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Poetry Prompts

Monday Poetry Prompt: Lost

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This week let’s write a lost poem. We lose things all the time, keys, games, patience, patients. Post your findings in the comments below.

 

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About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.

Discussion

9 thoughts on “Monday Poetry Prompt: Lost”

  1. Reply to this comment
  2. JeanMarie's avatar

    I was going to clean the house
    but I lost my oomphty-oomph

    I was going to call you
    but I checked Facebook and lost the time

    I set that item down just now
    then I turned around it was gone

    I was going to write a poem
    but I lost the words

    Of all the things I’ve lost
    my mind is what I miss the most

    Liked by 1 person

    Posted by JeanMarie | March 12, 2019, 1:31 AM
    Reply to this comment
  3. Lisa Tomey-Zonneveld's avatar

    If you find the hidden key
    never lost by you, but found
    nonetheless
    what is it that you do with said key?
    Would you try to use it
    when you don’t know the door
    or simply or not simply ask
    the keeper of the key
    if you are sure
    Is this yours?
    Be sure that when you ask
    you are able
    to handle the answer
    or evasiveness
    for I can tell you this
    it’s for a great amount of certain
    it’s his
    Now, how’s that for turning
    stomachs
    hearts
    livers
    wringing tears from the eyes
    of trust

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by Lisa Tomey | March 12, 2019, 7:50 AM
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  4. Jess's avatar

    I like the desperation in disclosing what you lost.

    Liked by 1 person

    Posted by Jess | March 13, 2019, 11:30 PM
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  5. Jess Chappell's avatar

    Dark Room 2

    She loved her photographs,
    capturing other people’s moments
    while they lived life
    and she resolutely displaced
    her identity.
    It was far easier
    to slink and sink
    beneath the swell of the waves
    of the others who were
    more lucid.
    It was far more evocative
    to vanish
    behind her lens,
    seeking her next victim,
    misplacing the viscera of herself.
    With each click, her passion
    turned her into a cannibal.
    She craved other people’s
    memories, dreams, triumphs, failures-
    her own false collection!
    My own, she thought hollowly.
    She looked around her
    and not even her authorship mattered.
    Pictures, faded and aged from
    time’s imprint,
    mocked her secretly with
    garish shades and shadows,
    for she had capped her own
    camera long ago.
    Why, she asked, would I want those
    irritating flashes in my eyes?
    As the dark room served
    as her new shelter,
    she lost the reason
    to develop herself.

    Liked by 1 person

    Posted by Jess Chappell | March 13, 2019, 11:36 PM
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