16 November 2011


If Nothing Else This November . . .

letter W Ampersand on a Blue Awning (Washington, DC) q
number 1 number 7

I may not have the mental energy to finish one of my own smackdowns, but there is nothing I want to do more than write another poem.

Who's with me???

(Yes, I know it's really late in the month for this . . . but if we can all promise to get our poems in by 30 November, it should be all right. E-mail me your prompts if you're in!)


Belfry Bat said...

Guess what!

Enbrethiliel said...


Ooooh, what??? ;-)

dylan said...

Signorina! Ecco la poesia!

(Here's my poem.)

antiaphrodite said...

Gaaah!! I lost track of the time!! I'm so sorry X-(

Word: salad

Question: Is this your parasol?

I saw many things
After I stepped outside and went on my way

There along a path I tread
Spread the rows of undergrowth
As well as the overgrowth and overhang
That could have been gathered in
Bouquets, presented as gifts,
Or tossed into a dish for a meal
Of salad

For as such I have thought
Of meals and tables laden
Though, certainly, I don’t remember
When it was that I tasted
The fare I had last taken

I passed many sights
As I continued on my journey

By the side of the road lurking
Or in the ditches, watching
Scurrying past buildings and
Sneaking through shadows
Were the watchers, informants, and proxies

And as the storm raged around me
Each one came up to my face so drenched
All twirling their parasols
Together came up to me, and made to declare,
With aplomb
Nothing here is for eating
And we have all the shade, so there!

Salome Ellen said...

I have posted my poem within the deadline! (But it was a near thing...)