Welcome to our W3 Poetry Prompt, which goes live on Wednesdays at The Skeptic’s Kaddish.
You may click here for a fuller explanation of W3; but here’s the ‘tldr’ version:
The main ingredient of W3 is a weekly poem written by a Poet of the Week (PoW), which participants respond to in verse.
The second ingredient is a writing guideline (or two) provided by the PoW. Guidelines may include, but are not limited to: word counts, poetic forms, inclusion of specific words, and use of particular poetic devices.
After four days, when the prompt closes, the PoW shall select one participant’s poem as the W3 prompt for the following week, and its author becomes the next PoW.
Simple enough, right?
Okie dokie ~ Let’s do this thing!
I. The prompt poem:
‘Cold Feet’ by Sylvia Cognac
Waiting to feel safe with you You seem to be just right Right like all the other men Men who left me by day light I try to hide my insecurities Insecurities might spoil things Things that work out for almost everyone Everyone else wears wedding rings You’re adorable, but I’m silent Silent because I don’t know how to express Express that I want you, but I’m terrified Terrified I can’t live up to this white dress
II. Sylvia’s prompt guideline
- Write a poem that contains the word “water”.
III. Submit: Click on ‘Mr. Linky’ below
In order to participate and share a poem, open up this blog post, outside of the WordPress reader. At the bottom, just below these words, you will see a small rectangular graphic with the words ‘Mr Linky’. Click on that to submit.
Submissions are open for 4 days, until Sunday, August 7, 10:00 AM (GMT+3)
Last week’s W3 poem
This week’s W3 prompt poem (above), composed by Sylvia Cognac, was written in response to last week’s W3 prompt poem, which A. J. Wilson wrote:
‘Waiting for the dark’ by A. J. Wilson
the secret of loving you, is not to allow that invisible flame to burn too fiercely so only I can feel the heat, and the flicker of longed-for pain, you say I'm 'adorable', in a matter of fact way looking into the mirror, combing your hair your reflection knows the reality which is why we feel miles apart spinning intoxicated into oblivion tripping over cooling embers dancing into forgetfulness waiting for the dark