Challenge from Lauryl and Lizzie: Write a poem in two voices – a conversation about what is thought and what is actually said. Use italics.
Mornings with Boo Radley and Fitz
Good morning, Boo Radley! Good morning, Fitz! Stop licking my face! Who needs to go outside?
BR: Why else would we be licking your face? Of course we need to go out.
F: Does she have dementia? She seriously asks us this every morning.
Okay, Boys. Step it up. Do your business.
BR: We both step it up every time. We can’t get these legs any higher, Mom.
F: It’s like the movie Groundhog Day and I’m Bill Murray. She ain’t right.
Good Boys! Let’s go inside. Who wants a treat?
BR: I’ll think about it. If you’re having bacon and offer me a lowly cracker, the deal’s off.
F: Me! Me! Pick me! I’ll take his cracker, too.
Okay, boys. Mom’s getting in the shower now. Go lay down.
BR: Oh, Jeez! Put that face mask over my eyes, will ya? Have you looked in the mirror lately?
F: Dang, she needs to lay off the Corona snacks. Check out that cellulite!
BR: Yeah, and she’s no true blonde, either. If her friends only knew all that we know…….
F: Aw, man! She needs a pedicure. Those toes are looking dapple. Reminds me of my ex.
Off to Zoom, boys. Find your spot and don’t bark. Settle in. I’ll be finished at lunchtime.
BR: Okay, Fitz. You watch for the squirrels and I’ll watch for deer. Let’s bark at ten for a snack.
F: Yep. You bet. I might even poop outside her door in protest of this Zooming.
PAW HIGH FIVE! And off to separate ends of the couch…..for social distancing…
Challenge from Gayle Sands – write an ekphrastic poem by going into a historical photograph and using voice to capture the story there.
Alice Paul at the Seward-Belmont House:
– I chose this one because I KNOW that look! I’ve seen it too many times. And those were the looks that ultimately saved my life.
The Principal and the Preacher’s Daughter
Kimberly Lynn Haynes!
Why are you back here in my office again today?
Your daddy would be so ashamed of you!
Lean across that desk.
You know how this works.
Whack!
For stealing a box of chalk from Mrs. Sharpe’s class so you could play school at home.
Whack!
For ripping up Dawn Taylor’s lunch tickets and hiding them in the trash and blaming April Hudson.
Whack!
For writing a fake confession on April’s desk – in Mrs. Sharpe’s lipstick from her desk drawer.
Whack!
For daring Marvin Pirtle to pee in the soap dish and going in the boys’ bathroom to check the evidence.
Whack!
For playing a harmonica to add dramatic emphasis and trying to remain mysteriously undetected when Mrs. Myers was at the board teaching math.
Whack!
For going through Mrs. Myers’ desk to take back the harmonica she took from you when you were detected.
Whack!
For inciting a class chant for Randy Howard to “Take off your pants, Randy,” when his butt was itching because he forgot to rinse off the soap from his morning shower.
Whack!
For climbing the fence at recess and picking the kumquats from Mr. and Mrs. Gibson’s tree and then distributing the stolen goods.
Whack!
For offering to roll Karl Lewis in the tire at recess and deliberately rolling him into a tree.
Whack!
For sneaking Queenie Peavy home and finishing the class read-aloud ahead of time so you could give spoilers.
Whack!
And one for good measure. For being a preacher’s kid and not setting a better example. Let’s see if this can straighten you out for a day!
Challenge from K.A. Holt: Pick an item in the room and write some original words to describe it: dog walking boots, Timberlands, Michelin Tire Boy, Dumb and Dumber, waterproof bottoms, 7 1/2, Salvation Army $5 find, farm-perfect (I only used the word Farm in my title). Choose a poem format, and a literary device, and without using any of your original words – – write a poem about it.
Format: Etheree Poem
Literary Device: Alliteration
Funny Farm Footwear
slop
sloggers
mud muckers
feeding-time frump
goofy galoshes
whimsical wellingtons
witty wide water waders
camel-colored chicken coop cleats
her hilarious homestead hikers
frivolously funny fieldwork footwear
Fibonacci Sequence Poems are lines of poetry comprised of the total number of syllables in the preceding pair of lines, starting with 1, for a sequence of 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, and so on.
Doodle Doo
so
a
rooster
is too loud
in the city where
airplanes, firetrucks, sirens and trains
don’t want to be wakened so early to do their jobs?
Recycle a book by using it as a canvas for hours of fun creating Found Poetry!
infinite texts
invite me
to
get out of the house
to
cross the street
to
enter the forest
Challenge from Stacey Joy: write a poem inspired by music.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LLH49g_aQV0
Miriam
Miriam
she comes to us when we least expect it
hawks on a wire
redbirds at the feeder
wild turkeys in the yard
beeping seatbelt reminders
we were munching on popcorn
slurping cherry Icees
cocooned in our movie blankets
watching Emma
my Ansley and I
when those beloved lyrics
invoked her unticketed presence
perched right between us
arms around our shoulders
How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord
is laid for your faith in His excellent word
a congregational hymn at her funeral
her unwavering message to all of us
mother-daughter movies
popcorn and Icees
hymns that leave no questions
she comes to us when we least expect it
Challenge from Stacey Joy: Write a family trait poem – – modeled after Sandra Cisneros’ “Hairs.”
Traits are randomly scattered through my family – –
some are well-loved by everyone,
soft grandma-hugs no one resists
others are avoided and even shunned
barely tolerated, I’ll tell you
some stand at odd angles
gaps of uncomfortable social distances
others stand stoically shoulder-to-shoulder
in a steadfast show of solidarity and unity
some consider themselves high above others
showcased with spine tattoos that proclaim things
others are falling apart at the seams
held together by mere threads
some stick to their own homes
rarely a rendezvous, while
others venture out
wandering and visiting like dementia ward escapees,
until they are found and returned home where they belong
some have unsung talents
those obscure, never-made-popular voices that rival the famous
others drone on and on and on and on
incessantly chattering about what isn’t mattering to anyone
some speak in ambiguous code
others tell it flat like it is – like it or not
some spill all the family secrets
others disguise their own truths
“asking-for-a-friend” style, never admitting anything
some are painfully shy and soft-spoken
others lead the charge and WILL NOT! be silenced
some are well-traveled
have wined and dined and slept around with too many to count
others are pristine virgins
untouched, undesirable as yet
all have a place in the concerted chorus –
some blending,
others transcending
doing their best to cover those a bit off-key
unkempt books that fill my family shelves
some awake, vertical
others lazily dozing, horizontal
all waiting to be read and loved and accepted for who they are
Challenge: write a remade ransom poem.
Common Threads 
Almost a Conversation
Now that the world has stopped
and my footing isn’t as sure
as it was yesterday
and Dad still can’t function
I look for the hawk
for the redbird
for the wild turkey
I listen for the music
for the seat belt beep
for the clicking of the lock
I watch the skies for telling clouds
But what I really need, Mom,
is to sit with you
to talk with you
to listen to you
to hear your voice
to smell your hair
to feel your touch
to see an ethereal you
over a cup of Earl Grey
to have a conversation
about what the truth is