This week let’s write a poem with the words attack, exist and roll 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. I couldn’t come up with a good image for those three words so here’s a picture of a dog dressed as a bumble bee. Post your poems in the comments below.
Living Poetry 
Ukraine has been heavy on my heart. I actually shared a few political thoughts. https://2ndactblogger.wordpress.com/2022/03/18/for-ukraine/
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Second Act Blogger | March 18, 2022, 10:52 AMGood use of the prompt and current events. Excellent final line!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | March 18, 2022, 4:25 PMThank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Second Act Blogger | March 18, 2022, 4:45 PMLikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | March 16, 2022, 5:52 PMVery cool history and ideas..hacking seems the newest way to play God, and why not? The bold go where others cannot. Is it really true that a human-made AI can set us all straight, as in the collective can tweak the nodes? Interesting avenue to follow. Enjoyable.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by ts19page | March 16, 2022, 7:02 PMWhere IS Waldo
Ralph Waldo Emerson said:
“To be yourself in a world
that is constantly trying to make you something else
is the greatest accomplishment.”
Wherever
Waldo is, he may be content
as battle laurels blossom upon his head.
There is overt maneuvering
and subvert out-maneuvering
none of us see this coming,
None of us think we have it coming.
We exist not as a man on an island,
lonely as that sounds, and quiet.
Quiet has its downside,
in the way autonomy must navigate,
Crafted sleek boats climb the wave and roll
themselves upright again.
More than one man ties himself to the mast,
salt wind stinging his eyes.
The world out there reflects
the eye that sees it,
we mirror it,
It shows us ourselves.
In the middle of attack when the world recedes;
we lose ourselves, afterwards in calm,
washed up on sand, seeing fruit pendant on the trees
hearing the fall of fresh water,
We are what is left; the vast eye in the storm
moving with the vortex is still.
To exist is to be both less and more
than we can manage.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by ts19page | March 14, 2022, 6:47 PMLove that next to last stanza, the description of washing ashore to a lovely lonely island. Nice meditation on the Self. Well done.
LikeLike
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | March 14, 2022, 7:20 PMThank you, Bartholomew.
LikeLike
Posted by ts19page | March 14, 2022, 7:23 PMThis has such movement! Love it.
LikeLike
Posted by Lisa Tomey | March 14, 2022, 7:26 PMOh Lisa, how vivid! It also gave me a smile reading about this puppy and the bee. 💚💕
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Cassa Bassa | March 14, 2022, 5:50 PMThank you!
LikeLike
Posted by Lisa Tomey | March 14, 2022, 7:24 PMDressed in his predator’s costume
Fluffy bounced through the flower bed
Ready to go into full attack
on those buzzing, bumbling bees
I exist as they do with my fuzzy sweater
my stinger is my bite
Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz
Rolling away from the pesky bees
Fluffy gained all fours and ran away
LikeLiked by 3 people
Posted by Lisa Tomey | March 14, 2022, 7:20 AMHa! You made it a visual prompt too. Well done!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | March 14, 2022, 7:12 PM