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Poetry Prompts

Monday Poetry Prompt: Upheaval

My apologies for the late prompt. This week let’s write an upheaval poem. How do you feel when the unexpected and unwelcome storm into your life? (Like when you weekly poetry prompt appear twelve hours later than usual.)

Post your poem in the comments 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

14 thoughts on “Monday Poetry Prompt: Upheaval

  1. JeanMarie's avatar

    I’m shook.
    For 12 hours
    Poetry was off the hook
    I survived

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by JeanMarie | January 14, 2025, 6:44 AM
  2. llzranch's avatar

    Furnace Sings

    Pushcart winners and Pulitzer nominees

    populate my online writing community

    masquerading as ordinary writers,

    intimidating late-in-life novices like me

    living out here in the boondocks,

    goldilocks looking for her perfect fix.

    Collectively they publish in New Yorker,

    Rattle, and every other major journal,

    poems complex, thoughtful, funny.

    My brain tries to jump out its lock,

    the oft stated, think outside the box,

    but I am not as agile as I was years ago,

    fear I’ll trip on box’s side and break a leg,

    land me in expensive rehabilitation.

    Left side and right get confused

    as to which is scientific, which creative.

    This morning dawns clear, five below,

    furnace sings along with my typing,

    encouraging me to stay inside, snug

    in my heated, cushion-filled house,

    like my dog Pickles curled up in her bed.

    I need a wakeup call, an upheaval

    to my safe existence. Time to go

    online, plan a trip with gusto.

    Liked by 1 person

    Posted by llzranch | January 14, 2025, 12:06 PM
  3. crazy4yarn2's avatar

    Liked by 1 person

    Posted by crazy4yarn2 | January 14, 2025, 2:04 PM
  4. JeanMarie's avatar

    a dog named Pickles! …

    sorry I got distracted

    nice poem!

    Liked by 1 person

    Posted by JeanMarie | January 14, 2025, 10:11 PM

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. Pingback: High Winds – Addicted to Words - January 14, 2025

  2. Pingback: Fraiku: Long Days Longer Nights | Bartholomew Barker, Poet - January 17, 2025

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