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Poetry Prompts

December Visual Poetry Prompt

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Dashing through the snow…

Post your poem in the comment below.

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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.

Discussion

20 thoughts on “December Visual Poetry Prompt”

  1. Dennis's avatar

    A Bit of Nonsense

    You look dashing, the lovely brunette said,
    Thru the snow or no …
    Gallant, I’d say, added another,
    more beautiful than the one before …
    Your clothes, you hair, a third chimed in,
    I’d like to take you home …
    At last, I cried, I now am dashing
    finally with someplace to go.

    Liked by 4 people

    Posted by Dennis | December 4, 2023, 7:56 AM
    Reply to this comment
  2. Fay Ann Swearing's avatar

    Oh dashing through the snow, we go,
    In a sleigh with runners aglow.
    With snowflakes so white,
    We zip left and right,
    Laughing as fast as we can throw!

    Liked by 3 people

    Posted by Fay Ann Swearing | December 4, 2023, 8:07 AM
    Reply to this comment
  3. Art Hernandez's avatar

    Dashing through the snow
    my boys so so cold
    I am freezing
    Not teasing
    I am full on frozen
    I was chosen
    for this dash
    but why i ask?

    Liked by 3 people

    Posted by Art Hernandez | December 4, 2023, 8:24 AM
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  4. EINSTEIN CHUKWU's avatar

    In realms unseen, where words take flight,
    A tale of darkness veiled in night,
    May thunder from third heaven’s height,
    Descend upon a scene of spite.

    A soul consumed by greed’s embrace,
    Who sought to shift his debts and space,
    With promises deceitful, laced,
    May he face fate’s resounding chase.

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    May thunderbolts with fury strike,
    From heavens vast, their power like,
    To pierce his heart and soul alike,
    And render justice, swift and right.

    Oh, let him meet an evil’s end,
    A fate befitting, we contend,
    May wickedness its grasp extend,
    To claim the soul that will not mend.

    In forests draped with shadows deep,
    Where secrets whisper, secrets keep,
    May his remains lie in silence sleep,
    A reminder of the vows he’d reap.

    But let us pause, reflect, and see,
    The path we tread, the choices free,
    To harbour hate or let it flee,
    And seek a world where grace may be.

    For vengeance, though it tempts the mind,
    Can breed a darkness undefined,
    May we instead compassion find,
    And foster love, with hearts aligned.
    http://www.cardinalpointnewspaper.wordpress.com

    Liked by 3 people

    Posted by EINSTEIN CHUKWU | December 4, 2023, 1:34 PM
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  5. DanielleM's avatar

    They put this red coat on me… humans
    They put these tiny booties on too…humans
    They’re running in the snow, I’m still so cold…humans
    They say I’m having fun…humans
    They keep snapping pictures…humans
    My humans are out of their minds
    smiling and grinning
    talking about Santa, someone who is going to creep down the chimney, but not on my watch.
    They say I look like a reindeer, imagine tiny me, a reindeer.

    My humans are mad!

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by DanielleM | December 4, 2023, 7:43 PM
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  6. nolchafox's avatar

    Butt-Ugly Booties

    I try to try these booties on, they criss and cross too many ways.
    I cannot tell which side is up, they’re on a different side from me.
    The colors are a horror, more Halloween or Hitchcock.
    I’d rather freeze my tootsies off than wear these ugly things.
    They’re what my mother lent to me to celebrate this day.
    I hope no one will see them underneath my wedding dress.

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by nolchafox | December 4, 2023, 8:48 PM
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  7. Hannah Ringler's avatar

    One December the snow blew to the ground
    in drifts of asters, mounding deep
    over the rain-crumbled locust, poplar, sycamore
    leaves, dipping into the hollow of the trench
    that kept the gravel road from washing down the mountain
    as smooth and suave as a lick of wave curling without end
    around the mossy, mounding quartz and feldspar stones
    of the river. That was the year I got the runner sled,
    the year the snow didn’t melt but built a crisp
    and sugared crust. Sumac-red blades sliced it;
    we leaned into the curve, leapt the ditch,
    made the turn to the last hill without soaring over
    the hill and into the embrace of pine and briar,
    glided all the way to rest, as the snow itself,
    beside the river.

    Liked by 1 person

    Posted by Hannah Ringler | December 4, 2023, 11:00 PM
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  1. Pingback: Wobbles the Wiener Dog | Bartholomew Barker, Poet - December 5, 2023

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