This week let’s write a poem with the words governor, sunflower and warm in it. This is another of those prompts where I randomly choose three words from a list of the top 1000 words in the English language plus a few of my favorites. Post your poems 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 
Raleigh
North Carolina
Governed by Cooper
Has beautiful sunflowers
At Dorothea Dix
it’s warm
In fact it’s hot
nonetheless
You are invited
Poetry welcomed
when you’re done
share your experience
of golds, oranges, reds
and greens
and bees
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Lisa Tomey | July 19, 2021, 8:10 AMNice endorsement for our state! Bzzzzz🐝💟
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by JeanMarie | July 19, 2021, 2:03 PMA lovely portrait of our capital city. Thanks!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | July 19, 2021, 4:52 PMIf love governed our courts
and beauty built our cities
then we would be as warm
as van Gogh’s sunflowers.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by JeanMarie | July 19, 2021, 4:25 PMIf only… Great little poem!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | July 19, 2021, 4:54 PMNow I’m confused. Isn’t 17 syllables the whole point of haiku. Really can’t manage more than that
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Catherine Penafiel | July 20, 2021, 7:22 PMThere’s plenty who would argue that the 5-7-5 syllable structure is the whole point of the haiku. I disagree. Search the internet for Kerouac American Haiku and I’ll let Jack offer the dissent.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | July 20, 2021, 7:26 PMI like it, JeanMarie
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Catherine Penafiel | July 19, 2021, 8:52 PMThanks Cathy
LikeLike
Posted by JeanMarie | July 19, 2021, 10:28 PMthere were 10 syllables in the prompt today, so I only had 10 to work with:
Buy a sunflower
My babies are cold, gov’nor
Help me keep them warm
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Catherine Penafiel | July 19, 2021, 8:51 PMoops – you gave me 7 so i had 10. i can count. i’m an engineer with the soul of an accountant
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Catherine Penafiel | July 19, 2021, 8:54 PMDon’t worry about it. I don’t count syllables in haiku.
LikeLike
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | July 19, 2021, 9:02 PMI’m hearing a cockney accent in this one. Well done!
LikeLike
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | July 19, 2021, 9:00 PMWell if it ain’t Eliza Doolittle, bless me soul!
LikeLike
Posted by JeanMarie | July 19, 2021, 10:27 PMLikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | July 19, 2021, 9:02 PMMy love
in layers of wool
wrapped and warm
I knocked the governor
to a radiator derelict
paint-smothered and cold
in a room
where sunflowers
bowed toward her beauty
she smiled to me
as the windows
leaky and iced
slowly start to melt
in a trifold radiance
of the moment
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Chris Clarke | July 20, 2021, 11:54 AMLove the “sunflowers / bowed toward her beauty” bit. Great work!
LikeLike
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | July 20, 2021, 5:53 PMMonday-poetry-prompt-governor-sunflower-warm
The Sunflower King
Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris
I say, said he, the mightiest Sunflower in the land,
‘Tis I that will lead this day and every day
hence with warm sunshine,
declaring his worth, his intent and his plan.
From far afield the Governor’s voice was heard,
relegated past the weeds and ferns, was he.
‘Tis not for you to say this day
Whom will lead and lead not.
That great yellow blossom ballooned as it was,
by false praise and greedy petitioners.
Listened not to the words wisely offered to him,
Nor did he hear the cries of his devotees.
Turning his face to the glorious rays
of the only orb greater than he,
failing to see the long shadow beneath
the bulbous machinations of his leaves.
He guzzled the sun where no other could,
gain succor, drink or knowledge.
The ones he led, died slowly instead,
leaving him ruling his kingdom of one.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by amio1958 | August 22, 2021, 12:17 PMVery nice. I love how the archaic syntax to gives it that fairy tale feel. Also the “bulbous machinations of his leaves”. Fun!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | August 22, 2021, 1:03 PMThank you Bartholomew!
There’s a bit of a secondary, hidden message in this one. (Hint: “That great yellow blossom ballooned as it was, by false praise and greedy petitioners.”) Perhaps I should’ve substituted orange for yellow. 🤭
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by amio1958 | August 23, 2021, 3:00 PM