Poem prompt
Poem Prompt from Wednesday, February 02, 2011
This week’s Poets & Writers prompt:
Make a list of objects. One thing should be from your desk, one from your closet, one a body part, one a thing you covet that belongs to someone else, one enormous, one slippery, and at least one that makes an odd or evocative sound. Now, describe each using a simile. Do this twice for each one. Using as many of the similes as you can, write a poem with a title such as “Checklist to Survive a Nuclear Winter” or “Things That Have Nothing To Do With Grief.”
Pasted from
Here's my list of objects and similies:
Yellow chrysanthemums - as tree in Brooklyn; like an art nouveau portrait amid the art deco skyscrapers
Rubber band exercise equipment - like an unused shower cap; as potential energy holds back the kinetic energy
Hands - like the tools of a sculptor; like the mouths of hungry children
Understanding - like a deaf man with people screaming at him; like God among the creatures of the earth
Building - like a hollowed, dead Redwood full of squirrels; like the skyline of Metropolis
Flat mate - as a live fish in the hands of a toddler; as a guilty adolescent in a confessional
The man on the corner - like the billboard man outside the metro if he had no Jesus to proclaim; like a deaf man singing Amazing Grace
-
The man on the corner shouts like the preacher outside the metro, if he had no Jesus, no eschat to proclaim
Like the skyline of Metropolis, my building shoots up next to him, mockingly playing as a hollowed, dead Redwood full of squirrels
As a tree in Brooklyn, the chrysanthemums on my desk paint the art nouveau portrait amid the art deco giants beyond the window
A flat mate climbing the stair as a guilty adolescent in a confessional, another night of evasion, as a live fish in the hands of a toddler; I stand like God among the among the creatures of the earth, understanding, then crumble as a deaf man with people screaming at him
My hands grasp like the mouths of hungry children, as tools of a sculptor willing transformation
The man on the corner cries his senseless song, like a deaf man singing Amazing Grace, and I understand
-
Here's what I finally settled on:
Struggling for comprehension, I wander to my window.
The man on the corner shouts like the street preacher with no Jesus, no eschat to proclaim.
The skyline of Metropolis, my building shoots up next to him, mocking
a satire as a hollowed, dead Redwood full of squirrels .
As a tree in Brooklyn, the chrysanthemums on my desk in bright yellow
painting the art nouveau portrait amid the art deco giants that raise the sky.
A flat mate climbs the stair, glances sideways as a guilty adolescent
in a confessional, another night of evasion, as a live fish in the hands of a toddler.
I stand like God among the creatures of the earth,
understanding, then crumble as if built on foundations of sand.
My hands grasp like the mouths of hungry children,
as tools of a sculptor, willing transformation.
Rubber bands lie on the floor inert, as potential holds back
the kinetic, as an unused shower cap.
The man on the corner cries his senseless song, the deaf man singing
Amazing Grace. I understand.
This week’s Poets & Writers prompt:
Make a list of objects. One thing should be from your desk, one from your closet, one a body part, one a thing you covet that belongs to someone else, one enormous, one slippery, and at least one that makes an odd or evocative sound. Now, describe each using a simile. Do this twice for each one. Using as many of the similes as you can, write a poem with a title such as “Checklist to Survive a Nuclear Winter” or “Things That Have Nothing To Do With Grief.”
Pasted from
Here's my list of objects and similies:
Yellow chrysanthemums - as tree in Brooklyn; like an art nouveau portrait amid the art deco skyscrapers
Rubber band exercise equipment - like an unused shower cap; as potential energy holds back the kinetic energy
Hands - like the tools of a sculptor; like the mouths of hungry children
Understanding - like a deaf man with people screaming at him; like God among the creatures of the earth
Building - like a hollowed, dead Redwood full of squirrels; like the skyline of Metropolis
Flat mate - as a live fish in the hands of a toddler; as a guilty adolescent in a confessional
The man on the corner - like the billboard man outside the metro if he had no Jesus to proclaim; like a deaf man singing Amazing Grace
-
The man on the corner shouts like the preacher outside the metro, if he had no Jesus, no eschat to proclaim
Like the skyline of Metropolis, my building shoots up next to him, mockingly playing as a hollowed, dead Redwood full of squirrels
As a tree in Brooklyn, the chrysanthemums on my desk paint the art nouveau portrait amid the art deco giants beyond the window
A flat mate climbing the stair as a guilty adolescent in a confessional, another night of evasion, as a live fish in the hands of a toddler; I stand like God among the among the creatures of the earth, understanding, then crumble as a deaf man with people screaming at him
My hands grasp like the mouths of hungry children, as tools of a sculptor willing transformation
The man on the corner cries his senseless song, like a deaf man singing Amazing Grace, and I understand
-
Here's what I finally settled on:
Struggling for comprehension, I wander to my window.
The man on the corner shouts like the street preacher with no Jesus, no eschat to proclaim.
The skyline of Metropolis, my building shoots up next to him, mocking
a satire as a hollowed, dead Redwood full of squirrels .
As a tree in Brooklyn, the chrysanthemums on my desk in bright yellow
painting the art nouveau portrait amid the art deco giants that raise the sky.
A flat mate climbs the stair, glances sideways as a guilty adolescent
in a confessional, another night of evasion, as a live fish in the hands of a toddler.
I stand like God among the creatures of the earth,
understanding, then crumble as if built on foundations of sand.
My hands grasp like the mouths of hungry children,
as tools of a sculptor, willing transformation.
Rubber bands lie on the floor inert, as potential holds back
the kinetic, as an unused shower cap.
The man on the corner cries his senseless song, the deaf man singing
Amazing Grace. I understand.