Writing Prompt

A few weeks ago, I attended Poets at Play and the proctor provided a writing prompt.  I didn’t follow the prompt that day, but decided to try it out while I was relaxing at the beach the following day.  I’ve listed both the prompt and my poem below 🙂

The Prompt:
Make a list of the following things and include them in your poem

  • 3-4 colors
  • 3-4 sounds
  • 3-4 flavors
  • 3-4 parts of the body
  • 1 factual statement
  • 1 command
  • 1 thing you lost
  • 1 particular question
  • 1 abstract question
  • several locations
  • several objects
  • 1-2 living creatures
  • 2-3 kinesthetic adjectives

My Poem

I arrived at Seacliff Beach
in my metallic baby blue minivan,
dressed in a neon pink shirt,
a flapping lavender skirt,
and modern happy black sunglasses.
I can’t stop… dancing to the music.

Birds chirping in the sky,
dolphins swimming in the ocean.
The scent of smoked sausage
drifts in my nostrils
and I can’t stop
popping flaming hot
cheetos into my mouth.

My big toe caresses the sand.
I am writing a poem at the beach,
sitting in my camping chair,
tapping my knee cap
as visions of the past
drifts into mind.

“What time is the turkey done?”
my grandparents asked
over the loud hum
of the refrigerator
as I stood on the balcony
eating mint chocolate chip
ice cream,
watching the dog’s leash
get caught on the tree trunk.

A fly buzzed by
my ear lobe just then,
just like the time
at Levi’s Stadium.
I was so distracted,
I hit my funny bone
and dropped my nachos.

Nothing was as bad
as discovering bed bugs
in our room
on the cruise ship
and hearing the fast
clickety-clack
of high-heeled shoes
on the dock
every hour, every night,
more annoying
than the loud rev
of a Harley engine starting.

Is my sanity worth more
than human compassion?

A tangent of images,
a tangent of thoughts
based on a list of words.
Maybe it’s time…
to leave the beach.

seacliff.jpg

  • Please note that majority of events and locations (other than me writing at the beach) are entirely fictional.

Today’s Life Lesson

I apologize for not posting in so long, but I’ve been really busy with life.  Anyhow, this rhyme popped into my head today and I thought it would make for a perfect meme.  Sometimes, when the times are tough and you need to keep your sanity, it’s best to just walk away, move on and live your life.

yak.jpg

 

Memory Poem #10: Jillian: Dressing Up

Jillian put on the pink, lace dress
that softly caressed her body,
hugging her waist, her hips, her chest.
The wind blew against her bare legs.
She felt naked without her pants.

Perhaps a beauty fail,
she threw her hair
into a ponytail.
A little foundation, a little blush
will make the boys fall into lust.

Eyeliner and mascara
will make her look fairer,
except she looked like a terror
instead, or so she thought.

Dressed in a gown,
she felt like a clown.
Staring in the mirror,
faking a kiss,
she had no idea
how made-up girls
felt confident.

Walking awkwardly
in platform shoes,
strutting like a man,
she had to finesse
her steps, cuz after all,
she was a lady in a dress.

She threw a punch in the mirror
and laughed at how silly she looked.
She may be a pink rose,
but she definitely had thorns.

Today she had to fit in
as she la de da’ed
to the gardens
with the other girls.

jillian1
image from Google

Read more memory poems here.

Memory Poem #9: Lance & Mina: Morning Breeze

Watching Mina draw
was as soothing
as watching the birds
without the need 
for binoculars.

Her long, dark curls
danced in the wind
as her eyes shifted
from the ocean
to the canvas,
from the canvas
to the ocean,
and back.

The tip of her colored pencils
pressed against the canvas
back and forth, back and forth,
in a crosshatch pattern,
sometimes gently, sometimes not,
just like the ocean waves.

He loved how their lives
intertwined like the lines
on her sketchbook,
adding depth and beauty.

He watched her cheeks
glow a rosy pink
under the golden sky.
Her cream-colored blouse
billowed in the wind.

She smiled as she sketched.
Her lips – a soft, smooth
magenta pink,
and he wanted to kiss
her right then.

She took a sip
of her coffee,
leaving some lipstick
behind
and interrupted
his thoughts.

“What’s your story?”
she asked, looking at him
with her inquisitive eyes.

morning-breeze
art by Sung Kim

Read more memory poems here.