FOP #1

15.6 religion

I've only ever seen crosses
As decoration, the wannabe-goth
Having nothing but silver to mark herself.

Other than that, God, I don't know
Where you reside, surely not in the ugly place
Inside of my mind, as I scribble about things
I don't understand, wondering if the choir
Could lighten up my head.

15.7 special occasion

I wake up at 7 AM almost ready
To go to work but I'm scribbling poems
On my phone and listening to my old crush
Thinking about his ex, wondering
If he's thinking about me too.

15.8 wild card

At 7 AM the river besides my house flows
A little louder than usual, and the wind
Is a little colder, and my heart
Hangs a little lower.

16.1 sense organ

He has a thousand fishes in his sea
And can't seem to catch any,
I only had him, and let him slip before my eyes
Back into the sea with a thousand fishes
Perhaps hoping for him to become
a merman to drown me, and for him
To become vegetarian with the thousand
Fishes of the sea.

16.2 funny

My ears perk up, alert to the sound
Of my parents sleepwalking down the stairs
With steps like a giant's, waiting for the doorknob to turn
And eyes to catch me writing poems, and me
Going in hiding as if I was watching porn.

16.3 formed poem - senryu

Brags about the ex
Like a non-stop radio -
Deadweight on my chest

16.4 Awakening

I'd like to live in India at least once
Learn how to walk in perfume,
Henna and jewellery;

How to braid my soil-coloured hair
and spin myself into the colours
and silk of a sari.

How to search for my soul
with eyes closed in some mountaintop
ashram.

I'd like to sit cross legged on the floor
at evenings

and listen to you tell the history
of every spice you place into
my mouth

as Buddha's statue glances down at us
and I rediscover all my senses.

16.5

We're flying -
90 Mhz and you feel
Like warmth, like steady
Like love.

Tonight we're two shooting stars,
Leaving tails of light behind.

And my hair is a dragon's wing,
Slicing through the night

16.6 Sacrificed

You say I'm beautiful like
it's an accusation

and I've been caught redhanded
so many times.

You say I'm beautiful and I see
images of witches burning at stakes
in your eyes, I see the death of every 
miracle

I see me lying
in a pool of blood eyes
open, I see

you.

16.7 Special occasion: Writer unblocked

Tonight words return to me
Like they always do
after silence, apologising
and begging for another
chance

Tonight I return to words,
like i always do, vulnerable
with my heart in my hands.

16.8

We loved once, twice, ten
times; until our hearts no longer
looked like

our hearts.

Tonight, we are hotel rooms
with double beds and broken
chair arms.

Tell me,
how does one change
a bed and breakfast

into a home.

17.1

There is something sad about kohl'ed eyes,
talons and leaving you at 11 pm;

your voice on the phone, your silence,
that last one second before
hanging up.

There is something quite lonely
about brightly-manicured fingernails,
long legs and writing to you
half-finished poems at 2 am;

window-seats, packed suitcases
and the turn of the key into

an empty house.

There is something quite desperate
about blood-red lipstick, short skirts
and the grasp of your hand around mine
as we shake goodbye; your whispered
Love you's and there's something
about winter, too,

knee-high boots, cold hands
and staying indoors,
with a warm cup of chocolate,

thinking of you.

PROMPT CHANGE. PLEASE USE YOUR NEW PROMPTS AS OF NOW.

DAY TWO

1.1 animal, number

Creaking wooden floor -
In a corner, two mice
Are brewing babies
Behind the cookie jar.

1.2 wild card

A cacaphony resides inside of my belly,
I put my stuffed animal's ear against it,
Waiting for the morse code to appear.

1.3 life

We're prancing around
with brand-new shoes,
Complaining about blisters.

Two footsteps ago,
A man without limbs
Preys in front of an empty bowl.

1.4 club name

It's a sunny day and I'm lying
Belly-up, throwing m&m's
In the air, like acrobats they land
Gracefully inside of my mouth
And the cage of teeth closes.

1.5 form - ode to flipflops

Oh, beautiful, penguin-like flip flops
Clapping in the sun, you grace my picture
With casualness, as I walk the beach
Whilst holding your hands, needing nothing
But the safety you bestow my feet.

1.6 alcohol/drugs

On Monday, I fall asleep to cognac.

Tuesday, or is it Thursday?
I tend to mix 'em up -
Like the bottle of gin and absinthe.

Any other day - oh
What was it again ...

1.7 10-13 lines

Bonsai tree exported
To your living room,
And aquarium settled
Right where the eastern wind blows.

Trying to be zen
according to the magazines.

In the meantime, your nose cowers
From vagabonds, change clinking
In your low-waist jeans,
Your sunglasses sitting high on your nose.

1.8 metaphor/simile

We sit like still lives in the garden -
My head the fruit to your neck,
Ever-fitting, with the cliche sunset
Waiting for us to drench in watercolour.

2.1 animal/number

When I try and sleep
I hear fifty hyenas laughing
mocking my dreams
having travelled so far down a path
that has no end
I question whether
to begin again
is a better travelled road.

2.2 wild card

bees busy buzzing
nectar filled knees are throbbing
swat and stamp it dead

2.3 life

Would you take a chance
to meet your childhood self
point out some of his life
in tales that seem so tall
would he believe you
could be so stupid sometimes
or would a child's perspective
cast a better light
is this life half over
or are you nearing the end
what would that little boy say
before running away.

2.4 mention club name

Writers block is an excuse
to set my mind at rest
for when I write these pages
I know they are not the best

Dropping the rhyme seems easy
when poetry causes disdain
I would love to go forward
to a time when I write again

for now I squeeze out more poetry
telling myself just one more
then I rip up this paper
scattering fragments of poetry on the floor.

2.5 form

Forming words in my mind
Only to find they clash
Reading my scribbles
Makes me want to cry

Sometimes I want to delete this
Useless rambling mess
Can't find the strength to
Kill this poetic beast
So I amble on somehow

2.6 Alcohol or drugs

Without you Jesse
I could never be the man
to cook this poisonous ice
in this camper van

We have nearly died so many times
because of our greed
but we need to push on
determined to succeed

Our blue meth is the best
our prices are insane
we have sold two hundred pounds worth
lets go cook again

2.7 10-13 lines

There is too much strife
to over complicate life
why are we here
these thoughts feed fear
after we have gone
the evermore is too long
to waste this moment now
furrowing my brow
thinking of the past
when the die has already been cast

2.8 metaphor

Dreaming of a rose so black
dripping in blood
that runs down my throat
the hand that holds it so young
pointing to my past
why a rose at all
is it beauty lost
a fragile reminder
of time stood still

3.1 1 Animal & 1 Number

There we were
like two hippos lying on the couch,
having stuffed ourselves
full of ice cream
waiting for the day
your baby girl would arrive -
we feel her kick
and squirm her way
down, waiting in heavy
anticipation -
she will arrive soon.

3.2 Wild Card

There's beauty in
her eyes, twinkling toes
and cliche cheeks
with bite marks
held on the inside.

3.3 Life

A woman can walk
down the pavement
and feel the lingering
of judgment from
matronly eyes -
we must close our eyes
to others' imperfections
as they do our own.

3.4 Club Name

It's in the midst
of the fragments of poetry
that we find ourselves
sheltered from the realities
of this world - we lose ourselves
in the broken pieces
we long to make whole
just waiting for the
perfect lines to come together.

3.5 Formed Poem (Nonet)

Volcanic eruptions violently force
villagers to run, leaving back
all their precious belongings,
praying God will salvage
every last picture
with memories -
they cannot
create
more.

3.6 Alcohol or Drugs

She wishes she could
dive a bit deeper into
her heart, focusing her thoughts
on every wrong thing -
she swishes her vodka
around in her mouth,
feeling the burn -
one day she'll forget.

3.7 10-13 Lines

He watches her,
eyes intent on this
beautiful creature
drawing back at
just the right moment -
silently, holding breath
from her ears
and without her
even knowing
he gracefully misses
his opportunity.

3.8 Metaphor or Simile

He held me down
like an anchor in
life, rooting me
to my moral standard -
I live for Him
I love for Him
I die for Him.

4.1 Must mention ONE animal AND ONE NUMBER.

In the refrigerator, there's one piece
of chicken, a bottle of beer,
and more beer.

Like any other night.

Sometimes I open the door
wide enough for a fissure of light
to shine through the usually-dark kitchen.

I stare at your photograph, then.

Thinking of how you scolded me
about going to the supermarket
and looking for a real job.

4.2 Wild Card

I loosen my ponytail
and feel like I'm watched
by the webcam of my laptop.

I swear it's shooting
a ridiculous hair commercial -
lion manes shaking left, and right

in s l o w m o t i o n
tempting me to cover its eye
before I dig into my nose.

4.3 category : Life

She's standing with her back
against a national monument,
muffling her ritual of unwrapping
her candy, graffiti sprayed
over her baggy pants, as she
inhales the sweetness,
dreaming of the time
she'd finish her education.