I apologize for the lack of posts this week. On Monday I had a king-sized headache, and on Tuesday I took photographs instead.
Back to our regularly-scheduled busting of writer’s block! This prose poem is courtesy of my spam folder.
“Too busy to go back to school?” she huffed, dangling the highball glass between thumb and …
timid animal
domestic life
“Hello? O, hi, Cheryl. No, I’m not busy, just working on the kids’ bedroom at the moment. You know, the same old thing, cat walked through and wrecked the whole left edge. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with what I’m given, Cheryl. I just don’t know. You know Stan, always promising …
being three
Something I am learning from this exercise: the prompts often launch me in a completely different direction. I wonder what that’s about.
I am reading a book called “How to Be an Adult in Relationships: The Five Keys to Mindful Loving” by David Richo, and this passage struck me today:
Childhood forces influence present choices, for the …
salad days
Despite all the wonderful prompts, this poem did not originate from one; it has been rolling around in my head all day, and must be let out.
garnish
me with
more than
green
side to side
start with
white plate
blue eyes
flutter
lashes
long and
cautious
where do
I find you
fresh and
warm
crisp or
wilted
fingers grasp
for past
shredded
hearts
dressed with
time
[Less than 100 words, but that’s where it wanted to end. Want to …
beards
This one from abecedarius surprised me, simply: “beards.”
I woke up with one clear thought: pain. My face hurt; my lips were being pulled back from my teeth in a jack o’ lantern sneer. Opening one eye, I reached up to my lips and felt tiny hands.
“Hey, asshole,” someone very far away said. “Where’s the …
slate and stove
Today’s blockbuster prompt is from Davmoo: “Please write 100 words on …your favorite childhood memory.”
The wood stove in our living room was surrounded by pieces of slate. Old radiators kept the corners of the other rooms warm, but the wood stove, the old general, boomed forth waves of heat well into winter nights. Cats curled …
summer blockbusters
And I don’t mean the Transformers sequel kind.
You and I will bust through my writer’s block this July. We will do this together! All you need to do is give me a prompt, and I will use it to write at least 100 words each day of July.
Send your prompts via comments here or via …
To live in this world
Years ago, during a period of grieving, I sent this excerpt from Mary Oliver’s poem “In Blackwater Woods” to my father:
To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.
Another period of …
something else
My boots are slippers, my slippers boots.
Uncommon to see cars cease at a red;
instead we all inch forward, lurch through.
Can I have to I would like:
our exchanges change with age.
Nothing is what anything is –
traffic, shoes, words
– all something else.
HMB © 2009
What vs. Which
When my friends have grammar questions, they often ask me for help. I don’t consider myself a very good teacher of grammar, however, because the rules make sense to me more intuitively than logically. Sometimes, though, there are rules that make sense on both levels. The difference between “what” and “which” is …