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Poetry Prompts

Monday Poetry Prompt: Ocean

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This week let’s write an ocean poem. It’s a big thing, the ocean, inspiring poets for as long as there’s been poetry. Add your drops in the comments below.

About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker is one of the organizers of Living Poetry, a collection of poets and poetry lovers in the Triangle region of North Carolina. 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 makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.

Discussion

24 thoughts on “Monday Poetry Prompt: Ocean”

  1. The Ocean
    Created of small drops of water
    a salted sea that fills the world
    its ebb and flow
    like thoughts of the mind
    rise and crash of waves
    like changes of heart
    constant movement
    inspirer of dreams
    whether seaside
    or sailing across its surface.

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by purplestoneblog | February 22, 2021, 8:06 AM
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  2. Davy Jones Locker!
    I’m only here for the fish.
    Pass the lemon wedge.

    Liked by 3 people

    Posted by JeanMarie | February 22, 2021, 3:34 PM
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  3. New Normal

    Cars crawling on the highway again
    signifying the returnimg of the normal life.
    But it isn’t normal
    that life is filled with rushing,
    crowding and fighting for space again.
    We learned the lesson from calamities.
    But we ditch them like disposal plastics
    and let them drown in the open oceans with indigestion.

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by Cassa Bassa | February 22, 2021, 4:59 PM
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  5. I tossed a bottle in the ocean
    Note enclosed with wishes
    It came back to me
    Washed right back to the shore
    Inspired
    I opened the note
    It changed
    Make your dreams come true

    Liked by 1 person

    Posted by Lisa Tomey | February 22, 2021, 8:11 PM
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  7. Swanquarter Ferry

    The crowds weren’t as large as I expected
    Waiting in the sticky summertime air
    rich with salt and the smell of low tide
    evidence of the dying and living of uncountable numbers of microscopic things

    While I was young, I went to the mountains
    With their great heights and sweeping views
    A place of great power that my youthful mind could see and acknowledge
    Where the flow of life was a spectacle in the circus of the seasons
    Spring into Summer and Summer to Fall
    Fall’s assured slide into Winter and, in due time, back again to Spring

    But now I am old and while the mountains still rage on
    I will go to sit at the foot of my true teacher
    and listen to a drone I heard less clearly in my youth
    where each wave is a day
    and each tide is a season
    and each daybreak an the same as the one before
    as the wavelength of my life asymptotes
    to a Schumann resonance of all things

    Liked by 1 person

    Posted by Chris Clarke | February 22, 2021, 11:39 PM
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