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Poetry Prompts

July Visual Poetry Prompt

Don’t forget to post your poem in the comments below before the inspiration floats away.

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. 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

21 thoughts on “July Visual Poetry Prompt

  1. There was nothing to celebrate
    this July 4th
    No balloons or fireworks
    Only cognitive dissonance
    watching dancing people
    in front of the Capital on TV
    I could only remember
    fellow citizens
    storming the Capitol
    in seething anger

    PS – can someone check the blog setting? I am no longer receiving email at capenafiel12@gmail.com.

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by Second Act Blogger | July 8, 2022, 5:50 PM
  2. we dont see them
    much anymore
    balloons fall into
    the category of teapot cosies
    patchwork quilts and cucumber sandwiches
    it’s nice being a dinosaur

    Liked by 1 person

    Posted by Cressida | July 8, 2022, 2:19 PM
  3. A Funeral for Sperms

    Onlookers and passerby gave them the cheers
    Some even said congratulations
    Little did they know
    there goes his vitality into the thin air
    Her belly is still flat
    and her womb is still empty

    Liked by 3 people

    Posted by Cassa Bassa | July 5, 2022, 3:33 AM
  4. each state
    a different color
    floating in a deep blue sky
    over a loved heartland
    manifestly repurposed
    bound with bands of history and intent
    slowly falling with each selfish act
    an experiment in hubris
    still aloft by bouyancy
    not by shed grace
    but by the cross product
    of idealism and averace

    Liked by 5 people

    Posted by Chris Clarke | July 4, 2022, 3:30 PM
  5. Won For Us

    What they won for us
    was this warm day
    the placid water
    where small children play

    The calm skies arc
    protective and blue
    the rose bends red

    We amble by full and free
    white clouds rise
    above the old oak tree
    which outlasted,
    as did our own home,
    the ax of wars,
    our evening proclaims,
    with stars.

    Liked by 3 people

    Posted by ts19page | July 4, 2022, 9:45 AM

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