I don’t have time for this. This prompt is stupid, besides no way am I going there. I have way too much to do. The business of writing becoming once again my excuse not to write. For today’s prompt, write a ten poem. The poem could have ten lines, ten syllables, and/or have ten syllables
Seems like the right week for a reprise of this little ditty (as I once again file an extension).
Letter to the IRS
Every year I promise myself and the government that I
will not file an extension.
That I will be a good citizen and get
“Sara, how you doing?”
A complex question. I was sitting in a nice
house with no job, two kids, and I’d just received the bad news that my former
husband was also unemployed so there would be no more health insurance or child
I just sent a finished (I think) manuscript off to my editor, I accomplished my first 30 mile bike ride, and had our first school visit of the year at Chardon Middle School, right in our back yard. The leaves are feeling crackly, the temperature is dropping and evening is crowding the
Okay, his name was not Jim, but other than that, the following poem is a true story. Hard to imagine any boy wouldn’t have gone for those bangs and too young for braces buck teeth. I wore extra petticoats because I wanted hips like Annette Funicello,
Some poems visit you at sunset. Some haunt you in the wee hours with Jabberwocky logic because, let’s face it, anything seems logical at 3AM. There are poems you reach for when a friend dies, when a
A wise philosopher (Cher?) once said that “everyday’s a new audition.” That’s a lot of pressure!
And no time is that more evident than January 1, when we resolve something or other starting with the new year.
In the writing and the reading, poetry gives me pause. To
we reject the single story, when we realize that there is never a single story about
any place, we regain a kind of paradise.”
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
OMG, it’s coming.
The publisher (Red Giant Press) said the hard copy proof is in the
Why do you write sad poems?
Defensive answer: I don’t ONLY write sad poems. Did you see the one about how happiness comes hopping? Or the one about saying gross things at the dinner table? Funny stuff. Seriously funny. Not sad. Not sad at all.
Self-conscious answer: Oh, no. That didn’t make
What’s weird, conducts electricity, and is a good citizen?
The poets of Pasir Ridge International School in Balikpapan,
Indonesia, of course!
Balikpapan is a strange sounding place populated by friendly and familiar faces. Who could forget a mascot such as the one above? I