Day the twenty-fourth

The prompt is a fruit.

corruption

the seed of our downfall is encased
within the crisp skin, and the
sweet flesh is an unfulfilled
raindrop promise of freedom

Day the nineteenth

Today the prompt is basically found trivia.

 The hallway

The hallway was a neglected room,
Although not really a room at all,
More an intermission between the more
Definite movements of the living room,
The kitchen, or the bedroom.
No one usually sits and reads in the hallway,
No one goes there in order to listen to
A programme on the radiogram.
No, the hallway is a transitory place,
In the house, but not entirely of the house,
On the way from here to there, from
Downstairs to upstairs, from day to night.
In the hallway live the coats between outings,
The hats that are used only now and then,
The gloves that are not even in pairs any more,
And the umbrellas await the grabbing hand
When someone sees rain as they open the door.
On the chest in the hallway live the keys
Deposited as a resident passes from 'the world'
Into 'the home', a symbolic waiting area to
Pass from life through to death.
The hallway is purgatory with an ill-defined
Purpose, it is neither heaven nor hell, but
An ante-chamber to either, or a point of
Last return, from here you may go back
Or you may choose to go on but you cannot stay.
In this the universal hallway.

Day the fourteenth

Today the prompt is a poem, poet or person that is your inspiration. My thoughts turn straightway to Edwin Muir . . .

The horses

The day the horses returned was the first day of normal rain.
That morning the clouds had foregathered in massed ranks
Of steel grey cushions, sky bound in wind-driven train,
A storm of nature's making, and we could give thanks.

Until this day the world had rained poison and dripped death,
Echoes of armageddon reverberated in each thunder clap,
And fear laced the raindrops, the wind's ice-sharded breath
Seemed to us, cowered in shelter, to be one more killing trap.

But once the radios were silent, and the ships had sailed on,
The skies slowly lightened, night brought the moon out and stars,
We slowly emerged in the tentative light of a revisiting sun
To walk once again on the land that in healing was ours.

And this day the clouds brought us rain and a promise
And in the evening the horses to join us in harness.

Day the thirteenth

On this the the thirteenth day the prompt is a non-apology, the discourse so beloved of politicians and confidence tricksters . . .

I am (not) sorry

a thief I am, and I feel no regret,
whilst still I utter anodyne and
pointless phrases, my apology is
conditional for what have I done?

I stole the day and danced with the teasing breeze,
I stole the time to walk beside the taunting seas,
I stole the hours of rain to linger long,
I stole the moments in the wild birds' song.

For all these things I took and knew no shame,
For all these things I'd steal again and again.

Day the eighth

Today the prompt is to use a line from another poem - plagiarise in fact!


If . . .

To shiver like a root in the rain
To tremble like a wind-struck leaf
To venture one tentative step once again
To challenge the end with belief.

To dance like the storm in her eyes
To float as though eagled with wings
To cast a blanket of fear on the skies
Is to wait for the pain future brings.

Day the seventh

Today the prompt is to base a poem on a news article. I chose one from the Grauniad . . .

Recipe for success

Perfect shelves and unblocked drains are surely
All that anyone could ever wish for?
It would not matter that the cupboard doors
Fell off, or that the bathroom take keeps dripping
As long as the shelves and perfect and the drains unblocked.

Never mind that the roof is missing so many tiles
That you need an umbrella over the bed when it rains;
Never mind that the broken window means that
You need your winter coat, gloves and a hat to visit the loo.

Perfect shelves and unblocked drains are your guarantee
Of domestic harmony and bliss, they are your happiness
Assured from now on, your life will be trouble free
Because you have perfect shelves and unblocked drains.

Day the fifth

Today we are given twenty prompts but I have chosen just one - to write of the future, to make a prediction.


One day

And one day, when this is all over,
We shall sing together again;
We shall join our voices and drown out
The sound of raindrops on the parched ground.
And one day, when this is all over,
We shall meet and smile at each other;
We shall embrace our past and erase
The teardrop traces for a world in thrall
To the strident demands of power and
Money, and we shall reclaim this our land.