FOP #3

PROMPTS

1. Must write a poem to yourself, or about yourself.

2. Must mention a member's username on this site (active, or inactive) yes, you can use your own.

3. War

4. Poem must mention money, or a type of sport

5. Wild card

6. must include at least one colour, AND one shape

7. Category : nature

8. Double Form ( either double of the same form, i.e 2 haikus, or, 2 different forms joined, i.e a Tanka followed by a haiku.)

17.1 transport + weather

Riding your bike around Amsterdam
can be quite unsafe - silly teenagers
on scooters swishing by on the left,
trams travelling by on the right,
and tourists crossing the street
two feet way from the crosswalk.

During winter, when snow falls,
more than a handful of people
slip and break their legs
whilst rushing to school,
then the teachers scold them,
and they break again next year.

17.2 3 x 3

You held her hand like a seashell,
with care, and with wonder,
as if taking her to the beach
would summon sirens.

Then, she was deadwood,
fueling the campfire in the sand
as if to keep the beasts away.

Whilst deep inside, it was you
who hungered for Atlantis,
and you, who wondered
about black magic.

17.3 royalty

One flick of the finger
and she was dragged beneath
the guillotine, for not stroking
his ego, like an animal's supposed to.

The villagers scream to burn
the witch, but never to burn
the king, despite the sorcery
of hate, he's come to teach them.

17.4 first time

And your lips felt like rose petals,
gently scarring me for the first time.

When you poured tea for me, my cheeks
blossomed like a bouquet, artificial.

Meeting you was a dream turned sour,
a chapter I cannot subdue.

17.5 wild card

In the crowd, baldness lit up
like a discoball, and I wanted to
run up to him, ask about his story,
but by the time I was in the middle
of the dancefloor, drunken boys
circled around me, thinking
they could woo, by the time
I could squeeze through the wall
like ectoplasm, I was infected
by ignorance and the smell of Jaeger.

17.6 formed poem

old owl blinks at you -
chaperone of sleepwalkers
before they stumble

17.7 clothing

My room has become a jungle
of t-shirts, one hanging like a sloth
over my chair, most hiding beneath my bed
like lions, targeting their preys,
and me, I'm just a silly girl
with a photo camera, shooting
pictures of humankind
in their natural environment.

17.8 love

I would love to give in, stop thinking
about being one of the many gems you fished
out of the ruins, stop thinking
I should be grateful, or how you'd
have to put up with my complaints
about you, leaving me in the dark,
eating too much meat, not exercising,
having too many girls leaning
on your shoulder, gaming too much,
caring too less, absorbing
too less sunlight, etc, etc.

a list of complaints, almost longer
than the 1000 things I hate about myself.

But I can't give in, and I can't
stop thinking

about you.

18.1 TRANSPORT AND WEATHER

On the rain-splattered journey to
the airport I realised that I had left
my passport in 2005.

18.2 3 VERSES 3 LINES

I cried a little when Auld Land Syne
Was chorused by black-and-white characters
I had been entranced by.

I cried a little in the science lab store room
With 6 year's validated on a slip of a4
Paper cradled in my hand.

I cried a little when I visited you
With flowers to place beside your headstone
and memories to revisit.

18.3 MUST MENTION ROYALTY IN SOME WAY (CROWN, HEIR, PRINCE, ETC)

Princess, you must have mistaken me
For someone who would fight dragons
Or scale fairy-tale turrets to kiss you better.
I cannot give you caricatured affection,
Only hold you close and keep you safe
From the winds outside our doors.

18.4 FIRST TIME

The first time sharing a cigarette
In the smoky beer garden with you was
The best and the last.

18.5 WILD CARD

In the waiting room of the hospital's
ER department, a man paces
Furiously, biting his non-existant nails,
While a woman sobs silently into a
Hanky designed like an American flag.
I count the pins on the noticeboard,
Count the products in the vending machine,
Anything to distract from what is happening
In the next rooms.

18.6 FORMED POEM

Mountain snow glistens,
Reflected by a pearl moon
And the stars above.

18.7 MUST MENTION CLOTHING

The red underwear in the wash-closet
Told a story that words didn't need
To utter.

18.8 CATEGORY: LOVE

The way the nape of your neck looks
When you rest your head on my lap and
Make elephants from clouds reminds me of
Tree carvings, valentine cards and all the things
I try to measure, and can't.

19.1 Transport and weather

The wing-mirrors were stiff and blotchy
Like a teenagers acne-ridden face, the wheel rims
Were cracked and ready to make their
Bid for freedom. It didn't start on really cold mornings
But my first car gave me more memories
Than any other.

19.2 3 verses

Nobody believes me when I say
How I was abducted by aliens with
Cone shaped, wart-freckled head things.

They clicked their language and their spaceship
Was a giant corn-flakes cereal box. They plugged
Me into plasma and I became a harpsichord.

They dropped me back on a desert island
That slowly turned softer and more familiar
Until I was sitting on my couch, at home.

19.3 Royalty

I don't feel I deserve to wear
The crown you've given me. It feels heavy
On. Cumbersome with the weight of your
Expectation, sleepless and awkward
On stormy nights.

19.4 First Time

The first time I ventured onto the road behind
The wheel of my car was frightening as
If it was the driving test itself. Dad sat
In the passenger seat and was sat-nav clear
In his instructions: 'second-gear, watch the bend.'
Soon it got dark and Dad was on lights duty as I couldn't
Work them properly and turned them off with the wrong
Flick of my wrist. It was long and short
At the same time and it is a journey
I will never forget.

19.5 Wild card

The temple stood, triangular and orientally
Spectacular. Flanked by bamboo-inspired forest,
it looked as I imagined it did to the orange-clad
monks who lived there in an age more
religious, more secular.

19.6 Formed

Rainwater trickles
Across land, finding itself
Building clouds again.

19.7 Clothing

The bandana you bought from a stall
In Lima and used to wipe your brow
With on Death Road looked meagre, folded
In your suitcase. It looked out of place here
At home but I understand how you wrapped it
Predominately on the handle of your wardrobe
As if it was too revolutionary to be imprisoned
With the other clothes in the wardrobe prison.

19.8 Love

Four letters can't be defined in many more,
Even when strung together as ornate and
Sacrificial words. That combination of letters
Exists on paper as negative photographs of
Moments that are more alive in the annals of
Living memory than in the superficial mash-up
Of alphabet soup.

20.1 Transport and weather

We rose above the airport, above the
getting-smaller city in our Boeing 737,
until the outside the window was the grey
marriage of cloud. For a few seconds
the plane shuddered and I held my chair
more firmly until the sword of sunshine
scythed through and we were cruising
where the weatherman didn't have to
worry about.

20.2 3 verses

I have walked your graveyards
with you, stepped over the bones
of every woman before me and

planted daffodils in their ribcages
as symbols of peace. When we first
met, their were vows between us and

loss between us. We had inscribed our
love into the brickwork
of Greece.

20.3 Must mention royalty in some way (crown, heir, king, prince etc)

The palace is filled with servants
and maids, polite as children, and
the rooms are decorated with fine art
resting in golden frames: Feasts
in the dining halls and banquets
in the ornate drawing rooms.
But at night, no amount of precious
objects or fancy guests can fill the emptiness
that lurks in the walls, that sleeps
in the partisan beds.

20.4 Include the words, "first time" or, base the poem on the idea of a first time at something.

I encouraged myself to make
a second first impression after
I caught you in the record shop
updating your Spice Girls collection.
Years later I still see you in ways
I never have before.

20.5 Wild Card

I woke up after dreaming my fingertips
were udders, linked up like webs
to dairy machines extracting
all semblances of my poetry.
And I wasn't able to....

20.6 Form

Winter's frozen stare
nestles with the frosty night
crystalising land.

20.7 Clothing

The boots cut into our already swollen
ankles as we trudged along the trenches
to the frontline. Johnny was getting sick
and Podge was muttering Hail Marys
under his breath. The rifle was heavy
in my hand and as we readied ourselves,
mud-soaked and gaunt for the rush
into no-mans land, I tried to remember
the smell of freshly cut hay from
the valleys of home.

20.8 Love

I often wondered about the maturity
of people who carved cartoonised representations
of a fist-sized, blood-filled, valve-infiltrated organ
on trees with their summer flings
thinking they would return in future
to a time they will soon forget.

21.1 Transportion and weather

You were the stranger sitting across
from me on the 9 pm train to Alexandria,
flipping an old coin while rain entered
through the gap in our window.

I was the stranger sitting across from
you, holding a book of old-city photography
to my chest as if it were a child with
cold hands.

21.2 Must include 3 verses

Your reflection in the mirror,
three feet behind me, all shadow,
light and angles shifting.

Your hand in my hair,
loosening my bun,
pins falling to the floor.

The silk of a shawl
slipping softly from
my shoulders.

21.3 Mention Royalty

You move your white, white
king to safety of square G1
but he's no match for
my dark-eyed queen,
mate.

21.4 First time

This is for the first time
you removed my eyeglasses,
Lifting cold fingers to your
sun-warmed skin,
asking me to feel,
instead.

21.5 wild card

This morning life was a child
with her hands dripping milk and
maple syrup.

21.6 Formed poem

Last night he dreamt
Of roses braided into her
Violin-coloured hair and
Eden half-sunken in her eyes.

21.7 Piece of clothing

The red dress you loved
is now burning in the fireplace -
for all the mistakes
we foolishly made.