LPiA-24 Nov. 17
#1
Let's Pretend it's April - Nov. 17
Rules: Write a poem for LPiA on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a New Reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month, have written 30 poems for the month of November. (or one, or six, or fifteen) Prompts may be revisited at any time. All members are welcome.

Topic : Write a poem inspired by a fictional creature. (Zombie, Unicorn, Oompa Loompa etc.)
Form : Any
Line requirements: 8 or more

Feel free to reply with comments or kudos as you wish. 

Questions?
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#2
Now that I am worn and old
Never filled that gaping hole
Breaking people for their gold
Saving up to buy a soul 
Flesh that's warm who's heart is cold
To return each toll I stole
Wasted efforts as I'm told
I'm still a troll, a worn old troll
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
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#3
Siren's Wish

My voice entrances,
Lures the masses,
Both trickster and lover combined.

I’m often hated,
Scoffed at and berated,
Though adoration is my dying wish.

To be desired, wanted,
A whispered wish, not discarded.
So I entice you with my song.

In hopes love is true,
But when you come to,
The truth shows its vicious face.

You have made me a fool,
My pride lends no grace.
So I am left with only one choice.

I wipe my tears, 
As I see it through,
And I fill your lungs with darkened blue.

BTW, I'm loving this daily prompt activity. It's fun to work our poetry muscles while also keeping it unserious. Sometimes I feel like poetry can feel stuffy and pretentious, when it doesn't always have to.
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#4
The Mess Before Christmas-revisited

Up there on the rooftop,
a hellacious banging noise,
waking up the neighbors,
and all the girls and boys.

Grandpa grabbed his baseball bat
and grandma grabbed her gun,
the reindeer, they just froze in place
so Santa had to run.

He jumped down to the driveway
and out into the yard,
then grandma opened fire,
and Santa went down hard.

Grandpa said, "oh, grandma,
look at what you did!"
Grandma stood there shaking
and cried, "don't tell the kids."

Santa laid there moaning
crumpled on his pack,
and grandma said, "I never knew
that Santa Claus was black."

A neighbor who was filming
said, “just use your common sense,
Santa threw some snowballs at her,
it was clearly self-defense.”

Grandpa was a doctor,
he turned and then replied,
“just shut up now and help me
get this man inside.”

While he was stitching Santa
grandma gasped, surprised,
what she saw inside his pack
made her eyes grow wide.

"There’s a pistol here for Joey,
a shotgun there for Tom,
and Jenny’s got a rifle,
and a kit for making bombs."

About this time, Black Santa
was beginning to wake up,
said he finally got promoted
to deliver all the Christmas stuff.

He said that ole Saint Nicholas
had gotten nasty drunk,
and they had to lock him up
inside a storage trunk.
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#5
Of Myth and Legend


Those flying militarily
take legends more than airily
of Pegasus and unicorn
(some must exist, sure as you’re born)
and dragons winging over lands
with castles, caves, and golden sands.
But one myth beggars their belief:
to find the regular crew chief.
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
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#6
(11-18-2024, 03:20 AM)CRNDLSM Wrote:  Now that I am worn and old
Never filled that gaping hole
Breaking people for their gold
Saving up to buy a soul 
Flesh that's warm who's heart is cold
To return each toll I stole
Wasted efforts as I'm told
I'm still a troll, a worn old troll

I really love this one... poor troll. I love poems that show a different and unique perspective
Reply
#7
(11-18-2024, 04:15 AM)carahmellow Wrote:  Siren's Wish

My voice entrances,
Lures the masses,
Both trickster and lover combined.

I’m often hated,
Scoffed at and berated,
Though adoration is my dying wish.

To be desired, wanted,
A whispered wish, not discarded.
So I entice you with my song.

In hopes love is true,
But when you come to,
The truth shows its vicious face.

You have made me a fool,
My pride lends no grace.
So I am left with only one choice.

I wipe my tears, 
As I see it through,
And I fill your lungs with darkened blue.

BTW, I'm loving this daily prompt activity. It's fun to work our poetry muscles while also keeping it unserious. Sometimes I feel like poetry can feel stuffy and pretentious, when it doesn't always have to.
Glad you are enjoying it. We try to run prompts as much as we can without overdoing it. Thanks for jumping in.
Reply
#8
because this creature is
an allegory for something
ever-relevant and especially
potent, people often
mistake it for existing
then end up doing nothing
to resolve their real problems
and this is just the way
the creature likes it.
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