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Poetry Prompts

August Visual Poetry Prompt

Serve up your poem 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. 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.


25 thoughts on “August Visual Poetry Prompt

  1. This is an old poem I wrote last year which fits this prompt:

    Orange Peel

    Sexy lady
    Ordered from the menu
    Last night’s zest
    Stained my fingernail

    This morning
    The off smell irritated
    my spliting headache


    Posted by Cassa Bassa | August 9, 2022, 6:01 PM
  2. You lie on your side
    the light
    smooth and warm
    illuminates you
    subtle curves
    gentle touch
    shadows start
    where you end
    running unto me
    the scent of fresh cut oranges
    like those you bring to the soccer games
    a comfort
    southern comfort
    your southern comfort
    sweetness tempered
    we will soon savor

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by Chris Clarke | August 4, 2022, 11:06 PM
  3. Knock Knock
    Who’s there?
    Orange who?
    Orange you surprised that I didn’t write a poem?

    … runs a way …

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by JeanMarie | August 3, 2022, 2:07 AM
  4. Kissing Cousins

    Smaller, but still same color,
    easily pulled into tasty bite-sized
    chunks, unlike its bigger cousin. I love ’em –
    no knife needed, just pull peel off and chow down,
    no troublesome juice dripping from wrist to elbow!
    Give me the smaller, but never inferior cousin,
    even if its name isn’t also its color! Yes,
    give me a Mandarin thanks, and I’ll
    happily kiss Oranges goodbye!

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by carolyncordon | August 2, 2022, 5:10 AM
  5. Desert Island

    We played cast up on a desert island,
    with water and trees
    coconuts, oranges, mangoes,
    and wild goats, Crusoe had goats.

    We were beautiful queens,
    one dark, one pale
    who wove artistic huts of palm fronds,
    white sand a smooth floor.

    Lying in rags
    in our plaited hammocks
    in the shade
    until the cloth wore out,

    Until we realized
    what was essential;
    a single shipwrecked young
    handsome boy- to share.

    The game now complete,
    we reveled in being marooned,
    unseen and free, with the flush,
    the portent, of being known.

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by ts19page | August 1, 2022, 3:24 PM
  6. august
    our last month of winter
    roll on spring
    no swimming
    but plenty of tennis
    half time oranges
    being the best part part of the
    hit miss and giggle team

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by Cressida | August 1, 2022, 8:39 AM

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