A poem-a-day for National Poetry Month

Prompt #22: Recycle, Reuse, Rewrite

Today’s prompt is brought to you by Shanna Germain and Earth Day:

Today is Earth Day! Explore our complicated relationship to Mama Earth by recycling. Find an old poem or two that you’ve abandoned and find a line, a title or a concept that really grabs you. Now use those to start a new poem, going in a direction entirely different than the original.



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!

20 responses

  1. dorlamoorehouse

    Woooo! First poet here!!!

    Though instead of doing something Earth-Day-ish, I wrote about gluttony. 😛


    April 22, 2011 at 6:41 am

  2. Bill Noble


    Far too tired late last night,
    the naked pair of us,
    awake too late this morning,
    but harried or not,
    perched on the edge of the bed,
    you pull me into an embrace,
    nuzzle my chest. I rub your back
    all the way down to your tailbone
    and kiss the top of your head.
    When I swell and sigh,
    you cup me like a pair of plums.
    Your hair smells of chamomile.
    I breathe into your ear
    7:35. 7:36. 7:37.
    That’s all. That’s enough.

    April 22, 2011 at 6:54 am

    • Bill – absolutely beautiful.

      April 22, 2011 at 10:50 am

  3. Pingback: Iphis and Ianthe « Tony Linde

  4. Mine, following the prompt, is a rewrite of my older rewrite of the ending of Ovid’s tale of Iphis and Ianthe: http://wp.me/pbg4K-4U.

    April 22, 2011 at 12:35 pm

  5. Jennifer P-W.

    This started out as a short piece, but rolled out into this odd unrhymed sonnet.

    To A Fish
    Sonnet 50

    It was at the store where I met you,
    tightly clad in plastic on your tray.
    Wide-eyed but silent, so unnatural
    as any funeral bed could ever be.
    After guts were stripped, they left you whole,
    and I admired your streamlined fishy shape.
    Iridescent blooms shone off your scales,
    jet and amber eyes gone dull with death.
    Unwilling surgeon, I gingerly sliced your head
    from off its body, mouth held all agape.
    I marveled at your gills’ red-feathered sweep
    and primal brain clad in bone’s embrace.

    Oh fish, I did not bid your life be stolen;
    it was of no less value than my own.

    J. Pratt-Walter

    April 22, 2011 at 1:05 pm

    • Love this

      April 22, 2011 at 9:26 pm

  6. Not entirely recycled, but related: http://lovesgoodfood.com/jason/posts/Day_22_2011/

    “It’s complicated”, but not in the dimension that implies.

    April 22, 2011 at 3:05 pm

    • Jennifer P-W

      Wow, two odd non-standard
      sonnets in a row!

      April 22, 2011 at 4:36 pm

      • It’s complicated applies in both space and time. Thank you for your perseverance, despite my own lacking.

        April 22, 2011 at 4:59 pm

  7. Pingback: Day #22 – Spiders « A Knit Wit Scribbles

  8. I recycled one my brother’s songs.


    April 22, 2011 at 3:57 pm

  9. Pingback: Poem #22 – Discovery « Black Satin

  10. Pingback: National Poetry Month Day #22

  11. http://www.artsroundup.com/wp/?p=3014


    The Biggest Full Moon

    I stepped out to see the moon
    on my way to bed.
    I knew I couldn’t stay.
    Even without the wind
    it was four above.
    But the yard was white
    and striped in that
    The birch gleamed.
    The snow squeaked as I
    closed the door and
    crossed the porch.
    Through the dark branches
    the moon, big and shining,
    high in the mottled navy sky
    and above it
    the looming orange of mars.
    My breath hung
    closer to the ground
    but my heart flew with the moon.

    Mary Beth Frezon January 2009

    April 22, 2011 at 8:38 pm

  12. I’ve got nothing but Beastie Boys lyrics
    And they’re not mine
    But Sunday brings rabbit stew
    Bacon, wine, shallots, rosemary and thyme
    And Irish hookers

    April 22, 2011 at 9:26 pm

  13. Reworked from a ten-year old poem. When I wasn’t cringing at the original, I was enjoying the act of re-creation.


    April 23, 2011 at 1:33 am

  14. Nikki in a hurry

    Damn, I missed a day! I did recall an old poem in honour of the prompt, but wasn’t near a computer to upload it last night. Anyway, here it is:

    I’m watching you learn
    To walk on your own. Blossom
    Falls like summer snow

    Off to try and catch up today. Some gorgeous poems up here.

    April 23, 2011 at 6:00 am

  15. Whew. Getting caught up.


    April 23, 2011 at 6:45 pm