A poem-a-day for National Poetry Month

Prompt #12: Triad

Today’s prompt is from the mind of Gina Williams:

Write a poem incorporating last line of your favorite song, the main spice or ingredient in your favorite dish, and a geologic form (basalt, plateau, syncline).


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!

27 responses

  1. Awesome prompt, Gina. Hellishly difficult, but awesome 🙂

    April 12, 2011 at 12:42 am

  2. Pingback: Terminal moraine « Tony Linde

  3. I wasn’t sure I could do this but have come up with a poem meeting the prompt almost exactly (with one change to the song line).

    See http://wp.me/pbg4K-3R for my song, spice and geological feature and the poem that tries to fit them together. Hope it works.

    April 12, 2011 at 5:42 am

  4. Pingback: My Garden - Uma Gowrishankar :: When Every Drop Carries Memories Of You :: April :: 2011

  5. WOW Tony – that was truly incredible imagery.

    And yep – difficult prompt that’s for sure.

    April 12, 2011 at 6:30 am

    • Thank you, Angell. I wasn’t sure it’d come together until the end.

      April 12, 2011 at 7:51 am

  6. Beautiful prompt, there’s so much that one could bring to this. Here is my poem: http://umaathreya.blogsome.com/2011/04/12/when-every-drop-carries-memories-of-you/

    April 12, 2011 at 8:10 am

  7. Bill Noble

    I had a marvelous picture that was the prompt for this poem, but I can’t post it here, it seems. Maybe I’ll send it to Shanna and see if I can sweet talk her.


    No one confesses truth in a poem.
    Who’d welcome it all unadorned?
    Our art is to conceal every naked
    thought in rainbow veils of words.

    Catch our furtive, lascivious glances.
    Poems push into life as filthy urges:
    longing, fear, bloodied desire, hate.
    Witness how we scour them clean.

    April 12, 2011 at 10:18 am

  8. Robin Elizabeth Sampson

    I especially enjoyed the challenge of this prompt! Here’s my result and a little bit about how I got there.

    April 12, 2011 at 11:01 am

  9. Thanks so much for reminding me to savour the things I love, today, Gina! I needed that.


    April 12, 2011 at 12:55 pm

    • A lovely honest poem, Nikki. Thanks.

      April 12, 2011 at 1:03 pm

  10. Jennifer P-W

    Day 11, and I Fear No Poetry. (That could be a cool song or book title.)
    I wrote to the prompt. No one will know the song line “My heart goes with you,” because I wrote the song. It does have five syllables, so it had to be a haiku today.

    My heart goes with you
    through the cardamom hours
    and crystal skylines.

    Jennifer Pratt-Walter

    April 12, 2011 at 1:51 pm

  11. b_y

    Lots of fun. Thanks for the prompt.


    April 12, 2011 at 1:54 pm

  12. Wow! What wonderful poetry! Thanks for playing!


    Peace is what attempted to overcome
    her the first time the overpass railing
    began to melt beneath her leaning,
    A river of light beyond a crevasse
    of living, rushing beneath her booted
    feet. Rain splashed her cheeks and
    woke her briefly. Just in time. For
    a time. She shuddered. She went on.

    I do it for your love.

    A sprinkle of clove and cinnamon sugar
    on the baby’s rice, she knew without
    knowledge, sooths his gums. He gripped
    her hair and grimaced. Silence,
    for moment. He shivered. He went on.

    I do it for your love.

    Unhinged, unroped. Duped into a semblance
    of living. At dusk, with leaves falling, light
    on water swirling, the tumble and turn
    an alluring dream. The peace, the
    dreadful hypothermic peace. Life goes on.

    I do it for your love.

    April 12, 2011 at 5:45 pm

  13. Overwhelmed by the excellent prompt and time, I had to just log one and move on. I promised myself I would not frontload any poems this month, but that is what I just did, proving I still have authority issues, even if I’m the authority figure, and thus the title.


    In the elevator I heard my favorite song
    Except for the obo

    The exact blend is a secret, even to me
    I just mix shit together

    I have been accused on several occasions
    Of being a hydrothermal vent

    If the police ask, and they always ask twice
    I will tell them I was prompted

    April 12, 2011 at 6:08 pm

  14. Couldn’t quite tackle the prompt today, but I’ve got it saved for a later day.


    April 12, 2011 at 6:08 pm

  15. Promptless again! http://dorlamoorehouse.com/2011/04/12/napowrimo-day-12-3/

    April 12, 2011 at 7:58 pm

  16. Here you go, based on the prompt:



    April 12, 2011 at 8:57 pm

  17. Sorry nobody’s prompt for me today. Some twittered/blogged haiku though!

    Haiku from today:

    Oh wee small black cat
    all tooths and claws and goofiness
    sit not on MY mouse.

    oh kitty soft purr
    blow gently behind the ears
    turn up the volume.

    Imagine surprise
    I reach for some black fabric
    The bolt is empty.

    I’m pushing, trying to get a show entry done, photographed and submitted.

    Entry asks for words:
    Seventy-five to describe;
    Twenty-five of bio…

    I like to use very very short “artist statements” and the last few have been haiku or very short poems. The bio is a bit of a problem LOL.

    Statement for this quilt, Primordial:

    Count each day’s passing
    Throw your thoughts into a pool
    Keep still and keep watch.

    For my previous quilt, Solveig:

    I felt the flush of my old love
    the fabric squares in my hand
    the rush as yellow returns
    the slam of blue.

    April 12, 2011 at 9:56 pm

  18. This would be a poem about the futility of communication
    Walking along the sides of the Cascades, mostly in silence
    A young, rebellious pine shooting upwards alone amid a lake of obsidian shards gloss black and deep
    And then back to the cinnamon cinder, the pepper granite and nutmeg pumice
    The spices of our lives never really leave us
    Although this was going to be a poem about something or other
    But, you don’t want to study memories too long indoors
    You’ll go crazy – come out with me

    April 12, 2011 at 10:47 pm

  19. Well, that was a great prompt as far as challenges go. I need more melliflous likes. I must admit I was amused to see Tony picked the same geographical feature as I did.

    “Smoked paprika”, “Cause I’m in a New York State of mind”, “moraine”.


    April 12, 2011 at 10:50 pm

  20. Pingback: Poem # 12 – Captive Audience « Black Satin

  21. Definitely a challenge – here’s my contribution:

    April 13, 2011 at 6:12 pm

  22. Kam

    met did we
    under the tummeric tree
    Vesuvius objected
    nuée ardente reflected
    oh oh,
    the landslide will bring it down

    April 13, 2011 at 7:50 pm

  23. Here’s my offering for this day – once again, no prompt. I’m trying to work through some stuff…

    I can see it in her eyes
    She’s given up
    Lost and alone
    With no one left to love her
    No one left to hold her

    I can see it in her heart
    She’s lost all faith
    Doesn’t believe in anything
    Or anyone

    I can see it in her soul
    She’s lost herself
    Life has no meaning
    It holds no joy
    It’s just meaningless

    Wondering what can save her
    Wondering if anything can
    I sigh,
    And turn from the mirror

    April 14, 2011 at 7:26 am

  24. AGH! Finally done!


    April 15, 2011 at 4:24 am