Excerpts from some poetry prompts. The first one is based on a story my papa told about his brief time in Japanese-controlled Cambodia at the end of the war.
First prompt: something dangerous passed down
We mustn't speak of this sharp-edged symbol of war,
but in whispers.
There was a tale he saw a man's head cut off,
was it this sword?
Second prompt: a time when you were dangerous
I've never been dangerous in my life,
probably because I've never been in danger;
been surrounded by softness,
Another useful early morning session with Marjorie Lotfi's Substack writing group.
First prompt: describe yourself using things that you love (Ways to Love Myself)
the sound of a flock of birds taking off from the sand;
a flick of pages from a book
Second prompt: losing yourself
And I lost myself, somewhere in the ebb and flow of the world.
So I joined a writing group on Substack, run by the lovely Marjorie Lotfi. I'd attended a writing retreat she offered, last autumn. It's a half hour zoom call, with poetry readings and quick prompts for inspiration. I found the similar (longer) workshops that we'd done on the retreat helpful so I thought I'd make the effort to keep my poetry writing going.
I think of these like sketches. It's helpful to have a body of work that I can dip into and play with, rather than starting from scratch.
First prompt: a place that mattered (to you)
Spitting apple pips into the void.
Something takes root.
Second prompt: talking because someone is listening
Thoughts spilling out of me
all tumbled together
like when we broke the dam
that we had built at the beach
