This week let’s write a pompous poem. Some might say the very act of writing poetry is more than a little pompous but it’s safe to assume they aren’t reading this prompt. The poem could be about a pompous person or event or the poem might just be full of itself. Post your pretentions in the comments below.
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.
Living Poetry 
Some say Mary lied
When she said her Christmas tree died
Truth is I will tell
She bleached the thing to pure hell
Seeing in the Christmas ads
Trees in flocking white
She had to have one like that
And the efforts were a fright
Trying to keep up with Jones
Impressions for others cost
You’d think by now she’d
Learn about these things for sure
So many things tried
Cost more than she can afford
Keeping up with the Joneses
Never made much sense
Mary proved it much too much
When she flocked up the
Christmas tree, oh poor Mary
What’s she gonna do?
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | December 9, 2019, 11:29 AMI don’t know if this fits, but it was fun to write!
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | December 9, 2019, 11:30 AMThat’s all that matters. Write to enjoy it.
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Posted by JeanMarie | December 9, 2019, 4:03 PMAgreed. The prompt can be ignored once inspiration is achieved. Well done!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | December 9, 2019, 7:19 PMI updated it: https://prolificpulse.blog/2019/12/14/marys-flocked-christmas-tree-mess-up/
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | December 14, 2019, 3:46 PMThere was a pompous poet
Clueless, they didn’t know it
Prosaic and Wordy
Verbose and Nerdy
Their poems had little merit.
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Posted by JeanMarie | December 9, 2019, 4:02 PMHa! I notice you didn’t use gendered pronouns there. Lovely limerick!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | December 9, 2019, 7:20 PMGood catch. Well, I didn’t want to indict myself or point fingers. 🙂
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Posted by JeanMarie | December 9, 2019, 8:38 PMAwesome!
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | December 9, 2019, 9:52 PMA Pompous Poem
A Black Cat Darted Expeditiously
Fronted Gates of Hell
Inflicted Jagged Killing
Lonesome Mountains
No One Prepared the Queen to Return
Stuck in This Useless Void
Wicks Xanthic of a Young Zeal
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Posted by Cassa Bassa | December 11, 2019, 5:00 PMA pompous, alphabetical poem and about a cat, no less. Well done!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | December 11, 2019, 6:03 PMThank you!
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Posted by Cassa Bassa | December 11, 2019, 6:52 PMFronted Gates of Hell-now that’s a cat for you. Great one!
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | December 14, 2019, 3:32 PM