A poem-a-day for National Poetry Month

Prompt #05: Strange Little Drawing

Today’s written prompt and image is from Jeremy Edwards.

This prompt is sort of like the infamous New Yorker caption contest. (Infamous because I never won.) Only instead of a caption, your challenge is to create a poem that’s inspired–however loosely–by the strange little drawing I’ve created. So let your imaginations run wild! I think he/she/they/it need(s) all the help you can provide in making some sense.


Reminders for Participants: You can post your poem below in the comments, offer a link back to your site where the poem is posted, or comment about the experience of writing the poem (without actually posting the poem). If you’re going to comment on other participant’s poems, please remember that this is not a critique space — comments should be kept thoughtful and supportive. Lastly, remember you don’t have to use the prompt to write your poem — they’re here for your inspiration but they’re certainly not a requirement.

Let the Wild Poeming Being!


42 responses

  1. Mary Beth Frezon

    Ok I seriously needed a laugh tonight so thank you. More tomorrow but:


    One spoon
    He reaches. 

    April 4, 2011 at 9:28 pm

    • chloe


      April 4, 2011 at 10:44 pm

    • Love it.

      April 5, 2011 at 2:16 am

    • Mary Beth Frezon

      I feel a little guilty writing so late lol. How about some free haiku?


      April 5, 2011 at 11:21 am

  2. I kept this one well under 20 minutes. And a typo completely changed where I was going. I’m trusting to serendipity. http://feedingthegeek.tumblr.com/post/4362207129/untitled-april-5-2011


    Lazy morning conversation
    Trails off
    Over cornflakes
    Eyes opened but unseeing
    Gauzy film as yet undissolved
    By caffeine and technicolor sunrise
    Ears unhearing
    Deafened by soggy crunch

    The governor of the mind is
    Still asleep
    Press “play”
    And let the prerecorded pablum dialog
    Save a lie of intimacy for another day

    April 5, 2011 at 1:21 am

  3. As opposed to yesterday’s marathon effort, this one took only 5 minutes (and, boy, does it show). Still, at least I’m keeping up:


    April 5, 2011 at 2:18 am

  4. Eeks, a sonnet!

    Great drawing, Jeremy – I couldn’t see all of it this morning when I started, so I was working on half an image. Which has informed the poem.


    Love the other ones here. Sharp and witty.

    April 5, 2011 at 2:39 am

  5. Bill Noble

    Not all night, but he started at about 5:30 this morning, about twenty feet from my open window.


    He sings all night long, a robin’s song
    over and over, and then a starling’s
    twisty whizz. Was that the neighbor’s cat
    or somebody’s squeaky screen door?

    Here I sit, not at all for the whole night,
    scribbling something that might be a poem
    if I persist in singing it over and over,
    pretending I’m edging in on the truth.

    April 5, 2011 at 5:58 am

  6. Pingback: National poetry day #5

  7. dorlamoorehouse

    Today’s poem is such a cop-out. But I’m having a terrible week (and it’s only Tuesday). http://dorlamoorehouse.com/2011/04/05/napowrimo-day-5-3/

    April 5, 2011 at 6:18 am

  8. dlmoore

    not much, but a feeble attempt to keep up.


    They met one last time
    over coffee and captain crunch.
    So intertwined she felt
    she’d lost herself and become him.

    Knowing they could do this no more
    they began a painful separation.
    Peeling sunburnt layers apart
    leaving jigsaw pieces of themselves
    on the other.
    Finally pink and apart, they realized they
    were each something new.

    He let her drink the milk.

    poem a day april 5, 2011

    April 5, 2011 at 8:43 am

  9. Bowls

    For so many years I dreamt it was the eyelash in my bowl
    That caused me to set-aside forever my beloved Sugar-Pops
    And matriculate to toast, bagels, waffles, pancakes

    I constructed this fantasy about the evil eyelash
    As an artful denial of the truth
    My enemy is milk

    The truth set me free of the plague of pain
    But imprisoned me in a cage made of soy
    This, soy that, soy every comfort food now plain

    Like my right eye

    April 5, 2011 at 8:44 am

  10. Pingback: Poem-a-Day #5 « Shanna Germain

  11. Damn, these are all so good! Someday I will learn how to write funny. But, yeah, today is not that day.

    Portrait of Picture with Cereal


    April 5, 2011 at 11:28 am

  12. Kam Leitner

    Noodles on the Planalopy

    Dual gendered
    Absent minded
    Sat squat on tubular thighs.
    lifesavers soup
    is on the Agenda

    April 5, 2011 at 11:41 am

  13. Not to the prompt, but it’s a poem I really enjoyed writing!


    April 5, 2011 at 1:31 pm

  14. Wow, I am loving these fantastic pieces! Thanks for playing (working).

    And thank you thank you SG for letting me come here and give National Poetry Month my prompt attention. : )

    April 5, 2011 at 3:15 pm

    • Totally my pleasure. And totally worth the work to be reading some gorgeous, funny, delightful poems every day!

      April 5, 2011 at 4:21 pm

  15. Todays offering is up at http://mizadventurez.blogspot.com

    April 5, 2011 at 3:46 pm

  16. Today’s effort is over here:

    And today is actually a two-poem day, because I already had one half-done when I saw this fabulous prompt. Thank you, Jeremy!

    April 5, 2011 at 4:28 pm

  17. Robin Elizabeth Sampson

    Here’s my little ditty.


    April 5, 2011 at 4:50 pm

  18. Jennifer Pratt-Walter

    there in the
    small vastless dawning
    Bowl of Spirit
    dwell many, so many
    of You,

    not soggy

    April 5, 2011 at 5:06 pm

  19. This is pretty much silly nostalgia, but I still kind of like it.


    April 5, 2011 at 6:13 pm

  20. Pingback: Day #5 — Palindrome Poem « Sensual Afflictions

  21. Another brain-freeze day, so here is something silly:

    He sighed, “You are so sweet,
    I could eat you up,”
    and moving the bowl
    of fava beans aside,
    he reached for a glass
    of chianti.

    April 5, 2011 at 6:54 pm

    • Mary Beth Frezon

      Oooh! Or maybe something more like Eeks!

      April 5, 2011 at 7:05 pm

  22. Screen door shattering
    Late night damp with confusion
    gotta have my pops

    April 5, 2011 at 7:55 pm

    • Ryan, what fun to be doing this with you this month!! I’m so loving your stuff.

      April 6, 2011 at 7:38 am

  23. Here is my offering for today:


    April 5, 2011 at 8:49 pm

  24. chloe

    “Amoebas are one cell organisms about one billion years old.
    Their insides is a jelly like fluid called cytoplasm. They reproduce by binary fission splitting in half and making two identical new amoebas. They eat algae, bacteria and particles of dead plants or animal matter.”

    In this particular case however, the binary fission was complete but they simply could not spit themselves. They are not identical.
    Uncle Herschel has a decisive nose and mustache while auntie Raisel has chin hairs but also long graceful eyelashes that curled up and were the object of Raisel’s desire.
    They are depicted in this drawing
    living a quiet life, and like good hosts have adapted to the foods available.

    We, at the Kellogg’s fruit loop foundation, wish them a long life, and as the couple of the week, we will send them a thousand boxes of the deliciously colorful cereal.

    Amoebas we salute you

    April 5, 2011 at 8:56 pm

  25. Parents in Gilroy
    Escaping to The Pinnacles
    An impromptu shake made out of real Oreo cookies
    Ketchup on vegetables
    And cereal

    7 min 9 sec

    April 5, 2011 at 10:21 pm

  26. Here’s mine for day 5:



    Moments lead to minutes
    minutes morph to hours,
    hours to days,
    and so on.
    Time evaporates
    or bends into fractals.
    Time’s so elusive

    People say time speeds up,
    the older you get,
    across cultures
    it’s the same experience
    Focus gone awry
    I lift my head suddenly
    turn away from the screen
    time to leave work.

    I was in the wormhole
    came out the other side
    of the Internet
    back out of my screen
    back to my desk
    and walk to my car.

    Later on I disappear
    into the sleeping wormhole
    away from consciousness
    deep into dreamland
    subterranean reality
    the Grand Canyon

    Might be on the other side
    of the world
    in Tokyo
    or Beijing
    possibly Jakarta
    floating through that space
    nocturnal wanderings, adventures
    until the alarm beeps,
    mind snaps awake
    sleep wormhole closes

    I let the dog out
    get dressed
    get the kids ready
    pour some coffee
    drop the kids off
    drive some miles
    back to my screen,
    peering into
    my Internet wormhole.

    April 5, 2011

    April 6, 2011 at 2:49 am

  27. Kosuke Miyata

    I’m late again (it’s 15 mins past ten in Tokyo now). Here’s what I made for day 5:

    Wake Up, Dude

    Come on, take a look at yourself. You dead or
    doomed to die tomorrow or something? Smile, man,
    show those kids outside your triumphant nose hair
    “blocking the bad air

    particles” and stuff. In the news they say some
    people called en-coffin-ers’re putting make-up
    on tsunami victims. You got no money,
    RIGHT, but you’re funny

    (every now and then) and to make a grieving
    person laugh is such an important job. Drop
    that heroic face, and begin to free your
    man in the mirror.

    April 6, 2011 at 3:19 am

  28. Scott

    Across a bowl of Crunchberries

    my love did sadly say

    “I think they’ve sacked the Cap’n

    Alas, Alack, Dismay!”

    “The Cap’n sacked! You jest” I shout

    “This surely must not be,

    breakfast will be insufferable without our Cap’n C”

    April 6, 2011 at 8:24 pm

    • That’s great!

      April 7, 2011 at 1:08 pm

  29. Pingback: Day #7 — Like Cereal & Milk « Sensual Afflictions

  30. Well, I thought I’d channel Rik…The People’s Poet!

    Cereal Killer

    You could not more be real
    Crouching, huddling
    The world is your bowl
    And the bowl now your world
    From your prismatic sanctuary
    You were hurled
    Oh, cereal…cereal
    Your feelings immaterial
    Surreal as only cereal can be
    Your heart like wheat, your skin like candy
    Your cage hemispherical
    Your rage empirical
    And imperial
    Oh, cereal
    Has the Stockholm syndrome
    Turned your hessian of rage
    To compassionate silk?
    Or was that just the milk?
    Did you really think me so easy?
    Food like you leaves
    A bad taste in my mouth
    Alas…I’ve said too much
    And I must be sure
    That you do not tell a soul
    Do not even tell your bowl
    For you can never know
    Whom the bowl tells

    April 11, 2011 at 6:55 am

  31. Greg Cameron

    (I’m following the prompt of ‘no adjectives’ – I assume possessives don’t count. This is a quickie)


    she was the apple of my eye

    but I never got the chance

    to eat her

    – somewhere Adam and Eve

    are laughing….

    (Greg Cameron, Poem, November, 2011, Surrey, B.C., Canada – yes, all double-entendres intended….)

    November 29, 2011 at 12:17 pm