National Public Radio: 6 word memior

I was listening to NPR today on my way to work at 1:30 from finding out I have ruptured my eardrum, and the guests on the show we talking about this 6 word memoir challenge they started on the internet. They are asking everyone who wishes to participate to submit a 6 word maximum account of your entire life as you feel about it at that moment of writing. They said it could be a dynamic summary, allowing people to submit as many as they want based on the dramatic events in you life. I am so deaf right now that a lot of what they were saying was inaudible, so I don't know where you submit this to, or what it is for, or what they do with them. I do, fortunately, know that this is a pretty incredible thing, and that my next 6 words, following the period of this sentence, will be may 6 word memoir:



no longer struggling; genuine. godless. super-mom.

DNA

A poem of genetics: just for fun!

Patterns of inheritance 

Selective through distributions

identified in dominance

leads us towards our destination

complimentary strands of time

his Law proved predictable

combinations of distinct lines

confirming we are uniteable

acquired characteristics of an individual

strengthened by chance

but relative traits prove residual

acting by facilitating reactions

corresponding through translation

expression is the function of our complexity 

recombining variations in our population

constant interacting enhances our stability

Prompt #07 Wrong Hands

From www.notwithoutpoetry.wordpress.com:

Wrong Hands

Mike says: I am recently obsessed with magic. Not just any magic. The top shelf stuff. Homer Liwag is an amazing slight of hand artist, and yet he is known for having “the worst hands in magic.” By some bad luck of the genetic draw, they are chronically as dry as the desert. This is one of the reasons I find Homer’s performance so poetic, the striking contrast between the beauty of the movement and his “retired” hands. They seem like the wrong hands…not to mention the fact that when you’re looking for the coins, you are almost always looking at the wrong hand.




His Own Hands


His own future could not be determined
by the strength of his own hands
but rather by the helical ladder 
of which only the strongest can climb

Prompt #06: Flora

Prompt #06: Flora

Today’s prompt is from poet Bill Noble:

***

Scrolling down from the top of this page you’ll find a display of the astonishing variety of one species of spring-blooming iris in the wild lands around my home, Iris douglasii. The prompt? Spring. The general exuberance and complexity of life. Any or all of the erotic associations blooms have (the fleur-de-lis is supposed to be not just an iris but stylized male genitals). Or none of the above.

Title: Spring Transition

Floral expressions

stop short the wind blows

to take away alway all that we know

to free mother's repressions

New life and repercussions

faint breeze chills

soon to be summer thrills

sudden death deep depressions

Forget me not ambitions

scent of rain in the distance

growth meet resistance

spring fight forth to transition

Prompt #05: Strange Little Drawing

Prompt #05: Strange Little Drawing

Today’s written prompt and image is from Jeremy Edwards.

This prompt is sort of like the infamous New Yorker caption contest. (Infamous because I never won.) Only instead of a caption, your challenge is to create a poem that’s inspired–however loosely–by the strange little drawing I’ve created. So let your imaginations run wild! I think he/she/they/it need(s) all the help you can provide in making some sense.

Breakfast with Pops

Reflective translations

are his intention

recreated in your actions

mimicks subtle motivation

thriving for adoration

requiring your attention

inspired by your affection

he looks at you with admiration 

during your breakfast tradition

Prompt #04: Book + Picture

Prompt #04: Book + Picture

Today’s prompt is brought to us by Robin Sampson.

Grab a book of poetry. Try not to be too picky. From the last line of the first poem, take a word or phrase and write it down. Now, from the first line of the last poem, take a word or phrase and write it down. Now, from a random line from a random poem somewhere in between the first and the last poems, take a word or phrase and write it down. With those three words or phrases, and this picture, write.

Sorry guys. As lame as this may seem, I don't have a poetry book on hand..

I may have to do this one last! I got lots of catching up to do!

Prompt #01: No Narrative

Oops I skipped #1

Stop to smell the roses
as the roses die
Stop to view the sunset
as the sun begins to rise
Stop to hear the sirens
as they sound to fade
Distruction, corruption, disgusting
Not enough time with you

Today’s prompt, to kick off our 30 days of poetry writing, is brought to us by poet Sage Cohen.

***

Reveal Something Without a Narrative

My invitation today is to say something without actually saying it. To reveal something through a series of images, rhythms, and sounds that give us more of an experience of, or a feeling about, what happened rather than the actual facts, events and story line. The following questions are designed to help you get loose and wander into a scene or two in which you might want to include your reader.

Praying Mantis

She calls to you across a crowded room

No such beauty has noticed you before

known by many less eager men 

they call her the praying mantis 

her body voicing you to advance

what does she sees in you

you don't hesitate or question 

their fear bid you no warning

her beauty slant your judgement

knowing your modest wife awaits your drunken taste

you are a man with manly appetites

you may have your way with her

but she will have her's too

as her naked body approaches yours in her bed  

blood splattered, your head shucked across the floor

Today’s prompt brought to you by Kirsty Logan:

Inspired by the photo above, write a poem that includes the words ‘voicing’, ‘shucked’, and ‘slant’.”

***

Reminders for Participants: You can post your poem below in the comments, offer a link back to your site where the poem is posted, or comment about the experience of writing the poem (without actually posting the poem). If you’re going to comment on other participant’s poems, please remember that this is not a critique space — comments should be kept thoughtful and supportive. Lastly, remember you don’t have to use the prompt to write your poem — they’re here for your inspiration but they’re certainly not a requirement.

Let the Wild Poeming Being!

Bouts of Kleptomania

Dear Admired,

long loves are not always lost or forgotten.

can you remember me?

we knew each other once,

before life's lessons taught us much about nothing

I still see you, you as you are

living in the home that tequila built from an empty heart

the mundanes of the world have placed circles around your beautiful blue eyes now black

where have I seen you before? 

some distant life that once connected our absent minds

I sat next you unwilling to see you as I do 

we were different then, but you recognized what I failed to see similar

I see you now, you as you are

beauty in white and red has never been so desirable

even more than yesterday

life continues despite dramatic love and passion

pulls apart during the daylight busy hours

meet with me tonight

As old lovers rekindle steady flames

I want you now, you as you are

you as you were, and will be 

-Admirer

Write a poem in the form of a letter to a person you desire but have not told, telling him or her what you would like to do to them.

***

Reminders for Participants: You can post your poem below in the comments, offer a link back to your site where the poem is posted, or comment about the experience of writing the poem (without actually posting the poem). If you’re going to comment on other participant’s poems, please remember that this is not a critique space — comments should be kept thoughtful and supportive. Lastly, remember you don’t have to use the prompt to write your poem — they’re here for your inspiration but they’re certainly not a requirement.