Poem-a-Day April 2019 Writer’s Digest Challenge #7. Theme: Jealousy #aprpad

Jenvy

When Jealousy met Envy,
she met her match.
This two-headed, green-eyed monster
grew more luminous
when they learned that it was “Jenvy”
that brought about the first murder
on Earth,
which made them one of the 7 deadly sins.

But when they met Admiration,
that entity was the sword that slayed the dragon,
for a brother who was inspired
by another brother’s success
would become greater himself
than a brother who simply seethed
with Jenvy.

https://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2019-april-pad-challenge-day-

Poem-a-Day Writer’s Digest Challenge #1. Theme: Stay, Go

For today’s prompt, we’ve actually got a two-for-Tuesday prompt. So pick one, combine both prompts into one poem, or write two (or more) different poems. Here are the prompts:

  • Write a stay poem. A poem about staying put, not leaving, and/or dealing with someone (or something) that refuses to leave. Or…
  • Write a go poem. Fans of The Clash probably know which song prompted today’s prompt. But yeah, this is basically the opposite of staying–you know, going.

No Invitation

Where he was going,
she had never been;
from whence he had come,
she had never known.

Barefoot in blue jeans,
pertly pretty and fifteen,
the mirror, her mistress,
tells her in words sounding like hers
that she is the queen—
this somnambulist in the sameness of her life.

He appears as if in a golden chariot,
a childlike man on the spectrum with him;
he is ambiguous and all put-together—
everything and nothing,
from neither here nor there,
but from some other place
where music also plays.

The mesmerism of his voice—singsong and sad—
is discordant, yet she cannot close the screen door
that separates them as a bridal veil from the groom.

That day through the screen door,
on a Sunday barbecue afternoon,
the girl who knew no religion,
could not know the Devil when she saw him.
Twas when Pride met Vanity,
and lost;
when Virginity met Debauchery,
only to lose herself.

She snaps out of her hypnotic state,
as her entire life crystallizes—
the father who spoke not at all,
the mother who spoke too much,
the sister of whom much was spoken of.
“For inasmuch as ye have done it unto
one of the least of these my brethren,
ye have done it unto me,” Jesus said.
For the others, she has stayed;
for them, she will go.
The spell is broken, and it is all so
extremely frightening and incredibly real,
for this Arnold Friend is more real to her
than anything else had ever been.

Based on the short story, “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” by Joyce Carol Oates.

Also, an interesting analysis:  http://sittingbee.com/where-are-you-going-where-have-you-been-joyce-carol-oates/

2016 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 1

Poem-a-Day 2016 Writer’s Digest Challenge #17. Theme: Haiku (or a poem about a haiku)

Virtuous Sins:  In Haiku

Lust

Spark that ignites an
unquenchable thirst for wife—
gift given by God.

Greed

Better provider
for family, willing not
to settle for less.

Sloth

Working smarter, not
harder, saving energy
for more pressing things.

Gluttony

Waste not, vanity
free, more to love, no
anorexia.

Pride

In herself, her home,
and family—all for the
good of those she loves.

Envy

Catalyst for self-
improvement, comparison
to others a map.

Wrath

Righteous for a cause—
raging against injustice,
and other evils.

http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2016-april-pad-challenge-day-17

 

Poem-a-Day Writer’s Digest Challenge #30. Theme: Bury the (blank)

Hooray!  Today was the last day of the poetry challenge, and I managed to (during finals month, at that) complete a poem every day on the day the assignment was given.  My last poem for this challenge was basically “Clue” meets “The Seven Deadly Sins”.  It’s a bit silly, but I had fun with it.

clue

Bury the Bodies

In the Lounge, Miss Scarlett clutches her Revolver,
the odor of gunshot residue following her to the Study,
only to find Professor Plum, her lusty lover,
sporting a necktie a lovely shade of hemp Rope,
his wrathful face wretched and ruddy.

Miss Peacock, her green-eyed mother,
who tried to kill her while she was eight months along,
is lying in the Library, next to a Wrench,
pieces of her brain matter decaying,
creating a monstrous stench.

Reverend Green, her uncle,
is crumpled in the corner of the Conservatory,
next to him, a Lead Pipe dripping with blood,
his pockmarked bald pate his distinguishing trait,
now surely dancing with the greedy in purgatory.

Mrs. White, her housemaid,
and her maid of dishonor,
who was lazy and fat with gluttonous sin,
is slumped over the console in the Hall,
Candlestick bent, with her head caved in.

Colonel Mustard, her second cousin,
whose pride was in big game hunting,
has a Knife broken in his chest cavity,
and is bleeding out in the Ballroom—
the epitome of depravity.

When she gazes into the mirror,
she sees all her different personalities–
the family members she murdered years ago at a party
fueled by their unfettered criminality.

She, having finally slaughtered them
with the weapon of her choice—
having heeded the voice,
runs to the Billiard Room to take her cue,
only to see that under the influence of a hot toddy,
she, with a bullet to his spine,
murdered poor Mr. Boddy.