Ronovanwrites new challenge is to write Cinquain. A cinquain poem is a five-line poem with a specific syllable pattern: 2, 4, 6, 8, 2. It’s a short, focused form of poetry that can be written about almost anything.
Welcome to a new year of writing syllabic poetry. Please read the rules, updated for the new year,2023 HERE.
Back by popular demand, our first poetry challenge of 2023 from Colleen Chesebro is to write your poem by selecting synonyms for the two words below. Do not use the two words—synonyms only.
This week I have chosen to write a Tanka.
New & Experience.
A novel feeling An encounter with nature Never before felt Completely out of the blue To be one with the ocean.
It is so lovely to have you back Colleen, to feel the warmth of our poetic family once more, here’s to 2023.💜💜💜💜
It’s Saturday and LindaGHill is here with our prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday. “Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “new/knew.’” Use one, use both, use them any way you like. Bonus points if you use both. Enjoy!
It was late, the year was done and leaving no doubt Death was pushing the New Year in as Old Father Time was on his way out.
Everywhere plans were being made for beginnings shiny and new Death and Old Father Time raised an eyebrow it was all rubbish, they knew.
Death knew he would spend his time as he did time and again Just doing his job without complaint clearing up the fall out of mankind’s pain.
From the crashed car, to a bomb in a cafe or knife fight in the dark A plane crash, train wreck, a war, climbing accident or tragedy in the park.
Old Father time had seen it all , in technicolour more than once before He patted Death on the shoulder as he trudge towards the sunrise once more.
He slipped on spilt blood on the floor and stepped over miss chances He knew them so well, he passed by the plotters and suicides ready for one way dances.
A cry from the pram made the old guys both jump, Why did hope always arrive at this time of year, in this dump
The New Year was gurgling and burbling with joy, eyes bright on horizons new Painting rosy lies across the world, closing it’s eyes to badness and feelings of blue.
No time for moping said old Father Time Get on with your work Death all will be fine. That shiny New Year there in the pram Will be worn out and tired like us at the end of this year’s scam.
Death gave a wave of his scythe. Old Father Time raised his hand in reply. Both resigned to the fact that nothing was new. This farce was their fate over and over they knew.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “new/old.” Use either or both of the words “new and old” any way you’d like. Bonus points for starting and ending with either one. Have fun!
News hit my email that made me sad. Though it was not other than my I might of expected yet I am railing against it. Nothing new, age old it’s the circle we all go through no one and nothing lives forever.
I tossed and turned and in my dreams I was lost on a journey on a train. Again nothing new about that, it seems I am forever lost. I awoke ever hour on the hour, same old scared feeling. Life goes on until it stops. None of this makes sense.
Standing in the golden glow of dawn they felt the true meaning of “A New Day” . They could see for miles from here, sadly there was nothing much left to see.
It looks just like the books showed it to be but not as colourful. The light though, they had never seen anything like it, nor had they felt this warmth upon their faces. They were glad of their eye protectors.
Those who had last walked free up here had been dead at least fifty years now. These two, Adam and Eve, were the first two chosen to walk the earth since the nuclear holocaust had excelorated the climate change. Making planet Earth inhabitable.
They had been tasked with the job of reconnaissence to find out if it was finally safe to emerge from underground. The first couple to walk the earth for two hundred years.
They sampled the water and tested it, they took geiger counter readings, and samples of the as many plants the could find. The amount of insects amazed them, there were so many.
They spent a week working. The night before their return they were so excited about being the bearers of good news. It was, at last safe for the masses to return above ground.
The next day they started the long journey home, they were looking forward to some fresh grown food and a rest from the light and the weather.
They were greeted by the elders and passed on their findings.
Eve unwittingly also passed on an invisible virus.
The virus was virulent it wiped out every single survivor within a month. Millions died no one survived, it started inocently with a sneeze. Soon all of the animals died too. The crops wasted and withered, only the insects survived.
1. It’s never too late to join in, since the “Jot it” part of JusJoJan means that anything you jot down, anywhere (it doesn’t have to be a post) counts as a “Jot.” If it makes it to WordPress that day, great! If it waits a week to get from the sticky note to your screen, no problem!
2. If you write a JusJoJan post on your blog, you can ping it back to the above link to make sure everyone participating knows where to find it.
3. Write anything!
4. Have fun!
Welcome to my “Heartland Echoes,” where I aim to share my poems with the world, along with my survival story and autobiography of childhood abuse, motivational quotes, and much more. Through my words, I hope to inspire others to share their own stories and experiences. Each poem is a piece of my heart and soul, along with a story of a traumatic past, crafted with inspiration, Hope, faith, love and passion. I believe that by sharing our art and emotions, I’ll be able to connect with others on a deeper level and create a sense of community.
willowdot21 
