Yes the image is about free speech.
As always if you write the poem, drop me a note and I post your link on this post as persons who did the challenge. There are no deadlines.
Good luck!
Read the participants:
Jennifer M Scott’s Censor Me
I wonder did I lose my passion for the craft as I sit here focusing on everything but writing? Or am I in one of these lulls of I have to find something or discover something or something has to push my writing along. When I did the free tarot reading for my birthday it mentioned something about I am stuck but I can get myself out if I open to new experiences. Of course my mind frame has been on other things as well.
I don’t want to quit, I don’t want to do anything. Days like these are the worst for me because I feel like I am letting my dreams slip away. Because I am doing nothing that has to do with writing. No editing, no preparing of manuscripts, no searching for publishers none of that. Perhaps I bore myself to tears.
Do you know how hard it is turn around 20 plus years of thinking one way trying to think positive all the time. And relax a little more and fret less. There are days when I can be positive about myself and writing but not all the time. I do lack a lot of confidence. And I am paranoid of the future. Maybe I really am afraid of success and I sabotage myself and this is why I am not great because I can think of a million reasons why I shouldn’t keep pursuing my writing dreams and only one to keep on with it.
Must think positive, I just know I have to do something. I think I spend far too much time doing nothing and waiting for the world to come to me.
Well it’s that time of month when I post the new poetry challenge. This time I wanted to use one line and where I do I fond this line- Google of course. I picked a word “ignite” and went to work. I came upon this quote which is very well known (although I never heard of it before but now I am intrigued to read this poet’s book).
Okay boys and girls here is the challenge: Use the phrase “For I light my candle from their torches.” Robert Burton- The Anatomy of Melancholy . Just a little note he was alive from 1577-1640 which is about the same time as Canterbury Tales and I find the English difficult but beautiful. I just might buy this book.
Another tidbit I found about the quote was many people tag as it a leadership quote. I can see where this idea comes from but I am sure there are a multitude of meanings for this line and I would love it if in encapsulated in a poem. As always when you write the poem, let me know and I will post the link here. Good luck with the challenge!
Read these wonderful poets who took the challenge:
Zorlone’s Lamenting in Darkness
Dragonblogger’s Angry Mob
Holly Elizabeth Jean’s And I Shall Follow
Jennifer M Scott’s Calm Bequeaths me Solitude
Slipping into her parent’s house well after midnight, she kicked off her shoes and turned the television on. Sophie shed her shirt that said “kiss me I am the birthday girl” and slipped out of her black skirt and laid on the bed.
Her day started normal, normal for her anyway. Up at noon to go to work. A pot of coffee at home and another fancy more expensive cup one the way to work. She pulled into the parking lot and saw her ex boyfriend licking some hoe bag’s cheek. Her fists clenched the steering wheel and sped into a parking spot.
He is a fucking loser anyway she thought to herself as she stepped out into the sunshine look at him working at some dead end job with place to go but down. One more glance at his wicked smile and laughing, her heart wrenched. Today was not going to be a good day despite it was her 21st birthday.
Stopping in the bathroom and made sure her hair was pleasant and smiled. Some people remembered it was her birthday and wished her a good one. Why didn’t she take off today? She planned on it as her the ex were supposed to go somewhere and spend all day together.
Sophie Bennett picked her head up and tossed her shoulders back and knew she was the bomb and people knew she was the bomb. Suddenly she heard “Last Resort” by Papa Roach. She whipped around and it was a ringtone. For that breif moment she thought of Todd.
Her mind drifted to Todd. Her first time fucking at the time she thought it was making love. She was 17 and he was 25 and worked at the gas station where she got gas all the time. He chased and chased her. He was tall and slender with blonde spiky hair. Finally she relented and went on a date with him.
He made her laugh. He didn’t screw her the first night but he wanted him to. She couldn’t wait to be with him again so called him and they went out the following night. She drove to a park and moved in on him. He didn’t stop nor did she let him stop. They dated for months and then she turned 18.
The ex boyfriend walked in and wished her a happy birthday and Sophie snarled. On break she called her best friend and they made plans for a major drunk fest as soon as she was done work. Todd drifted back into the doldrums where he belonged.
Andie picked her up at work and took her to the bar. Man after man kissed Sophie and she loved every minute of it. She got many numbers, she knew she would have plenty to keep her busy for the next month.
Sophie yawned and flipped the channel to MtV2 and “Last Resort” came on. She bolted upright and stared at the screen as the words “Happy Birthday Sophie love Todd” scrolled across the screen. She rubbed her eyes, shut off the televsion and knew she was wasted. Her cell phone beeped and it was a message from a number she didn’t know “happy bday bitch now you’ll pay- t.”
poetry prompts | J Scott | 
November 18, 2009 11:07 pm | 
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