\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
    February    
SMTWTFS
      
2
3
4
5
6
7
9
10
11
12
13
14
17
18
19
20
23
24
25
26
27
28
Archive RSS
Printed from https://web1.writing.com/main/books/item_id/2227002-Random-Acts-of-Poetry/day/2-1-2025
by Ned Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Book · Emotional · #2227002

A poem a day keeps the cobwebs off my keyboard.

A place for the poetry that I will need to write now that I made a special book for it.
February 1, 2025 at 9:18am
February 1, 2025 at 9:18am
#1083107
The lawn is a crazy quilt of blankets.
Children hop and squeal with sparklers in hand,
their necks are ringed with glowing bands
to prevent them slipping into the night unseen.
The patriots chatter while they wait,
Grandpas in lawn chairs rumble and snore,
Vendors bark their prices trying to sell more,
To the crowd gathered on the green,

The crack of a rocket splits the sky
the babbling of the crowd is hushed.
Every face in anticipation is flushed,
As they hold their collective breath.
Until the burst of light ignites
and spreads out in a sizzling display.
It falls in drops, as if it may
land in the hands of those now deaf.

Racks of ribs rattle with the boom and din
hordes of hearts temporarily stop,
then beating with pride, they pop
into the rhythm of the national hymn.


Written for "PromptMaster !Open in new Window.

Task Prompt:
Using onomatopoeia, write a poem describing a crowded event. Make at least one sound jarring.
February 1, 2025 at 7:02am
February 1, 2025 at 7:02am
#1083104
I walked the concrete squares and cracks
of the city, glimpses of me flickering in
shop windows like a double exposure
the mannequin within and the one without.

A thousand other feet beat their own rhythm
A thousand unseen faces searched for meaning ,
counting down the street lights
looking for a sign, leaving trails of frosty breath.

A million lives are lived together
in rows and blocks from east to west.
They brush up against each other
mumbled apologies instead of relationships.

I long to stare into the open maw
of those barefaced chasms cut by glaciers,
to be enveloped by the emptiness
and thereby banish the loneliness.
I would stand upon the edge of the abyss
and call to the ancient ghosts of time.
They would echo back to me,
and call me by name.


20 Lines

Written for "PromptMaster !Open in new Window.

Prize Prompt:
The thing you’d most like to shout into an empty canyon just to hear the echo.


Prize Prompt:
The thing you’d most like to shout into an empty canyon just to hear the echo.


© Copyright 2025 Ned (UN: nordicnoir at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Ned has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Printed from https://web1.writing.com/main/books/item_id/2227002-Random-Acts-of-Poetry/day/2-1-2025